the night before murder

If I’m murdered

I want to share this in English because I think this is very relevant to every women out there.

On May 3rd, the body of Lesvy Berlin Rivera Osorio was found inside one of UNAM’s campus on Mexico city. She was left propped on a phone booth, strangled with the cord of the public phone around her neck. She was 22 years old.

The PGJ (not sure how to translate but it’s something like the General Court of Justice prosecutor) recently released a statement that was brought up based on several interviews with people that were close to Lesvy, including her boyfriend.

They were very good at mentioning that Lesvy had not been attending classes as she had dropped out of school recently.

They were very good at mentioning that she drank.

They were very good at mentioning that she lived with her boyfriend outside of marriage.

They were very good at mentioning that the night she was murdered she had been out with friends probably either drinking or doing drugs.

They were very good at mentioning that she dared to be outside, alone, at night.

They were very good at pinning the blame of a murder case on the victim herself, but they were no closer to finding the actual perpetrator. (You know, the person who ACTUALLY STRANGLED HER WITH A PHONE CORD?)

They used the phrase “found dead” instead of calling it what it really was: MURDER.

They made no mention whatsoever of her boyfriend being a suspect, despite the fact that he was the last person to see her alive, that they had attended the same party that night, and that they had a fight right before her murder after which (according to him) they parted ways angrily.

I’m not saying he is guilty, but perhaps if she had been a “good girl, grade A student” she would deserve justice and a proper investigation of her death instead of the PGJ violating the confidentiality of a still ongoing investigation by releasing these personal facts Lesvy in the media, as if that justified her murder?

I am tired of this and I’ve been holding back tears all day.

WE ARE BEING MURDERED, AND THE BLAME IS PUT ON US.

Violence against women happens everywhere, not just in distant places. Lesvy was killed in the middle of a college campus.

If you were killed, what facts about your imperfect life do you think they would bring up on the statements, on the news media?

This is how the hashtag #SiMeMatan (If I’m murdered) began. Because it seems to be always our fault, for being at the wrong place, with the wrong clothes, or at the wrong time (things not fit for “proper ladies”) and never the fault of the person perpetrating the crime.

Back when I saw Kelly Oxford’s hashtag about sharing our stories of harassment I remembered a similar movement that was made in Latin America a bit earlier called #MiPrimerAcoso (my first harassment) I realized that we face the same struggles, regardless of what language we speak.

This is why I’m writing this now, because I think you should know about Lesvy’s story and we should all be heard.

So here goes mine:

If I’m murdered:

It would be because I lived by myself in my apartment.
It would be because I confront people that catcall me on the street.
It would be because I like wearing knee high boots and stockings.
It would be because I dyed my hair a lot in whacky colors.
It would be because I hang out more with men than women.
It would be because I go out alone at night without the company of a man.
It would be because I drink when I go out.
It would be because I was flirty and friendly to everyone.
It would be because choose to have sex without being married.

You know what the worst part is about this?

That every woman who is tweeting this hashtag is very well aware that they could be next, and that the official responses might not be too different from Lesvy’s case.

Heck, even women that have marched in outrage at UNAM and women that have tweeted disgust at what happened have started receiving threats online.

Please stay together, and stay strong.

Emily is the only one who jumped to Ali being alive when she went to see her!!

Ali became a better person because of Emily!!

Emily thought she had died and gone to heaven when she saw Ali again!!

Ali called Emily the night before her murder trial and nobody else!!

Emily stayed loyal the longest when Ali was being framed for murder!!

Ali risked her life and tricked the PD to save Emily from the Dollhouse!!

Emily hated betraying Ali even when she thought she killed someone!!

Ali stayed in Rosewood for Emily!!

Emily fought the hardest to get Ali out of Welby!!

Ali fantasised about a future with Emily in France when she was 14!!

Emily stayed awake all night long to make sure Ali was okay!!

Ali’s husband knew that pushing Emily away made Ali weak!!

Emily defended Ali against everyone!!

Ali hallucinated that her and Emily were going away together when she was being tortued!!!!!!

StOP ASKING ME WHY I SHIP EMISON

ALL THE CLUES THAT CONNECT MELISSA TU CHARLOTTE AND PROVE THAT MELISSA HASTINGS IS A.D. CHECK THIS OUT. IT’S A LOT OF WORK FOR ME, BUT IT WORTH IT.IT WAS A GREAT JOB FOR ME TO DOING THIS, BUT IS WORTH IT. I’M AN ITALIAN GUY, SORRY FOR A LITTLE BITE ERROR IN ENGLISH.

• On the night of September 1, 2009 (night of Ali’s ”death”), Melissa enters furiously in Alison’s room and screams “Where is she?” But we have not found out who she was looking for, and she never revealed it. We see that scene in # 2x21.

• In # 3x04, Melissa reveals that MonA threatened her by telling her that if she didn’t go to masquerade ball to distract Jenna with some excuses, she would tell everyone that she pretend to be pregnant, so Melissa went to the masquerade ball under blackmail. When Melissa comes to the ball, however, she comes quietly and glances at Jenna, who looks at her. Jenna was pretending to be blind at that time, but Melissa glances at her.

• In # 4x04, Melissa reveals to Spencer that she climbed to the Halloween train because Wilden threatened her, and she didn’t’ know that he wanted to hurt Spencer and Aria, and she did not agree. But, in # 4x01, Mona show up with a video of Wilden and Melissa on the train, and Wilden begs Melissa to let Aria go, as if Melissa was in charge that night.

• In # 4x01 we understand that Wilden killed Garrett as he was about to reveal to Spencer ALL of his corrupt actions. The Marion’s murder to protect Charles, and the aggression against Ali to protect Charlotte, all under Jessica DiLaurentis’s money. Wilden says to Melissa “The plan has changed! Garrett is about to tell them everything! We can not let this happen!”, This means that Melissa also knew ALL about Wilden, and the existence of Charles = Charlotte.

• In # 3x16 we see a flashback of the night when Ali disappeared, and Melissa coming out of DiLaurentis home (while Ian, Garrett and Jenna were looking for NAT Club videos inside the house), and she told to the phone: “I have to call 911 To have your attention?” And the 911 was also the police, who was looking for Bethany and CHARLOTTE that night because they’re both escape from Radley.

• In # 3x19 we see a flashback of the night when Ali disappeared, and we see Jason saw Melissa and a blonde girl talking in DiLaurentis’s blackyard. Jason confuse the blonde for Ali, but when she look at him, we see Charlotte. From Charlotte’s # 6x10 stories, we know that she did not meet Melissa that night, and no one knew she was in Rosewood. But, when Emily in # 3x20 tells her “Jason says she saw you in is blackyard that night.” she does NOT mention Melissa, and despise this, Charlotte tells she met Melissa that night, but they talked about NAT Club movies.

• Charlotte in # 3x20 reveals that the photo of her, Wilden and Alison in Cape May was taking by Melissa Hastings. This means that Melissa and Charlotte knew each other (since Charlotte had already confirmed the meeting on September 1, 2009).

• In #3x23, Wren reveals that Cece was expelled from the university because of Alison’s lies, and decided to go find Mona at Radley for help her to recover from the bullying caused by Alison. It was all a lie. However, Wren reveals that was Melissa to tell Charlotte about Mona’s check in Radley.

• In # 3x24, Charlotte plans the meeting to the Lodge of Thornhill, to see if Ali could get out of, because she suspected that she was still alive. In # 4x04, Melissa too reveals that she had the suspect that Ali was stills alive, and sent Jenna and Shana to control the situation at Thornhill When Spencer asks Melissa “Why do you think Ali can be still alive?” Melissa doesn’t say a word. Also, Melissa tell to Jenna and Shana “Those bitches will be at the lodge at 9!”. This means that Melissa knew Charlotte’s plan, designed with Mona.

• In # 4x01 we find that Jenna and Shana were both afraid of Melissa Hastings and because of that they decided to work for her. In # 4x09, Shana reveals that Jenna was also afraid of another person: Cece Drake.

• In # 4x24, Charlotte reveals to the police station to know who killed Bethany.Melissa however confessed that she had killed Bethany ONLY in # 5x11 when she decided to making a video confession for Spencer. Also, when Melissa buried Bethany alive, Charlotte had already been brought back to Radley by detective Wilden. Charlotte knew that Melissa had killed Bethany, probably because Melissa tell her all.

• In # 4x24, Melissa comes home, to the Hastings, saying she has just come back from London right in that moment and in the police station shew says that she’s back because Toby came to her door telling her that Spencer needed her family. In # 5x02, Toby reveals that he never found Melissa, but Wren, who revealed that Melissa had already been away for several days. Also she pretend to be back from London in # 4x24, and it was the night when Jessica DiLaurentis was killed.

• In # 5x01 we find that there was an army created to destroy Alison. We see Melissa Hastings at the meeting and seems to be in charge of this ‘army’ because she says: “We do not have much time.”

• In # 5x08, Spencer and Emily find the Melissa’s hat for riding horse in the same horse riding where Jessica brought Bethany Young in the past. At the end of the episode, we see Charlotte break into Spencer’s room, and caresses Melissa’s hat.

• In # 5x10, Spencer finds out that 'A’, Charlotte, had stolen the recorder where Ali told the story of his fake  kidnapping in case the police asked questions. Spencer had hidden him in a safe place in his house, who did not want to reveal evewn to the liars. But Charlotte knew the hiding place. And at that time, Melissa lived at Hastings’s house. Also, in the same episode, Charlotte calls Spencer and takes her off to listen Ali’s recording of the fake kidnapping to make it known that she has stolen the recording. It was Melissa to switch ON the phone at Spencer to answer.

• In # 5x10, Spencer and Aria discover in a Hastings’backyard a  security footage where Melissa meets a man VERY much a like to Cyrus Petrillo, the fake Ali kidnapping, and tells him, “Do it, trust me, do it!” All a few nights before the Mona’s fake murder. And on that occasion, Cyrus allied with the 'A’ team to wrap Ali and take her out of town so she does not have an alibi for the moment when Mona would have been “killed.” And we find this in # 5x20.

• In # 5x21, Spencer arrives in London as she  has a university interview, but does not find his sister in the house, but only her roommate who tells her that she and Wren were invited in the countryside, but Melissa did not warn Spencer. Then, Spencer finds Mona’s blood in a test tube, in her bag, and the university interview is ruined, and after that, she gets a message from Charlotte: “Calm down, but beware of what you do. There’s still so much blood. ”… Charlotte was in Rosewood, so there was someone in London to chasing e spying on  Spencer.

• After Charlotte’s capture in the next five years, we see A Melissa and Hanna’s flashback in London, in #6x17, and Melissa reveals to Hanna that Charlotte will reveal to Wren that she killed Bethany Young. This confirms that Charlotte knew that thanks to Melissa because she already knew in # 4x24, Melissa recorded the confession in # 5x11, and that night Charlotte had already been brought back to Radley at the time of the fateful act.

• Melissa pretend to returns from London, in the episodes of 5 years later, TWO EPISODES AFTER Charlotte’s death, precisely in # 6x13 to help her mother with Senate elections. But Melissa returned to Rosewood a few weeks BEFORE Charlotte’s death, and remained in the shadows. Claeb find out that in #6x17. And don’t forget, in #7x01 , we find out that ALSO Mary Drake returned to Rosewood a few weeks BEFORE Charlotte’s death, and she stills in the shadows too, like Melissa.

• In # 6x13, Melissa breaks into the Hastings’burn and whe sees Caleb in there, she stops in a blink and says, “Oh, I forgot you were here” and she goes looking for clothes and exclaims: “I thought I had more clothes here. At the end of that episode, A.D. throw away the old black 'A'’s sweatshirts and search online "NEW UNIFORMS.”

WHAT YOU GUS THINK ABOUT THAT CLOSE? FOR ME IS VERY CLEARLY THAT CHARLOTTE AND MELISSA WAS REALLY CLOSE IN THE PAST. DON’T YOU THINK?

anonymous asked:

Hi! Do you have like, a list of headcaons for widow somewhere? Your take on her is super interesting and i wanna know more!!!

because lots of people are asking where I ‘align’ myself Widowmaker-wise, here’s a handy list that will also help interpret my art. Most of these are headcanons! It’s okay if you disagree with them! Anyway, here’s the sections included under the READMORE:

WIDOWMAKER AND AMELIE
PRE-TALON
THE LACROIX TRAGEDY (The Gerard and Amelie dynamic)
WIDOWMAKER AND SOMBRA DYNAMIC
WIDOWMAKER AND MERCY DYNAMIC
WIDOWMAKER AND REAPER DYNAMIC
WIDOWMAKER (HEALTH)

It’s long!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How about a "7 Minutes in Heaven" prompt in a high school/college AU? >:3c I feel like having the boys play spin the bottle at a party would be hilarious! Imagine how mortified Killua would be when Gon is the person who is matched to be shoved in the closet with him?

It would be hysterical XDDDD I cracked up when I read this request. Okay lets do this!

We’re going to do a college au bc that’s so much more fun :3 I hope you it, thank you for waiting so long for me to get this out!

(Part two can be read here)


Killua had a bad feeling about this game before his so called ‘friends’ even explained the rules. And then, after they did explain the rules, he immediately wished he had left the party within the first ten minutes like he’d originally planned.

But then Killua looked up to meet brown-gold that glittered brightly with curiosity and interest, and he knew he had to stay.

Killua hadn’t spent time with Gon in a very, very long time, despite the undeniable fact that they were each other’s best friends. That was the problem with college- the second one class assigned work, the rest followed suit until Killua found himself awake at three in the morning trying not to pull his hair out in frustration. This was actually the first time he’d been able to see Gon in nearly two weeks.

So. He had to stay. For Gon.

But that moment of weakness turned out to be the biggest mistake of Killua’s entire life. Because with Killua’s shitty luck, it was only natural that the stupid coke bottle would land on him, then Gon.

Of freakin’ course.

“Ooooooo, Seven Minutes in Heaven for Gon and Killua!” Palm cooed and Killua grounded his teeth together hard enough for his jaw to ache. “Get going, you two!”

Gon’s brow was furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it. What’s-”

“Shut up!” Killua forcefully pulled Gon off the floor and away from their circle of friends that whistled and clapped at their retreating backs. He was going to murder these people before the night was over for doing this to him. With Gon of all people. Damnit!

“But, Killua! I’ve never heard of Seven Minutes in Heaven before, I don’t know what we have to-”

“I said,” Killua hissed as he yanked Palm’s closet door open. “Shut up! Just- get  in the closet!”

Gon took one look at Killua’s face and visibly paled. He ducked into the closet without another word and Killua followed, slamming the door shut behind them.

It wasn’t a big closet which, admittedly, was the whole point of this insane game. Killua barely had enough room for his shoulders to fit and couldn’t see a single thing in the dark. But he could definitely hear the sound of Gon’s breathing less than a feet away from him and Killua knew without a doubt that if he tried to move his arm, they would touch.

Killua was not going to do that though, because he would sooner die or melt into a puddle than try to make a move on his best friend who just also happened to be his crush for the past three years. He almost wished he could melt into a puddle because then maybe he could slide out under the door crack and bolt-

“Killua?” Gon’s voice was very quiet but it filled the entire space.

“What.”

“Um. What are we supposed to do in here?”

Warmth exploded across Killua’s cheeks. He didn’t need to see his face to know it had to be growing redder than a stop sign.

“N-Nothing,” he said and immediately cursed himself for stuttering.

“It didn’t sound like nothing, though.”

“Well, you heard wrong, then.”

“Killua.”

Gon was pouting, he knew. And Killua could never resist Gon’s ridiculous pout even in the pitch black of a closet.

“Its….” God, what Killua would give to not be explaining this right now. “Its a game in which two people have to stay in a closet for seven minutes.”

“Like we are now.”

“Yeah.”

“But, what else? There has to be something else.”

Killua’s hands curled into claws. “I can’t believe you don’t know this. Remind me when we get out of here to sit your ass down and explain every single party game to ever exist-”

“Killua, you’re stalling!” Gon whined. There was a shuffling sound and Killua was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that Gon had just moved even closer than they already were. “Just tell me what it is!”

His heartbeat was very loud and heavy in his chest. He could feel every thud all the way down to his toes. Somewhere in the mess of his spinning thoughts, Killua distantly wondered if Gon could hear it, too.

“Killua…”

Killua jerked at the hot hand that brushed against his. How Gon knew where his hand was, he didn’t know. He didn’t get why Gon was lacing their fingers together, either, but his mind too jumbled at the moment to protest.

He took a shuddering breath to calm his racing heart. 

It didn’t help.

“While you’re in the closet, y-you’re supposed to. Um.”

Gon’s whisper washed over Killua’s burning skin. “You’re supposed to- what?” 

Killua shrunk back into the closet’s wall. Gon was way too close. He was cornering Killua, leaving no room to escape. 

Killua wasn’t sure if he could escape even if he wanted to, at this point; Gon was all around him, his scent his voice his body. Killua’s senses were being overwhelmed with Gon. He was drowning in it.

“I, I don’t-” Killua said weakly as his knees started to buckle.

“Killua,” Gon said again, voice shaking slightly with something that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. His free hand slid around Killua’s waist, helping him to stand but also pressing their bodies together, and Killua just barely held back a shiver at the possessive touch. “Are you sure you know what this game is about?”

Killua squeezed his eyes shut. If he wasn’t so dizzy right now, he would’ve shrieked in frustration.

“You’re a fucking bastard,” he finally whispered and Gon’s laughter reverberated around them like bells.

“I know,” Gon said, a grin in the lilt of his voice, and kissed Killua on the mouth.

(part two)

My Artistic Vision

Submitted by: http://thefeelofcacoethes.tumblr.com/

Length: Short

One of my favourite things to do is create public street art pieces. I work by the cover of darkness, never leaving my art in the same place twice. Sadly, my work is short lived, but I love the creativity, the reactions of the public, and especially the creation process!

When creating public art pieces the most important detail is the pop. The attention grabber, the head turner, the hook that drags people in with cameras and gaping mouths. Tonight I was working with a darker base than usual, to make sure my colors explode! Here’s a tip from a pro: A darker base with tones of orange, red, and yellow will look spectacular! But before the paint comes a few cosmetic details.

First, I drill a few holes into the base, and insert wooden dowels I’ve covered in glow paint and glitter. Not the most professional of mediums, but the end product will still be stunning. Next, I make a few cuts in the base, and insert colored pieces of glass I got cheap from a glass blowing studio. Bargains are an artist’s best friend, after all! After that, I string rows of fairy lights across the dowels, and into the cuts, to give a glowing, whimsical feeling. Next is my absolute favourite part: The painting!

I start out with a bright neon orange, drawing tongues fire and rivers of marigolds. Next comes a light yellow, warm sand and gold jewelry. Blood red is final, fiery and bright, with mountains of magma and fire truck feathers. Red is the easiest of colors, since I can make it from the leftover pieces of my previous art. Waste not want not, am I right?

I stand back, and survey my work. The piece glows in the rising sun, reflecting the lava-like colors of the sky. I’m so proud of this piece, it’s one of my best so far. But now I must go, so my art will remain an anonymous beauty for the public to gawk at. Perhaps I will see it in a newspaper! I don’t want to brag, but my work is featured in papers a lot . Some even in the front page! Though, I do wish the media would stop calling my work “desecrated corpses” and “gruesome murders committed over night”. 

Before I leave, I lean down and rip off the tape I placed over my base’s mouth. His teeth are colored bright pink, courtesy of yours truly. I thought it would be it nice touch. Too bad I had to put the tape on, because the pink is smudged a bit from his attempts to scream. Oh well! He stopped screaming now, and my artistic vision still survives. 

I turn to leave, but a whimper stops me. A young woman stands across the street from me, her hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Good thing I decided to pack more paint today.

It’s so hard, being an anonymous street artist. No one seems to understand my vision.

Credits to: http://thefeelofcacoethes.tumblr.com/

At some point during 1997, 23 year old Brett Hartman met 46 year old Winda Snipes at a bar in Akron, Ohio. Both feeling attracted to each other, they returned that evening to Winda’s apartment and spent the night together. After this occasion, they continued an arrangement which involved meeting up and having sex. On the morning of 9th September this same year, following another intimate evening together, 911 received a series of anonymous phone calls encouraging them to visit her address. When officers arrived at Winda’s apartment, the scene they discovered was a bloodbath. Her lifeless body was found tied to the bed. She had been relentlessly stabbed a total of 138 times, her throat had been cut and her hands removed.

While the authorities were first investigating Winda’s property, Brett Hartman had been hiding behind a tree across the street and watching the scene unfold. He had made the phone calls to the police and later gave an untruthful version of events. Of his own accord, Hartman had approached a responding officer and informed him that investigators were going to find traces of his semen inside Winda and his DNA on other parts of the crime scene as he’d had sex with her during the early hours of that morning. He went on to explain that he had left the apartment, and when he came back she had been brutally murdered and so he fled the scene in a panic. However, he was not hesitant to add that Winda was a “big whore” and that she had “got what she deserved”. These statements spoken by Hartman, along with the information given by a witness who saw the couple arguing through Winda’s bedroom window just the night before, led to Hartman being arrested on suspicion of committing the murder. 

On 14th April 1998, Brett Hartman was found guilty and sentenced to die by lethal injection, although his family and supporters strongly maintained his innocence. Hartman requested a last meal of steak with sauteed mushrooms, fried shrimp, a baked potato, macaroni cheese, vanilla ice cream and honeycomb cereal with milk prior to his death. He was executed in November 2012, stating “I’m good, let’s roll!” as his final words. Although Winda was laid to rest by her family and friends, her hands were never found.

3

You woke to the sound of running water, knowing Jughead was probably going to use all the hot water but luckily you’d showered the night before. Your new apartment wasn’t much but it was home. Juggie’s murder theories littered the table in the living room when you passed it to go make a fresh pot of coffee for the both of you. 

He came out moments later, a bright smile shining on his face. “Have a nice shower?” You laughed. He ignored you, coming over to wrap himself around you, covering you in water. “Really? I just changed.” You wiggled out of his grasp.

“Sorry, this is, uh, this is just great. I just wanted to say thank you. I’d probably still be on Archie’s floor if it wasn’t for you.” You nodded, knowing what sort of living situations he’d been in before you finally convinced him to get a place with you. 

“You’re gonna be late. Get dressed, I’ll drive you.” He hurried out of the room, grabbing a few papers off the table and a mug of fresh brew on his way back to his room.

In May of 1968, the body of 14-year-old Margaret Lynn “Peggy” Reber was found at the Maple Leaf Apartments in Lebanon, Pennsylvania where she lived with her Mother, Mary. Mary had come home at 3am from a weekend trip to find someone wrapped in a blanket, and sleeping on the floor of the apartment. Believing it was a drunk friend, she went to a neighbor to ask for help in moving them out of the middle of the floor. But, when she took off the blanket, she found the body of her daughter, Peggy. She had been sexually assaulted, severely beaten, strangled, and impaled with an archer’s bow. The tip of the bow was still protruding from her chest. She had bite marks all over her body, and one nipple had been chewed off. 

There were over 84 suspects in the murder. Peggy was left home alone all weekend while her Mother was out of town, and multiple people had keys to the apartment, which made the suspect list continue to grow. The apartments where she lived were known to house “unsavory” residents, and were called the “House of Broken Hearts” because of the people who inhabited them. Peggy’s boyfriend, 19-year-old Ray Boyer, had a key to the apartment, and his bow was the one Peggy was impaled with. It was soon discovered that Ray was in jail the night Peggy was murdered. But, it was later found that bite mark impressions taken from Ray did match up to some of the bites on Peggy’s body- all of them matched, in fact, except the one on her breast. He explained this away by saying he had bit her during sex the night before her murder. 

Another man named Arthur McKinley Root was soon arrested for the murder after it was discovered that his pubic hairs were on the blanket covering Peggy. He also had a key to the apartment. Clothing fibers, similar to those Root had in his possession, were found under Peggy’s fingernails, while fiber’s that matched the blanket were found under his nails. He eventually was charged with the crime, and went through a ten day trial. It was revealed that there were pubic hairs from multiple men on the blanket covering Peggy, not just Root’s, and that the teeth impressions taken from Root didn’t match any on Peggy’s body. The jury acquitted him of all charges. 

Many people are suspicious of Richard Boyer Sr, the father of Peggy’s boyfriend Ray. He lived next door to Peggy. His other son Richard Jr lived with him, as did Peggy’s twin sister, 14-year-old Kathy. Kathy had just given birth to a child, and her and Richard Jr had moved out of Richard Sr’s apartment the day before Peggy’s murder. Richard Jr and Kathy also had keys to the apartment, meaning Richard Sr had access to the property, as well. But, Richard Sr was at work the night of the murder- he had his time card punched, and co-workers reported that they saw him there. Peggy’s murder remains unsolved. 

Prompto opens his mouth but can think of nothing to say. Noctis continues to stare at him, sleepy, rumpled, and visibly annoyed (as annoyed as Noctis ever got anyway) before flopping back down with a sigh. Noctis closes his eyes for a second then blinks them open and frowns at the ceiling.

“You okay? You got a little…wild last night.”

Prompto lets out a strangled noise and closed his eyes tightly. Was Noct being serious right now? A little wild did not cover things like giving blow jobs under the table just to prove he would. At least he was pretty sure it didn’t cover things like that. The degree of understatement was staggering.

“Prom?”

“How am I going to be able to face Gladio after this? Or Ignis? Or anyone who was in that club?” He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes until he was seeing stars. “This is…I think I’m going to become a hermit. Or throw myself off a balcony, but only after I apologize to Ignis because he shouldn’t have had to see that. But not to you because you’re the worst friend ever, why would you let me do that?”

“…take off your shirt?” Noctis asks slowly. Prompto’s hands drop to his lap and his eyes widen. “You’re kinda pale, I guess, and it was funny but it’s not that bad.”

Prompto’s mouth fell open. His shirt? …Noctis didn’t remember either? Really? How could he not remember, he’d taken pictures. Then again Prompto had, it seemed, decided to suck dick in public and couldn’t remember it so who was he to point fingers? But this was good. If Noctis didn’t remember maybe Gladio wouldn’t either? And they could just pretend nothing had happened!

No, that wasn’t right. He needs to-

“If you wanted me to get rid of the pictures you could just say so.” Noct continues, levering himself off the couch and going for his phone. Prompto stopped breathing. Oh fuck.

“Noct, wait, I-”

The phone was already in the prince’s hand. Noct’s fingers flew over the surface. “It’s not…what the hell am I doing?” His brows knit together and, as Prompto watches in dawning horror, his thumb drags over the phone screen.

Noctis blinks then swiped again. Blinks slowly, swipes back and forth, and finally looks up at Prompto. And grins.

“You sucked Gladio off!”

Prompto whimpered, partially because Noct’s shout felt like an ice pick to the brain and partially because fuck his entire life.

Noctis collapses back into the couch, laughing. Prompto presses his hands over his eyes again.

Damnit. He was never drinking again.

An hour, and a shower and some toast, later found Prompto in what was probably the last place he wanted to be: outside of Gladio’s door waiting for the older man to let him in. Prompto knows that getting this over with is the right thing to do. He can’t quite remember doing it but it’s pretty obvious he had acted horribly the night before and he needed to apologize for it.

Noctis had responded to that with a dubious “Apologize? I’m don’t think Gladio minded.” And maybe he hadn’t but still Prompto can’t help but feel like he owes him for getting trashed, acting like an idiot, and then initiating sex in a crowded club. And chasing off Ignis in the process. There had been a few more pictures of Gladio and the top of Prompto’s head at the table (apparently drunk Noctis liked to watch.) But not a single one of Ignis after the…main event had begun.

Ignis was next on the apology tour. Prompto isn’t sure if he expects that to be harder or easier than talking to Gladio. …maybe a text would have been better in both cases, if for no other reason than keeping him from dying of shame.

The door swings open just as he’s starting to think Gladio isn’t there, or doesn’t want to see him. He looks like he just woke up, hair sticking up on the top and flattened on one side, amber eyes fogged over and bloodshot, shirtless and squinting out at him.

“Prompto?” His voice was dry and sandpaper rough, cracking on the single word. “What time is it?”

Gladio looks like Prompto feels. He winces then steps back, stomach dropping to somewhere around his knees and heart thudding in his chest. “I…sorry. I can come back. I should have called. I can-”

“Come inside.” Gladio is already turning around and shuffling down the short hallway. Prompto hesitates for a second then, dragging up whatever courage he had, followed the other man inside. He stops to shut the door and slide off his shoes; he finds Gladio in the kitchen staring dully into the refrigerator.

“You eaten anything?”

Prompto’s stomach gurgles unhappily at the suggestion. Gladio snorts then shuts the door and turns to look at him, expression unreadable. Prompto smiles weakly and, when the blank stare stayed blank, he licks his lips anxiously.

And regrets it when Gladio’s eyes follow the motion. He feels heat flooding his face and, before he can stop himself, nervous words bubble forth.

“I’m sorry! About last night. I was…I shouldn’t have done…and in public where people could see and your reputation could get messed up-” He could just imagine it ‘Prince Noctis Sworn Shield Caught getting Public Oral!’ all over tabloid covers and websites. “And Noctis has pictures and Ignis saw and I shouldn’t have gotten thst drunk or put you in that position. And I am just…really sorry.”

Gladio’s stoic expression finally cracked, melting into something that seemed to border on amused. “It wasn’t that public. We were in a private booth.”

“O-oh?” Well that was…something.

“You don’t have to apologize. We were both drunk, we were flirting. It happens.” Gladio leaned against the counter, eyebrow cocked and lips curved into a half smile. “I was sort of impressed, if that makes you feel better. I had to carry you out to a taxi after because you couldn’t stand-”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kept saying you wanted to do that too. Loudly. In detail.” Prompto’s head hits the counter top. Gladio’s laugh is creaky and the sympathetic pat to the top of his head is…vaguely familiar. Like deja vu. Or like he he’d had it in the same place the night before. “But Ignis would have murdered me. And I wasn’t sure if I was too drunk to get it up again or not, so I promised a rain check. You were…really good for someone who couldn’t walk straight.”

Oddly enough that isn’t much of a comfort for Prompto. He does like to think he gives a good blow job, yeah, but he isn’t sure it’s was an upside considering.

“Next time I would suggest somewhere not under a table but other than that,” Gladio’s fingers traveled over his scalp, smoothing out his hair. “I don’t have a problem if you don’t.”

…next time?

“I have you in my sights” by RedGlassesWriter


Wrote a short fic about Mercy and Widowmaker

“Widow, I’m advancing on the target now. Move to operation point  NOW” The harsh rasp of Reaper crackled over Widowmaker’s visor coms. “Roger, advancing on point now” with an effortless sweep of her arm the sniper was air born, sailing through the midday chill of Ecopoint Antarctica. Talon had mobilized based on rumors Sombra had found on the dark web, that Soldier 76 and Shrike had been spotted enroute to the abandoned research station. Widowmaker landed silently at the end of her grapple, readying her rifle she cleared corners as she advanced towards her objective.

“Amiga I have the old bird on security cams. She’s at the operation point, you might want to move it if you don’t want Gabe yelling at us all the way home.” Widowmaker picked up the pace forgoing silence for speed “Merde! Sombra you were supposed to have locked down the facility.”


“Hey puta when you learn how to hack 6 different security countermeasures  at once we can talk, but until then stick to shooting people and eating flies.”

Widowmaker rolled her eyes as she burst through the door. At once former captain Ana Amari spun on her heels firing a tranq dart from her pistol. Widow grappled out of the way landing a kick across the aging snipers face on the way down. She crumpled to the floor with a thud. Her biotic sniper rifle clattered to the floor sliding to a stop below the window. “I’ve arrived at the objective. I have eyes on you” Widow said aloud as she slid her visor into sniping position. She raised her rifle to her eye and saw reaper approaching their quarry. She traced a bead on the back of former Strike Commander Jack Morrison’s head. “No, he’s mine. Just keep me covered” Reapers low growl rumbled in her ear. Widow maker followed the action, Reaper’s shadowy form materialized behind the cautious strike commander, catching him off guard. The blast from his shotgun echoed through the abandoned facility sending Morrison face first into a drift of snow. She could see him reaching for his pulse rifle and instinctively rested her finger upon the trigger of her rifle. Reaper surged forward and drove his boot down on Morrison’s hand.

“Poor little Jack” Widow could hear Reaper over comms. “You are here, cold and alone. Where is your vaunted overwatch now?” She could see Morrison’s head move in response “You’ll have to speak up ‘commander’ I can’t understand you through the bullets in you back” Reaper kicked him over onto his back. Widowmaker could see the old man wince in pain, then something strange happened, she could almost swear he was smiling beneath his mask. Reaper was struck by three pulses of orange light. The black clad leader of Talon jumped back from his former friend, as Morrison was engulfed in golden light.

Widowmaker shielded her eyes against the blinding light. “Widowmaker take the shot!!” Reaper roared as he retreated to cover. She recentered her scope and prepared to fire on the new comer. Her mouth opened in shock as her cross hair landed on Angela Zeigler. “Sombra! You swept the facility non? Why is Mercy here?!” Widowmaker Tensed up as she continued to track the blonde doctor. “I mean, you guys never asked if she was here Araña, soooo i didn’t think it was that important?”


“Mon dieu Sombra, it IS important!” Widow tensed as Reaper rushed towards Mercy

——————————————————————————————————————————–

“Jack why did you bring me all the way out here for?” Angela breathed on her hands for warmth as she Jack and Ana entered the old weather research station. “Because doctor, I need a medical expert to investigate the cryo chambers here. There are none better than you.” Jack patted her on the shoulder and forged ahead. “Alright you two I’m going to get a vantage point to keep watch. I have  a bad feeling about this place” Ana drew her hood and headed up a flight of stairs to their right.

Angela followed Jack into the cryo room, the same one that held Climatologist Mei-Ling Zhou for the last 10 years. “Here Doctor, can you see if there was any tampering done to these capsules? I still find it hard to believe that Mei and her team were trapped in the same machines yet only she survived. Talon had to have been behind the sabotage” Jack laid a hand sympathetically onto Mei’s cryo tube.

“I’m no cryogenics expert Jack, we should have brought Mei along if that’s what you wanted.” Angela looked pensively at her former commander. “I know Angela, but I trust you, and I’m not ready to reveal that Ana and I are alive to the rest of the team just yet. I need more proof about Talon first” He slung his rifle over his shoulder and stepped aside so Angela to could inspect the machine.

“Jack, we’ve got a problem, I just spotted Reyes in the facility, I’m going-” Ana’s transmission was cut off abruptly. “Angela stay here, Talon is in the facility. I need to find Ana.” Before she could object Jack had already sprinted out the door. “You must be senile if you think I’m waiting here” Angela’s wing burst defiantly to life as she chased after jack.

Angela flew low to the ground to keep closer to cover, because she knew that if Talon had mobilized it meant there was good chance Widowmaker was here. She drifted off into memory as she sped after Jack. Angela had been the doctor that had taken care of Amelie Lacroix upon her rescue. Though she was  not proud of it, she thought fondly of the relationship they had started during her hospital stay. Even now the smell of disinfectant and Amelies hair filled her senses as she relived the final night of their tryst. Before Amelie was discharged, and before she murdered her husband and became the Widowmaker.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

Angela was working late in her office at the Overwatch medical center, going over Mrs. Lacroix’s discharge paperwork. Physically she was fine now, but Angela couldn’t help but shake the feeling something wasn’t right. Amelie had passed the psych evaluation, almost too well for a victim of such extreme torture. Angela buried her face in her hands, guilt set in as she thought of the illicit relationship she shared with her soon to be former patient. Had she passed Amelie’s psych eval because she really was alright, or because she wanted Amelie to be alright? The silence of the room began to creep into Angela amplifying the screaming in her head that she had broken her vows as a doctor.

A gentle knocking at her office door snapped Angela back to attention. “Come in” Angela did her best to mask the self loathing in her voice behind a smile. The door opened slowly, as a slender leg emerged from the hallway. Amelie glided gracefully into the office, shutting and locking the door behind her. Amelie was clad in nothing but her hospital gown. “Doctor, I’m here for my physical” the coo of her accent sent chills down Angela’s spine as she advanced upon the doctor. “Amelie we shou-” Angela’s sentence was stopped by a finger placed seductively upon her lips. Before she could protest further Amelie brought her into a deep kiss. “Shh, cherie, no more words” Amelie pulled away, Angela leaning forward chasing for more. Amelie reached behind her neck undoing the tie on her hospital gown, Angela gasped as it hit the floor.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

A shotgun blast rang out through the facility, snapping Angela back to reality. She rounded the corner in time to see Reaper level his shotgun at Jack’s head. In a swift motion she drew her pistol and fired 3 bolts of light, striking Reaper square in the chest, making him retreat in surprise. Angela planted her staff bathing Jack in biotic healing light. “Gabriel! Stand down, let me help you!” Angela leveled her pistol against Reaper. He dissolved into a mist and surged forward, Angela grimaced and fired again, her shots passing harmlessly through him.

Widow maker watched as Reaper reformed strangling Mercy and lifting her into the air. “Move an inch Jack and I snap her neck” Reaper snarled as he aimed a shotgun at Morrison, who had retrieved his rifle. Widowmaker froze, seeing Mercy struggle against Reaper’s grip brought her panic.

“Hey Araña, you might wanna shoot some one already” Sombra’s voice crackled over comms.

“Quoi? Say again Sombra” Widowmaker snapped out of her panic for a moment. “Are you deaf Araña? Shoot someone, I don’t care who, just make a decision and pull the trigger”

Angela struggled against Reaper’s icy grip. “Gabriel, please. Stop this I can help you.” She choked the words out. “You’ve done enough Zeigler. Your precious biotics did this to me, I won’t let you do it again.” Reaper tightened his grip. The world began to go dark, Reaper’s skull mask went out of focus as she began to lose consciousness. Suddenly Reaper’s grip went limp and he slumped backwards, dropping Angela into the snow. She coughed hard as air rushed back into her lungs. “Thanks for the save Ana” there was no response. “Ana?” Angela looked around, vision still blurry. “Shhh, Cherie, no more words” the voice speaking caused all the air to escape Angela’s lungs once again. Tears welled up in Angela’s eyes “Thank you Amelie”

Widowmaker dropped the biotic pistol and retracted  her visor. She exhaled deeply as she went towards the door. “HOOOOOOOO MAN! Araña! That was great! Gabe is gonna be sooooooooooooooo pissed when he wakes up!” Sombras laughter rang in her ear. “Tais-toi Sombra, let’s go before their reinforcements arrive. Reaper can find his own way home.” Widowmaker walked through the door shutting it behind her.

Sombra leaned back and spun in her seat in the security office, a wide smile on her face “I’m happy for you Amelie” she shut off the computer and went to meet her friend.      

Time Travel

an raw idea that my brain couldnt stop thinking for so long since first i watched boku no hero ..

heroes in the future gets bad end. Villain alliance managed to take over society as they murder heores one by one. assassinating heores, framing/ torturing. as well as killing innocent people with quirks. only very few heroes are left until the world is fully goes dark side. Bakugou already gave in and decided to be a villain. Toshi is no longer alive. and all heroes are in to hiding. Deku had already lost his quirk to all for one and is only alive as the villains leave quirkless people be.  Deku still helps the heroes by providing them secret bases/homes/head quarters. 

Keep reading

Ammunition in his castle,
And cannon balls intrude his walls.
What a stir, oh what a hassle!
Is no one there to hear his calls?
Endless tears from his eyes descend,
To wash the red his dead son bled:
“Good God when is this going to end?
This brutal murder and bloodshed?”
Before that night his wife fell dead.
He wept until he fell asleep,
To rest his soul and rest his head,
From this pain he’ll forever keep.
He woke up to screams of pure dread,
And his sons groundshaking weeps.
His only son had fallen dead:
A body buried beneath the gravel,
And ammunition in his castle.
—  “Tragedy” by @ambiguitiesromanticized
Chapter 15- Lights In the Darkness

Word Count: 4096

A/N: this one was not requested, but ive been having really bad writers block lately so to get out of it i wrote something i wanted to write. I was going to make a SERIOUSLY sad ending to this… but idk. maybe i’ll post an alternate ending if anyone is interested. Also i just realized its a very similar title to one of my older ones, oops lol. Much Love!

Originally posted by milakuniis

MasterList


Chapter 15

Lights in the Darkness

    As you know from the past chapters, Riverdale is a dark and dreary place, full of mystery and secrets, betrayal and death. Again, as you already know I live in Riverdale, I am not just a narrator that happens to know the ins and outs of the story from watching from the sidelines or by some magical happening. I know the story because I am part of the story, I am living it and writing it as it happens. As every chapter of this book flies by before your eyes, just know that it was written right after what happened so I didn’t forget a single detail, so I didn’t leave anything out.

    Riverdale is a dark and dreary place, and the mystery and secrets, betrayal and death inhabiting its very air affects every single person living in it. You may be asking ‘How does one deal with such an environment?” and let me be the one to tell you that it is very hard not to get sucked into the darkness yourself. It is possible not to of course, and that’s what I want to talk about in this chapter, I want to take a break from the dreariness of the murder, I want to talk about my light that keeps the darkness at bay.

    Her name is Y/N  Y/L/N, the sun to my days and the stars to my night. Y/N moved to Riverdale only a few weeks before the murder of Jason Blossom took place, only a few weeks before our very own Veronica Lodge. She was easily a source of happiness for everyone around her right away. She came here alone, wanting to get away from her family back in (Your/City/Name). She found herself a cheap, one bedroom apartment and she settled in nicely, barely bringing anything with her to this quaint small town. Before the murder, this town was a great one to live in, the sun was bright and the birds weren’t afraid to sing. Peoples lives seemed perfect, although I know now they were far from it. Small towns that appear happy have a funny way of hiding the true problems residing inside it, it takes a darkness to bring those problems out of the shadows.

    I met her at Pops. She was sitting in my booth eating a burger and watching Netflix on her phone. Instead of sitting right away though, I observed her for a moment or two. I watched as she scolded the screen out loud, not caring if anyone in the diner was staring, which they were. I watched as her face would light up or darken, mimicking the mood of whatever she was watching. I noticed how her (Y/H/C) hair fell over her face and how her (Y/E/C) eyes shone bright. She turned and noticed me, smiling softly, and that ladies and gentlemen is the exact moment I knew I was done for. I fell in love in that moment, it hits you like a ton of bricks and it knocks the wind out of you.

    I’m not much of a smiling person if you didn’t figure that out already, but I made an exception for her. I always make an exception for her. I smiled back and walked the rest of the way to the booth, and she removed her headphones.

    “You’re in my booth.” I said, and she leaned back, giving me a slight smirk.

    “I didn’t know you could own booths, do you pay rent?” she asked, and I chuckled. She had a sense of humor just like mine, dry and sarcastic.

    “I pay the amount of rent in burgers and milkshakes, and I always sit here, so yes.” I replied and she nodded, chuckling to herself.

    “Well, it looks like you just got yourself a roommate.” She said, and I sat down in front of her.

    “I can deal with that, just don’t tell anyone I gave in so easily, they’ll start trying to take advantage of my kindness as well.” I teased and she nodded her head, sticking out her pinky finger. I had looked down at her finger and then back up at her, giving her a puzzled look. “Are you five? You still do pinky promises?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

    “Do it or I call the landlord over and tell him you’ve been trashing the place and need to be evicted.” She joked and I linked my pinky with hers. “I promise not to tell anyone you gave in like a little bitch so easily to me.” she said, laughing, and I quickly pulled my pinky away, giving her a slight glare and a smirk. I could tell from our first interaction our friendship would be full of back and forth banter like this, sarcastic and bitchy comments thrown back and forth at each other. Relentless and never-ending. I was looking forward to it. That night we talked for what felt like forever, getting to know each other. I found myself spilling details about myself to her that I haven’t even told my closest friends, she pulled them out of me somehow. She felt safe, like my secrets were safe in her knowledge.

    After that, she came every night and so did I. We talked and got to know each other even more, and we instantly became best friends. Seeing her was slowly becoming part of my normal routine, and if I didn’t see her at least once a day, I felt like I had wasted my day and hadn’t lived it to the fullest. Thankfully she felt the same, and we went out on adventures together. When Archie had cancelled our road trip, she was quick to offer that she and I take a smaller one, so we did. We climbed into her small car and drove all the way back to her hometown, and she showed me all her favourite spots there. We ran into a cousin of hers, and they talked about how worried her aunt was. When she asked about her mom and dad, her cousin sorrowfully looked at her and informed her that they hadn’t mentioned her.

    That night was the first time I had seen her cry, sitting in her car, her head rested on the steering wheel and tears fell freely from her eyes. I looked in through the drivers-side window and I opened the door. She quickly sat up, wiping away her tears and giving her best fake smile, but I wasn’t having it. I took her hand and I pulled her out of the car, wrapping my arms protectively around her. I held her in my chest, as if to shield her from anything else that might make her feel this way, anything else that would make her cry. It was that night she had told me the extent of her prior home life, and her mental state as well. It crushed me to hear, and I swore that I was going to make everything better for her, just like she was doing for me.

    When we drove back she was silent most of the time. I didn’t try to break it, I knew she needed to think, and although I didn’t have my license I took the wheel from her and drove the rest of the way. We got to her apartment around midnight and she threw her stuff into her room, sprawling out on her bed. I didn’t know what to do with myself in that moment, I just watched as she cried. I must have stood there for what felt like forever, when I was with her time went by slowly. She sat up slowly, taking my hand and she pulled me down on the bed as well.

    I laid down in her bed and pulled her into my chest, she snuggled into me and we were together like that for most of the night. She fell asleep, and so did I, and it was some of the best sleep I had gotten in what felt like forever. I woke up to her not in her bed, and I got worried, wondering if she ran off because of what happened to her back home. My worries soon resided though as I heard singing from the kitchen, and I laughed to myself. I got out of bed, and what I saw made my heart melt. I saw her dancing in the kitchen, singing along to her favourite songs and cooking pancakes. She turned and noticed me, but instead of ceasing her singing and dancing, she brought the spatula up to her face and sang to me. Have you ever had that moment where something amazing happens, and your chest tightens and the room seems to get warmer, the light in the room becomes brighter, and you find yourself wishing for that moment to last forever? That’s exactly what happened to me, and it was like I felt the exact moment I fell even deeper in love with her.

    She walked up to me, spatula in hand and continued to sing, grabbing my hand with her free one and she attempted to get me to dance with her. Who was I to refuse? I awkwardly swayed with the music, causing her to laugh which made me laugh as well.

    “Don’t like my dancing?” I asked, and she shook her head.

    “I never said that.” She playfully argued.

    “You’re laughing.” I said, and she shrugged.

    “So are you.” She made a good point, and I didn’t have much of an argument for that, so instead I continued my awkward swaying. She rolled her eyes and started mimicking my dancing. “I can’t let you look stupid alone.” she said, and I smiled. Ladies and gentlemen, get yourselves a partner who won’t let you look stupid alone, they’re keepers for sure. It was then I realized she still had my hand, and she realized it at the same time too, looking down at our intertwined fingers. I couldn’t stop myself in this moment, I took a leap of faith and I pulled her towards me, crashing my lips into hers. Have you ever heard the expression ‘and sparks flew’? They did, we both felt them, and we sat there for what felt like forever enjoying the moment, neither of us wanting to pull away.

    “Shit.” She mumbled against my lips, pulling apart quickly and flipping the very burnt pancake.

    “You burnt the pancake.” I laughed, and she walked to me, leaning in very close.

    “Yeah, I was a little distracted.” And with that, she draped her arms around my neck and pulled me down into another kiss. That was the day we became official, and if you ask me now what the best day of my life was, I’ll most likely answer with that one. Things between us were great, until that is the day Jason Blossoms body was discovered. It really shook up everything in our little town, as you all know. Not only did it affect the Blossom family’s relationship with each other, but it shook up relationships of all kind around the town. Y/N and I were no exception. This novel was a spontaneous decision I made, deciding I wanted to leave something behind in this world, tell the truth about Jason and finally put my writing skills to use.

    She supported me from day one, and sat with me at Pops while I write, which if you didn’t know already is where I do most of my writing. Throughout the process of writing this novel, I’ve gone to great lengths to get the truth, lots of investigating and getting myself into dangerous situations, which she would always come with me on. I told her she shouldn’t, I was scared she was going to get hurt, and we even had our first major fight about it.

    “Jughead, there is no way in hell I am letting you go after that car alone!” she had exclaimed, to which I had thrown my hands up and rolled my eyes, getting very annoyed.

    “How many times do I have to tell you, I won’t be alone, Betty will be with me and I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.” I told her for what had to be the millionth time. She crossed her arms across her chest, and leaned against her counter.

    “I don’t care, I’m coming so I can make sure you’re okay.” she said, and I scoffed.

    “No, this is not your car to find, this is mine and Bettys.” I said angrily, raising my voice. I regret it now, she was only just trying to look out for me.

    “I don’t care, I don’t want you getting hurt Jughead!” she yelled. This is where I really regret the things I said, I was so angry in the moment, I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing, or what I was saying to her.

    “You’re just jealous of Betty, aren’t you?” I yelled, and she stood frozen. Her face went from angry to saddened, and I felt my heart drop in that moment.

    “No Jughead, I am not jealous, why would I have any reason to be jealous of you two, unless you have something you’d like to tell me?” she asked, backing slowly out of the kitchen. Before I had any chance of answering, she spoke again. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know if I should be jealous, and you know what else? Go on with Betty, go find the car. Have fun, and just know that even though I’m pissed at you, if you need me you can call.” And with that she exited the kitchen, locking herself into our bedroom that we shared in her apartment. When I look back at it, I feel lucky, most people would have told me to not call even if I needed something. She loved me enough to tell me she’d still answer, and here I was accusing her of things she didn’t feel and being an all-around ass to her.

    That night I went with Betty, and we found the car. It was pouring rain, and we didn’t notice the car that had followed us there. As you know, when we opened the trunk we found Jasons belongings, and some drugs, and that’s how we knew that Pollys story checked out. When we were making our way back to the police station, a car was behind us, and we didn’t notice until we heard the roar of the engine and saw it coming straight towards the two of us. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Y/N came out of no-where pushing Betty and I out of the way. We hit the ground, covered in mud and heard a scream, and the car sped off. She got hit.

    I felt as if the life had drained out of me, everything went into a blur and I was dizzy, this couldn’t have happened. I was having a nightmare, I had to have been having a nightmare. I couldn’t move, I wasn’t able to move and I faintly heard Betty yelling for me to help her with Y/N. Y/N wasn’t responding, Betty was in a panic as her friend laid in the mud, broken and bloody, risking her life for the two of us. I finally snapped myself out of my trance, Y/N needed me. I picked her up, scared to move her because I didn’t want to break her more, she was so fragile and delicate in my arms. She looked so crumpled and defeated, so unlike her strong and confident composure she usually wore, and I started crying.

     “Jughead, we need to get her to the hospital and go to the police station!” Betty yelled, running down the street. I ran after her, tears mixing with the rain. We bust through the ER doors, I carried her to the lady at the desk, and I couldn’t make out the words, I was panicked as I saw the life drain out the light of my life. Everything was going dark, I couldn’t do it without her. I couldn’t do anything without her. The lady at the front desk didn’t need any words, she called for the doctors and men came running out, placing her on a gurney and taking her into the hall. I tried to follow, but they held me back. Betty took my arm, wiping tears from my face, but I could tell she was crying too.

    “I can’t do this without her. I won’t do this without her.” I sobbed, and Betty shook her head.

    “She’ll be fine, Juggie. I promise.” She said, trying to comfort me. She went to the police station alone that night, but only after I had told her she had to. She put up a fight, wanting to stay with Y/N, but I told her that they knew we found the car and that they’d be after it. When they found the car on fire, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that Y/N had risked her life for nothing. I spent nights there, crying and talking to doctors, nurses, and police officers, and never leaving her side unless I was forced to.

    “Jughead, you need to go to school, you’ve missed too many days and the teachers are getting upset.” Betty said, leaning against the doorframe to Y/Ns hospital room. I didn’t acknowledge her presence because to me, there was no one else in this world but Y/N, even if she hadn’t woken up in days. “Jughead Jones, did you hear a-“

    I didn’t let her finish her sentence, and I was refusing to leave. “I heard you, I just don’t care.” I had shot at her angrily, although I shouldn’t have, none of this was her fault. Thankfully, she didn’t take it to heart, she brushed it off and walked into the room and stood beside me. We stood in silence for a few minutes, just watching at Y/N laid there, helplessly and broken. Tears started falling down my face, and Betty was quick to notice, she pulled me into a hug and I accepted, and I cried into her shoulder.

    “She’ll be fine Jug, she’ll wake up and you’ll be able to hold her and love her and apologize soon enough.” Betty told me, trying to comfort me, but at that moment I wasn’t listening. My head was running through scenarios where I could have saved her, what if when she pushed us, I had grabbed her hand and pulled her down with me. What if I had just let her come in the first place, then maybe she wouldn’t have had to sneak around. This was my fault, I hurt the love of my life.

    “Juggie?” a small whisper called, and I quickly pulled apart from Betty and turned around to see Y/N waking up.

    “Y/N!” I flew to her side, taking her hand in mine, and she smiled up at me.

    “I totally told you so.” she faintly giggled, and I broke out in a grin. “You needed me, you’re welcome.” That’s where I chuckled, nodding my head furiously.

    “You told me, I didn’t listen, and I am so incredibly sorry.” She rolled her eyes and sat up, and I watched as pain spread across her face at the action.

    “Damn, if I had known taking one for the team would hurt so bad I wouldn’t have joined.” She teased, and Betty laughed slightly. Y/N looked past me and saw Betty, and smiled as the blonde made her way towards the bed.

    “I don’t think you had much of a choice but to join, your best friend and boyfriend are on it.” Betty said, and Y/N chuckled, nodding her head.

    “You made a good point Bets.” The rest of the day, Betty and I sat with Y/N talking about whatever, and she was released from the hospital the next day. Even though she had a broken arm, broken ribs, and a concussion, Y/N continued to be a happy person, and I was glad to have her back. That night, we were lying in bed talking when I started to hear sniffling. I turned to her and saw she was crying, and when I asked her why, she spilled that the whole Jason was affecting her, she too felt the darkness that was lingering around Riverdale. She said she was scared because she felt like it was triggering her depression, making it worse than usual. I couldn’t help but feel my heart drop. She told me she thought she was crazy for what she was feeling, and I shook my head, pulling her carefully into my chest.

    “You’re not crazy, the whole town can feel it.” I reassured her, and she nodded her head slightly. “I’ve been feeling it, ever since Jason turned up shot in the head, the darkness is all I notice around here anymore. It’s impossible to not be somewhat affected by it, but it’s possible not to get sucked into it, I’ve found a way.”

    “How?” She whispered this simple question so softly, it made me smile.

    “Focus on the things you love. For me, it’s you. You have been my guiding light through all the pain and sadness that lingers around this town. You made me smile and laugh when the darkness is trying to make me frown and cry. You make me feel safe and happy instead of the fear and sadness that has infested this small town of ours. It’s not a bad town, it just has a really bad thing hanging over it.” I said and she sat up, looking me in the eyes and she leaned in to kiss me. I met her halfway, and we poured as much love and affection as we could in this soft, gentle kiss. When we pulled apart, I could see her eyes were still watering.

    “Forsythe.” I smile at her use of my real name, I liked it when she said it. “I love you.” she said, and my heart rate picked up. That was the first time she had ever said those three words to me. I knew I loved her, as we know I fell for her the first time I saw her, and I had been carrying those three words around with me like a weight on my shoulder, wanting nothing more to tell her, but I was afraid. After she told me, I felt as if I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, I knew that I wanted to. My future was in stone, it was going to be me and her against the world, nobody was going to stop our love.

    “Y/N, I love you too.” A tear fell down her face, and she pulled me into another kiss. She told me later that she had been carrying those words with her for what felt like forever as well, and when I said them back she swore she’d love me forever. We know that we are meant to be, a match made in heaven, as some might say.

    This is not the end of the book, this was a break from the dreariness of the story I’m sharing with you. I wanted to give you some light in this dark book, I wanted to attempt to do to you what Y/N does to me. Her and I still solve the case, and you’ll hear a lot more about her in the pages to come. I can only hope that when you see her name, it will shine and make this sad story a little more bearable as she does for everyone who lived through it. I hope you find your Y/N, because everyone deserves their own personal sun in the day and stars in the night. Everyone deserves love.

     Jason deserved it, Polly deserved it, but Jason was taken away from this world too soon, and as of right now, the only lead we have is Veronica Lodges dad. A new theory recently came to light, a theory that made Hiram a suspect in the poor boy’s murder, a theory that told a story of Hiram killing a kid to get back at the Blossoms. A life taken in the name of revenge, so many opportunities and stories that will never unfold because of jealousy and rage. That is what the next chapter is about, this is where things get dark once again.

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anonymous asked:

i know from years in acting/production, it's so problematic for d to be doing a role of this nature, while dealing w/ the stress of M around. it totally compromises him physically/mentally/emotionally. it affects the work, cast/crew, & it's massively unhealthy for d. that he has to engage w/ her at all, anywhere, is bs, but this is particularly fucked up. i know she's nearly gone, but each day until then can still be so damaging.

Thank you Anon, I have to say that I whole heartedly agree with every word you say. And perhaps that comes from a place of knowing and observing a little but too much and knowing that she is a toxic person that affects Darren negatively.  From a place of knowing that he has suffered emotional distress and turmoil due to her actions. 

I understand bearding. I understand PR. I understand contracts. And I understand final pay out (though how this is necessary when she has more than violated the terms of any contract that could have been signed is beyond me). I turn my head and look the other way for most of these stunts. Go ahead buy her and Zoe a new car. Fantastic.  Go to Frat Style parties with overgrown, spoiled children. Whatever.  Let her be in the video, it will turn off tons of fans (and not just us CCers but the myriad that I have met that absolutely cannot stand her for good reason), but if that is what it takes, got it, bring it on. Sing a duet, bad strategy in my opinion as it only highlights how untalented she is, but again, if that is what her ego needs to walk, let her have it.  

Let her sing What’s Up in 10,000 different settings from Karaoke bars, to weddings, to parties. It won’t change anything.  The sad thing for her-the ship has sailed, she should have attempted this long ago when she was handed every opportunity in the world to be a successful musician. She should have taken vocal lessons. She should have spent time practicing. She should not have left behind every band she started because bearding was an easier way to the short lived D list fame she sought.  But again, if this is the way we have to endure to get her to walk away, finally and many, many years too late, I will just ignore it.

I was particularly annoyed this weekend that Darren had to leave Miami on his weekend off to go to NYC to attend a wedding of her friend, a wedding she could have taken the actual person she shares a life and a house with who would have been thrilled to finally be recognized as her boyfriend, but I get it. If this was part of what he negotiated to get her out of his life for good, fine.  If she wants to channel her inner Lea, fine, though what she thinks she is accomplishing is beyond me, she is only highlighting that she is a cheap imitation.  Sunday they saw Hello Dolly. Again, I think against the better judgment of his team, but it’s supposed to be an amazing show. They were already in the city, what is another outing?  Just ignore it.

But for her to follow him to Miami and for him to be forced to take her out for a night on the town, the night before the murder of Gianni Versace was to be filmed, is utterly and completely ridiculous and unnecessary.

Fact. Darren’s career could significantly change after this series airs. Fact this could be absolutely amazing and the highlight of his career to date bringing critical acclaim and potential award nominations. But it is also a fact that this could go spectacularly wrong.

And if he is not able to get into the head space required to play this completely complex, depraved, immoral, and deviant man, the series will fail.  And having her in Miami, anywhere near him, has the ability to adversely affect his ability to adequately prepare and to take on the persona of this serial killer.

Last night Darren should not have been forced to escort her around town so she can butcher the same song for the 99th time. He should have been able to have the opportunity to prepare for today. Ideally surrounded by people who love and support him. And not a person that has manipulated and abused him for years.

I know others disagree. I know they will scream this is what it takes to get her to walk away. NO.  I do NOT agree. The aforementioned stunts are what is going to get her to walk away. Her presence in Miami is overstepping what is required and is interfering with what should be a safe space, devoid of distress and abuse and childish games.

Mean concept:

Phoenix finally has found back into theater again. He’s flourishing, glowing in a way that resembles yet is different from when he’s at his best at court. He’s more… at ease. Relaxed. And giddy, because he’ll play soon enough in a Shakespeare production going on stage. Hamlet it is.

Then, on the night before the opening, the lead actor is murdered and somebody strikes down Phoenix.

He’s hurt badly enough that he has to stay in the hospital. But that isn’t what drags him down, what makes him a passive ball of misery.

Everything on a stage is only play, make-belief. Drama might happen behind the scenes, but the big tragedies and deaths are only stories. Nobody’s life or freedom hinges on anybody defending them. It should have been a normal day. But apparently his luck says otherwise. He can’t perform; the production’s opening is threatened; the actors and the employees maybe will lose their jobs; and worst of all, somebody was murdered, again - in the one place Phoenix had considered as his ‘happy / safe place’.

Why can’t his life be normal for once? Why must everything go wrong, especially for other people, wherever he goes? He just wanted to enjoy himself, but now…

Miles’ reaction to Phoenix’s misery and the reason why is… visceral.

(Miles, this is called ‘conflict of interest’. Remember that concept?)