yes i am aware of the fact that i need jesus

13x04: What’s the Deal with Catharsis?

This isn’t funny anymore. I am not okay. I’m in a state of needing to do laps around my room (and the room is roomy enough to be comfy) (but roomy enough for doing laps in it ain’t). All this excess energy is making me sweat even when I sit still!! (I exaggerate) But Jesus Mary and Joseph the writers and cast and crew and the whole shebang and shindig is giving us… SO MUCH. *everything* 

So, here’s the recipe for Deconstructing Dean: 

You take Dean Winchester, you make him slam all his walls back in place and you drain him of the want to feel anything, because the pain is too much to handle, so if he feels it, he knows it’ll fucking break him, right? 

Now for the most crucial part: you make him act the part of his father and you make him latch onto that persona, one that he’s cultivated within himself in order to be the good son, the responsible big brother, the dutiful soldier, the hero. Only this time you make this persona into what it really is without the warmth and hope and love that is at the heart of Dean Winchester: you make it a shell. You make it obvious that this persona is based in the lie Dean has always told himself of who he needs to be in order to cope, in order to be strong, to carry all this weight placed on his shoulders from too young an age. 

And Dean himself doesn’t even believe in this lie anymore: 

  • Refusing to listen to Miriam’s tirades and his comment of “I’m just a guy doing a job” in 13x01 began to deliver a sense of maturity, of Dean truly on the cusp of growing the fuck up
  • In 13x02 this was pushed further with Jack’s line: Pain is part of the complete human experience. Accepting it is a sign of maturity.
  • In 13x03, Dean’s actual aversion to his toxic masculinity and his need to address it and reject it was highlighted through every plot line in that episode being rooted in Dean’s self-examination and what he needs to understand: no one can tell you who you are - you choose who to be. (choice and identity) (like wow)
  • By 13x04 it’s clear to this meta writer exactly how much Dean knows his performance is a shell, but there’s no way he can let go of it. It’s his safety net now, keeping all the feelings at bay. Feelings are weaknesses, his performance says, and shuts them all out
  • Save one, of course, and that’s the anger

How is it highlighted to us that he knows the performance is a shell? 

–> By him asking Sammy to keep the faith for the both of them. 

Dean’s aware of what he’s doing, he’s so aware of shutting everyone out, and he knows, deep down, that it isn’t him, that he wants to believe they can save Mary because he can see that there’s a chance, but right now… all faith has drained from him because the root of his hope for the future has been taken away. (yes of course that’s Cas)

How else can we ascertain that Dean, deep down, wants to mature?

Well, how about –>

Sam: He was really into the whole catharsis thing.
Dean: Yeah, sure, who wouldn’t be, if it’s like another word for happy ending?

Now, they really, really could’ve written this line in a way that didn’t imply that Dean is actually saying what? He is saying that he can understand why Wes was into the whole catharsis thing when catharsis was another word for happy ending. Meaning Dean can understand why someone would want to work on themselves on the basis of getting their happy ending. MEANING DEAN WINCHESTER WANTS A HAPPY ENDING. He still wants that long and happy life, he just doesn’t see it anymore for REASONS.


And for someone who abjectly dismisses the idea of therapy as bullcrap and thinks the whole thing is like snake oil for the mind…

Okay, so, I know Dean is anti-everything here. I get it. He is demonstrating how little faith he has in this brain-scrambling, emotion-combing time waster of an endeavour, right? But I just want to look a tiny bit closer at this specific moment in this scene.

Because look at Dean’s body language –> it’s completely open. 

Jensen is formidable in using body language and those famed micro-expressions to tell us tons about Dean. That’s because he’s a formidable actor and using body language and micro-expressions is part of his job. Human communication is more than 50% based in body language, so to say that this tool for subtext doesn’t matter to the story, that the visual narrative is a layer that can be dismissed as unimportant, is mildly insane. Just in case anyone ever says that. (I bid you stop it) (not to be bossy) (just please seriously)

Also, look at Jared sat at the edge of that sofa, Dean taking up space, spreading himself out like an alpha male. Sam looks more defensive than Dean here, and considering where this scene is headed, there’s no wonder. What’s so subtle about this, though, is that by the end of the episode we’ll get a small catharsis from Dean, where he puts words to how he’s feeling, answering the question from Sam that opens the entire episode, so Dean’s open body language towards Sam here can also be seen as foreshadowing of that, that he’s open wide to the fact that Sam is actually right. *slow eyebrow raise*

And then there’s how Dean asks his question:

Mom was great, now she’s dead–>

–> Dismissive to a fault, because Dean’s grief truly is not tied to Mary, because deep down Dean can see the worth in Sam’s belief that they can get her back, underneath all that pain there is still a glimmer of hope.

What’s the deal with catharsis?–>

–> Yeah, exactly - Dean throws this out there and does so immediately. Again, it of course has to do with his attitude towards therapy in general, it’s to do with the anger masking his pain, but it’s also a defence mechanism, because he isn’t ready to be open, no matter how much he subconsciously wants to be, or feels he needs to be. Asking this question here just underlines this already hinted at need, because deep down Dean wants to believe there’s something that can somehow lead him to a happy ending, he wants to know what the deal with catharsis is for himself, because he wants to have faith in the future again. He just can’t right now, because his future burned on a pyre not very long ago. 

I mean the GROWING PAINS of it all! Dean Winchester is maturing into an adult before our very eyes and it makes me so fucking happy for him!! And what does that small moment at the end of the episode, the moment of very very tentative catharsis (hopefully leading to a properly significant moment in 13x05) still give him? That one tiny line of dialogue where he admits to Sam how Sam’s been right in calling him out on his behaviour and how he doesn’t want to be like this forever, it’s just for now, because right now he doesn’t believe in a damn thing.

It gets him this –>


Something Stupid (Like I Love You)

Title: Something Stupid (Like I Love You)

Summary: Dean didn’t think he could ever be jealous over someone who’s not his. He was wrong.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (mentioned), OMC.

Word count: 2014

Warnings: Not much. Tiny bit of fluff, some angst and a whole lot of language (because we all know that Dean and the f-word go together). Jealous Dean, I guess?

Author’s Notes: This is my sumbission for @death2thevirgin “Cassie Classic Challenge”. Cassie, congratulations on your milestone and thank you for letting me participate. I loved working on this one. 

Also, I’d like to thank my amazing twin @ravengirl94 for her insightful comment on part of the dialogue -which was really needed- and some general advices about the beginning. Twin, YOU’RE THE BEST!

Now. My prompt for this was “I wish I knew how to quit you” from Brokeback Mountain and is included in bold in the text below. (This is written entirely from Dean’s POV)

Originally posted by yaelstiel

The tiny bar was crowded, filled with smoke and hundreds of conversations narrated in loud voices, brightened only by some old bar lights. Rock music blasted through the jukebox and people around Dean laughed and danced and talked in an annoying cheerful manner.

And he… Well. He absolutely hated it because there was nothing to be cheerful about.

Swirling the amber liquid in his glass, he let the alcohol burn down his throat, eyes focused on the fascinating girl that was sitting a few tables away from him.

She was beautiful in that old Bad Company T-shirt that had once been his, head thrown back and eyes twinkling as she laughed at something the blue-eyed man next to her had said. She looked happy and engaged in a conversation with a man that wasn’t him and he knew, no matter how much it pained him to admit it, that she wouldn’t be heading back to their table anytime soon.

And part of him realized that it shouldn’t bother him. He realized that he had no right to be jealous and that Y/N was free to do as she pleased but the sight of her so close to another man, laughing at his stupid jokes and looking at him like he was the moon and the stars hurt him. Because only minutes earlier she had been chuckling at his antics, arm brushing up against his and bright, wide smile playing at the corners of her lips ever every time she caught him staring.

And he wasn’t being possessive. Or, at least, not entirely. Surely, he hated the idea of someone else putting their hands on Y/N, abhorred the mere possibility of that asshole kissing her, tracing soft skin and curves with his fingers, doing all the things Dean wished he could but knew he’d be never able to.

And yet, he was aware that she wasn’t his to begin with.

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anonymous asked:

Peter and tony "Don't you /dare/ say I don't care about you!"

 “Don’t say a word,” Tony said firmly, as they both stood face-to-face in the remains of Loki’s destruction, “not a single fucking one.”

Peter shuffled, opening his mouth a fraction, but Tony jerked forward, hand outstretched and a metal finger pressing against his lips, “not a single word, Peter, what part of that do you not underst- no, no, wait, never mind, don’t-”

“I understand all of it, I just sometimes really need to say things and want to know why exactly they’re happening, like now all I want to know is why I’m supposed to be keeping my mouth shut, although actually I think I’ve worked it out after saying all of this,” Peter babbled, eyes growing steadily wider the further he delved into his own sentence.

He hadn’t…. he hadn’t meant to say any of that. That had been a brain-thought, not a mouth-thought. What the fuck? “Loki- did he put a spell on us?”

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed irritably, “yes- and now if either of us asks the other a question, we will answer 100% truthfully with no filter whatsoever, so until this thing wears off, we keep our sentences completely questionless. Completely. No exceptions. ”

Peter paused for a few seconds, before blurting “I’ve never been put under a spell before. This is kinda awesome. Oh- it doesn’t hurt to remove them, does it? Oh, wait, shit, question-”

“It depends on the spell, and the emotional connection you have with it. For instance, I once got a touch-telepathy spell put on me in the middle of a fight and then had to hold a little boy while he died, which was incredibly painful, but just for different reasons- and Peter Parker I would like you to know that I fucking hate you, what do you not understand about ‘no questions’- oh, Jesus Christ-”

“Like I said, I understand all of it, but I’m not used to thinking too carefully about what I say, I mean, what if- no, shit, question word, okay….uhm,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think how best to ask a question without asking a question, “The inflections of our voice might even affect whether we perceive it to be a question, I assume,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” Tony nodded, and then sighed again, “let it be known that I really fucking hate Loki. I thought we were done with this nonsense. I thought I wasn’t going to have any more issues with doing dumb shit under the influence of magic in front of other people. Jesus Christ. Hope you’re happy, asshole,” he muttered, looking up at the sky before turning on his heel and surveying the damage the Trickster god had left behind.

“I am, actually,” Peter said, and Tony swung back around, eyes wide, but Peter was off again, and there was no stopping him, “I always get a rush after fights that don’t end with any deaths, and generally speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with life.”

He slapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks reddening. Tony looked at him a little awkwardly, before nodding. “Right. Cool. I’m… I mean, I’m glad you’re happy. Although I was actually trying to talk to Loki.”

Peter nodded. “I was aware. I don’t… I don’t know why I said that.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, so it’s not just for questions that are directed at us, then? Interesting. Annoying, but- interesting.”

Peter shuffled on his feet. “So how long does it take for the spell to wear off? And what should I do when I’m around people? Sorry- I have to ask,” Peter said apologetically, and Tony huffed, but shrugged immediately after.

“Usually about 24 hours for the spell to wear off. You’re lucky it’s a Saturday, or you’d have to go to school with that shit. As it is, you can just stay with me, if you want. Or you can go home and tell Aunt May what’s happened.”

Peter thought about going home- about how many questions May always asked him when he stepped through the door, which he always veiled, just a little. The thought of him being 100% truthful to some of the questions she asked…

He shuddered in horror. “I think I’ll stay with you, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright, I love having you around,” Tony said immediately, and then clenched his eyes shut, “oh, Jesus Christ, I hate truth spells. They are the fucking worst ones. Just… just shut up and hop on, kid,” he said gruffly, opening his arms.

Peter was about to say something, but he decided against it as he stepped into Tony’s hold. There was currently an 87% chance it would go badly- which was a good 43% higher than his average rates. 

The ride back was silent as expected, and when Tony dropped them on the roof, he pulled out of his suit immediately and turned on his heel. “Food in the kitchen, films on JARVIS, knock yourself out. I’m going to be ignoring you in the workshop- you come down there for nothing other than the fact that you are close to imminent death. And I mean imminent. If you are dying, but slowly, it can still wait.”

“Can’t I just come down to the workshop and be quiet?” Peter called out after him.

“Peter, you don’t know what the word ‘quiet’ even means. I’ve asked you not to speak like, 19 different times in the past ten minutes, and you have listened on exactly 0 occasions.”

“I can be quiet!” Peter called, but Tony had hopped down the stairs without looking back, and Peter was left on the roof.

He sighed. This was going to be a fun weekend.

3 films, a seasons of Brooklyn 99 and exactly one empty kitchen later, and Peter was just about ready to start jumping off the walls in boredom.

He wanted to go and see Ned. But that would just be a travesty in every single way, knowing his friend’s track record of secret-keeping mixed in with his never-ending stream of question asking.

God, he was only 14 hours into this shit. 

The clean-up crews were working out on the streets- Peter could see them through the huge glass windows, and he sort of wished he could join them, but again, social situations were a bad idea at that point in time. 

Goddamn Loki. Peter really didn’t like that guy. He’d already tried to destroy New York once before- and now here he’d come again, years later, doing nothing more than annoy both Tony and Peter for a couple of hours before disappearing, leaving them both with an irritating truth spell as a parting gift.


Groaning, he flicked the TV on to the news and flopped backward into the couch. It was the usual post-battle breakdown, this time with a woman standing in front of a particularly grim-looking pile of rubble, face sad as she stared into the camera.

“And once more, I am stood amongst what remains of a local supermarket, staring around me and wondering- where are the superheroes now?”

Peter rolled his eyes. Right. So it was one of those news channels. He should really turn it over, it wasn’t going to offer anything worthwhile.

At that moment, there was a hissing noise behind him, and Peter’s head turned, watching Tony as he slipped through the doors and headed to the kitchen. He waved absently in Peter’s direction, but didn’t stop to talk as he padded over to the open-plan kitchen behind Peter.

“You’d think, what with Iron Man’s lesser half being the great Tony Stark, that there’d be some funding going into the rebuild of some of these buildings, but so far, as always, the billionaire has yet to declare-”

“What bullshit,” Peter muttered, turning back to the screen and staring in disdain. Everyone knew how much Tony put in- he’d been cleaning up after the Avengers since the Battle of New York. “Who the hell do these people think they are?”

It wasn’t directed at Tony, but he must have heard it, because Peter heard the man clearing his throat to begin talking, “they’re reporters, Peter, and I’m just the target. I’m easy. They need something to base their stories on.”

Peter stopped, face scrunching up incredulously, “but you do so much for them! You fought for them in the Superhero Civil War! Why would they-”

God, he really had to work on keeping his conversations question free.

“Because no-one cares about the guy behind the IronMan faceplate, kiddo,” he said with a shrug, and then scowled, “God, Peter, you really don’t have a filter, do y-”

“I care,” Peter said indignantly, turning around fully now, back to the couch as he stared across the room and over to Tony, who was staring at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

It didn’t last long, though. Tony’s face fell a little, and he shook his head. “Right. Sure. Just… just turn the channel over, Peter-”

“Wait, do you think I’m ly- no, no, wait, sorry, you don’t have to answer-”

But Tony was already going off, mug clutched tightly between tired fingers as he glared mutinously at Peter, “of course you don’t, kid, you like me because I’m cool and I get you fancy gear, but you don’t…not really. I’m not an easy one to care for- you know that. Why do you think everyone’s left? Once the defects in my personality start outweighing the pros of my money or my influence, it stops being so fun.”

There was dead silence, where Tony just looked over at Peter, mouth hanging open in mortification. Peter was staring at him, completely shocked by what he’d just heard.

Did Tony really think….

“Jesus,” the man muttered for the billionth time, swallowing heavily and turning away, thrusting his cup back on the sideboard, “okay, well, good talk, let’s never do that again-”

And then he was speedwalking out, leaving Peter sat, stunned, on the couch, emotions growing in his stomach until he felt like he might explode with them.

What the hell? What the goddamn hell-

He jumped off the couch angrily, storming after Tony, who’d almost made it to the stairs down the corridor by that point. “HEY!” He yelled at the rapidly moving body ahead of him, and Tony jerked a little, stopping in his tracks to look over at Peter in surprise. The tone of voice, the anger in it, probably came as a bit of a shock to him.
It sort of came as a surprise to Peter too, to be honest, 

“What the hell?” Peter asked incredulously, flinging his hand out, “what the hell did you just say? Did you just try and tell me you don’t think I don’t care?”

“Peter, stop asking-”

“Tony, you’re so stupid! Why do you think I like hanging out at the tower so much- and no, not just the workshop, the kitchen and the living room and the gym, why do you think I do that?”

“Well, I mean, I’d guess it was just so you could-”

“Why do you think I call you when I get into trouble, or always ask you for advice, or how I text you after every scuffle I get into because I know that you worry if I don’t, I know it Tony-”

“I- I, well, I mean I just kind of assumed you were being polite? I-”

Peter choked, lip curling in exasperation. “Tony. You are a walking disaster and you worry stupid amounts about me, and you don’t understand boundaries very well and you can annoy the damn hell out of me- and you’re always, always there for me when I need you. You matter to me, Tony, for God’s sake, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a dad. Since I met you I feel like I’ve got someone else I can rely on, which is a pretty fucking big deal to me, because all I had before was Aunt May, and I love her to pieces but it was difficult for the both of us - so don’t you dare try and tell me I don’t care, because it just makes you sound like a fucking asshole.”

Peter breathed deep, clenching his jaw and dropping the finger that had risen to point accusingly over at Tony, who was stood rigidly a few feet in front of him. His eyes were blown wide, mouth hanging open a little, and his eyebrows were almost at his hairline, they were raised that high.

No one said anything. Peter sighed, feeling the anger leaving him as suddenly as it had come. He just felt tired. Truth spells weren’t as fun as he’d previously imagined.

Tony was still staring a little incredulously, and then he jerked. A full-body spasm, like he couldn’t quite compute what he’d just heard. Peter just shook his head. “Sorry. Know you didn’t want me to ask you questions. I’ll just… yeah,” he gestured behind him and then turned away, heading back over to the living room with heavy feet.

A few seconds, later, there was the quiet hissing of the door as it shut behind Tony.

“Ask me why I said it,” Tony entered the room with a few hours later, and Peter turned, watching him march up to Peter and fold his arms stubbornly.

Peter stopped, frowning, before he realised what Tony was talking about and tensed up. “Tony, just let it g-”

“Just ask me, Peter, dammit,” Tony said again, loud and a little jerky, like he wasn’t quite sure of how to hold himself, but was giving it his best shot anyway.

Peter bit his lip. He didn’t want to drag this out any further than it needed to be- 

“Peter,” Tony said, a little gentler this time, and Peter knew him well enough to know that there was an eye-roll he was trying to hold back on committing to as he looked down toward the couch, “can you let me explain myself? Please?”

Silence, again. Peter folded his arms. Tony mirrored him. 

They stared stubbornly at one another.

“Why did you say it?” Peter asked, quieter than he’d intended.

Tony clenched his jaw, and then with a little spasm, he opened his mouth. “I haven’t known a lot of people who’ve been genuine with their affection before. I’m an asshole and I push people away a lot because I don’t want them to hurt me. But…I can’t afford to push you away, or be too much of an asshole to you, because you’re a kid and you need me. So I’m just waiting for you to lose interest, instead. I can’t get rid of that sort of thought-process, but I am trying. Therapy and everything, it’s fucking gross, but… you need someone reliable. I need to be better. For you. Because- I - uh, I mean….”

Tony broke off, running a hand through his hair and huffing in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.  “You matter to me too. A lot. Uh- and I know Aunt May is your proper guardian and everything, but- but… well, I- uhm, I still consider you my own. Kid. Yeah. So…”

Tony shifted backward and forward on his feet, and he was actually blushing in embarrassment, which was a first. Peter just stared, a little shellshocked. He hadn’t been quite sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Right,” Tony choked out, nodding robotically and then taking a step back, “that was entertaining, shall we both just agree to never talk to one another ever again-”

He turned on his heel, doing his little speedwalk thing toward the elevator as Peter stared at his back. 

“Wait,” he blurted from the couch, getting unsteadily to his feet and then vaulting the couch, stumbling toward Tony, who had turned a little to face him.

Running up to him, Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulders and hugged. Tight. Tony stumbled a bit, and his hands wavered about in the air for a few seconds before settling lightly on Peter’s shoulder blades. “Right. Cool. Okay, hugs, then. That’s good. Healthy. Or so I’ve heard, anyway-”

“Thank you,” Peter said, breaking through the nervous ramble and squeezing Tony’s shoulders tightly, “that must have been hard.”

Tony shrugged “Eh, truth spell, you know-”

“Tony,” Peter rolled his eyes, letting go and pulling away so Tony could see it, “you really think I wasn’t counting down? The spell ended 15 minutes ago.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, and he pulled a face. “Shut up, it’s called being emotionally healthy.”

“If you think that’s emotionally healthy, you need a new therapist.”

Tony shoved him off with a muttered swear, and Peter laughed. “Are you going to come out of your workshop now?”


“Can I come into your workshop?”


“I’ll go get my shoes,” Peter said with a smile, patting Tony on the shoulder, “can you get the specs up for my suit? I have a few things I think might need tweaking.”

Tony sighed. “You’re a spoilt brat!” he called out as Peter turned back and went for the shoes that were strewn across the living room, but he pulled out his phone and started tapping at it as he turned back in the direction of the workshop, and Peter knew that the rest of the evening would pass as they worked on his suit.

He could think of worse ways to spend his weekend.

Simple Man

AN: The episode tonight destroyed me, and I need to get some things out…yup.  By the way, this one shot was hell to write because my computer kept freezing and refreshing the page while I was still working.  I lost hours of work several times.  As a result I spent probably just under 12, 11 hours writing this and stayed up all night.
You’re welcome for being a stubborn little author.

Summary:  The Reader reacts differently–rather motherly or sibling like, in fact–to everything going on with Jack when she gets the chance.

Characters: Reader, Jack Kline, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Mentioned), Lucifer (Mentioned)

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Relationship clearly strained at this point in time, not really seen in this chapter but hinted at)

Warnings: ANGST (But also fluff), A Little Language, Hurt/Comfort, self harm (What was in the episode), Pro Jack

Word Count: 3555

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BTS Reaction

REQUEST FROM: @ranmin10

Their girlfriend accidentally kicking them in the crotch


Namjoon hits the floor like a sack of bricks. “BABE WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! JESUS THAT HURT! I THINK I’M DYING!” Namjoon yells in agony. “SHIT! I’m so sorry Joonie! It was an accident I swear!” you say trying to comfort him. Let’s just say that the boys, who had witnessed the entire thing, were having a great time laughing at their leader’s.. unfortunate.. circumstance.

Originally posted by kookmint

Seokjin: (I couldn’t resist the GIF)

The yelp was instantaneous. Rushing over to his side you try to ask if there was anything you could do to make it better, there wasn’t. Seokjin slowly stands upright again “I’ll be okay, but why in God’s name were you doing spinning hook kicks?? Those things are lethal - especially at that height!”

Originally posted by yngissi


“Min Yoongi does not sulk thank you very much, so if you could get that idea out of your head… Also it really hurt - Just sayin’” Yoongi says trying to convince you that you were not witnessing the fully grown man have a not-so adult reaction. 

Originally posted by jimiyoong


Hoseok would try to play it off “It’s okay, I said I was fine Honey, it didn’t even hurt that much”. Let’s just say that the fact the his usual sunny smile was missing for the hour following, and if that wasn’t an indication to the pain you didn’t know what was. 

Originally posted by hobiga


“Babe I said I was sorry and it was an accident, stop sulking please it makes me sad” you say into the video chat. “I’m not sulking, I don’t know what you’re talking about” Jimin says pouting a bit at the end. “Really?! You’re not sulking… you do realise that you just pouted right?”

Originally posted by kpop-heaven-247


“I think you need to apologise” Taehyung says sitting up from where he was lying on the bed. “I did apologise, but if it makes you feel better, I truly am sorry” you say trying to make you boyfriend feel a little better. “Not to me! Yes you hurt me, but you need to apologise to him” you stare at him blankly for a second processing what he just said. “Uh… sorry?”

Originally posted by jiminarmy


“No I’m not okay. You kicked me in the BALLS!! I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but that is a VERY sensitive area!” Jungkook gets out eventually, the pain haven taken over. “Why weren’t you wearing a box?! We were doing kicking drills!” Jungkook groans at your words knowing that he could’ve prevented it, and that you had pointed it out.

Originally posted by jkookisdaddy

My Masterlist

Arrow Moves To Thursdays

Woke up to this article today and my TL looked like:

Arrow is moving to Thursday nights at 9 pm next fall for their sixth season. Reactions varied from chill to… not. Do I think this is a bad thing? No, I don’t. 

Allow me to preface this post by saying this: I’ve been talking about Arrow’s ratings and The CW network since I started this blog. Long before there was ever a ratings drop, my opinion was that The CW has a different business model than the other networks. If you cannot accept that The CW’s profitability is not based on live ratings, then this is not the blog for you. You don’t have to take my word for it. Stephen Amell confirmed it at HVFF Chicago. Mark Pedowitz has spoken about it.  I’ve done my research on this folks. They are structured differently than the Big Four. It’s just facts. (X) 

Yes, I was surprised by the move mostly because I had grown complacent about Arrow on Wednesday night. Wasn’t expecting it. I am no expert, but I’m happy to share my thoughts. I’ll talk about what I like about the move. Then we’ll shift to concerns.

Keep reading

Three Times Mulder and Scully Got Caught and One Time They Didn’t Care -- Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Rating: Explicit

AN: This was a very fun part to write! All of my love and gratitude to @piecesofscully for the lightning fast beta and just for being an all around wonderful person.


“God, Mulder, you really need to stop that.”

“Mmmm stop what?” Mulder asked as he continued to wind his tongue around her earlobe, his teeth gently tugging at her earring.

Scully closed her eyes, the hotel keycard missing the lock entirely as she leaned back into his chest, reveling at the feeling of his tongue in her ear and his hands pawing at her breasts. “You know exactly what you are doing, Agent Mulder. I’m having enough trouble with this key as it is, I really don’t need you doing, oh Jesus, that.”

He popped the top button of her shirt open as he leaned down and whispered a gentle laugh into her cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you polish off that much champagne, Agent Scully. As the acting supervisor of The X-Files division I have to say, I am highly disappointed.”

Giving up on the door, she dropped the keycard to the floor before reaching behind her.

“Hmmm, that certainly doesn’t feel like disappointment, and besides, Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI,” she sassed as she turned around and wound her arms around his neck putting her lips against his, “We are not currently on duty. A fact that I plan on continuing to celebrate with more alcohol and more you.” Scully punctuated her statement with a slow lick of his bottom lip.

“Oh, Scully, I don’t know.” He bent down to pick the card up off the floor, dragging his hands across the curves and planes of her body as he straightened back up. “Your level of inebriation is a cause of concern.” Mulder finally unlocked the door and held it open with an outstretched arm.

Scully lifted her eyebrow and her eyes to Mulder as she was forced to walk under his arm. “Seriously? Mulder, I might be a little tipsy, but I assure you, the keycard wasn’t working right. I am in no way drunk.”

After making sure the “Do Not Disturb” door hanger was firmly in place, he shut the door, flipped the lock and turned to her.  His eyes moved across her body languidly, taking their time to take in all of her before answering, “That is exactly why I am concerned.” Mulder crossed to the minibar, taking out tiny bottle after tiny bottle. “This is one, full, case-free, duty-free, FBI-free, weekend. Just you and me, Scully.”

Scully perched on the foot of the large king-sized bed and toed off her high heels, the shoes thumping to the carpet. “How did you manage to swing this, Mulder? How were you able to slide under Skinner’s radar? I thought for sure he would have us on another case this weekend.”

Ceasing his minibar raid, Mulder turned to her with a smirk. “Well, I may or may not have implied that we would be swamped with a backlog of purchase requisitions that need to be processed before being sent over to accounting –”

“Not entirely false.” Scully interrupted.

“And Skinner just so happens to be at a director’s conference all weekend, so there is no chance we are going to be called away on a case,” he explained, his smirk evolving into full-fledged smile. “Pick your poison, Scully.”

Toying with the buttons of her blouse she looked at him through her lashes before replying, “What do you think, Mulder?”

He sat back on his heels and regarded her, staring at her for a beat before answering. “You seem like a strictly wine and champagne girl. Maybe the occasional beer.”

“What would you do if I requested that bottle of Patrón in your hand?”

Keep reading

Every Me And Every You - One

Spencer Reid x Reader

Smutty smut smut once it gets going…..Like seriously….

You were feeling uncomfortable. Very much so in fact. Your latest case had just finished and you were driving home.

You and your colleague, Dr Spencer Reid lived in the same direction so often car pooled together, and today was one of those occasions. Normally the journey home would be filled with chat about the latest case, or your plans for the weekend. Today was different. The latest case which had just wrapped had involved a string of murders taking place within the BDSM community. And that had involved a fair amount of research being done into that lifestyle.

Or at least it should have done. A certain member of the team though had already known a lot about that lifestyle, and had reeled off a lot of facts, figures and comments about it which had meant you hadn’t had to that much research.

And that team member was sitting next to you in the car.

You were curious. Something about the way the facts had rolled of his tongue, the sheer confidence in which he talked about it, made you wonder.

Wonder if this was something he’d simply read about or whether it was something he’d actually experienced.

You’d never experimented with that type of play before, never had a partner who you felt comfortable talking about it with. But since you’d watched the Maggie Gyllenhal film Secretary when you were 17, there was something….. intriguing about it. Something interesting….. and hearing Spencer talk the way he had, had kind of turned you on a bit. More than a bit in fact. It was making you look at him in a whole new light.

“You’re very quiet tonight Y/N,” your companion commented from his seat.

“Am I?” You knew you were, your mind was on other things. Specifically him.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hmmmm, yeah it is.”

“Okay. It’s just not like you to be this quiet.” He went back to looking out of the window, surveying the scenery he’d seen a thousand times.

You really wanted to know. To know if the information he knew, was just from reading and research or whether it was from something else.

But did you want to know enough to actually ask him?

Yep. You did.

You knew Spencer well enough, you were friends after all. He’d probably just laugh at your question, tell you no, it was just from reading, and then you could resume being normal with him, your curiosity quenched.

“Spencer. Don’t laugh okay. But… erm, you knew a hell of a lot about the BDSM scene. More than I think any of us were expecting you to know.” You glanced at him, checking for his reaction.

He didn’t react. At all. And he was very quiet for a few minutes, so much so that you’d thought he maybe hadn’t heard you. He did have a habit of zoning out sometimes.


You glanced over again. The corners of his lips twitched up slightly and he turned to you.

“You want to know if that’s something I’ve tried right? Or if it’s just something I’ve read. Did you ask Rossi the same question before you left?”

Agent David Rossi had had his own comments to add to Spencer’s. But he openly admitted to having had experimented with it when he was in college. Reid hadn’t given any indication of how he’d garnered his knowledge.

“I didn’t ask Rossi, no.”

“So are you asking me for a specific reason, Agent Y/N?” His face was still straight, giving you no indication of how he was taking your question.

“Honestly, because you don’t seem the type.” You winced at your own words. You should know better than anyone not to judge a book by its cover. Working for the FBI had taught you that much.

“I don’t seem the type….Well it takes all sorts Y/N. Each and every one of us could be hiding secrets,” he replied, his tone dry and cool.

Did that mean? Had he? Your hands gripped the steering wheel as you came to a stop at some traffic lights.

“If we’re talking about stereotypes then you don’t exactly give off the impression that this is something you’re into either, Y/N.”

Touche, Dr Reid. You kept quiet, not sure now how to proceed with this conversation. It wasn’t going the way you’d expected. You’d expected him to laugh and tell you that he’d been curious with all of the hype from Fifty Shades and had simply read up on it. He’d probably be able read every book written on the subject within a week.

“So are you….. into it?” Spencer asked.

“I asked you first.” Oh this was not going how you’d expected it to go at all.

“Technically you didn’t. But assuming this conversation goes no further than between us, I’ll answer.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” No one else in the team would believe you anyway.

Spencer mirrored your thoughts. “I doubt the others would believe you anyway. The answer is yes. It’s something I’ve experienced. And it’s something I enjoy.”

You weren’t sure whether this was the answer you’d secretly been hoping to hear or not. Either way you were still shocked. And you were glad you’d been at a stop light.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Agent Y/N. A gaping mouth can be good for some things, but not right here.”

You turned to look at him incredulously. What the hell!?

“You might want to drive, the lights turned green ten seconds ago.”

Shit. You hit the gas, driving onwards, unsure what to say.

“So, your turn. Is it something you’re into? You asked me for a reason. What you say doesn’t go beyond us.”

When you spoke it was barely above a whisper, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know. But you’re curious right? You’ve been way too quiet on this case and not your usual self.”

“Yes, I’m curious.” Your voice gained a bit more power and strength.

“So ask. What do you want to know? I’ll tell you. I trust you to be discreet. If you don’t ask, you’re not likely to get the answers.”

Now was your chance. Ask the questions you’d wanted to ask the Dominants and submissive’s you’d had to interview. But what to ask?

“What do you actually do?”

“Me, personally. Or Dominants in general. Because essentially, it’s in the name. We dominate. But it does drill down onto a fair few levels depending on the relationship you have with a sub.”

He was talking about it the way he would talk to you about movies or books he liked. With confidence and knowledge. It didn’t bother him you asking him. This was not the Spencer Reid that got flustered when Garcia flirted with him, this was someone else.

“Okay, well you personally.”

“No judgement?” he asked you and you shook your head. You wouldn’t judge him. You couldn’t. Or at least you didn’t think you could.

“Okay so depending on what’s been agreed, we might be playing out a certain scenario. I’m sure you’re aware of the classic role playing fantasies: Master and servant, Professor and student, Boss and employee.”

“Never FBI Agent and unsub then?” you interrupted him.

“No. I keep my work totally separate from that. Anyway, so it simply could be a scenario that’s acted out. And generally it will go that the submissive has displeased their Master and needs to be punished in some shape or form. So I punish them.”

Dr Spencer Reid punishing someone. Jesus fucking christ.

“Does it always end in sex?”

“Nope. That’s not what it’s all about. Some people derive pleasure from simply giving or receiving the punishment during the scene. And that’s enough to get them off, to make them feel the high or release you’d get from sex. Other times….. Other times intercourse is part of the scene. And other times it may come after. Sometimes there’s very little role play involved and it may be that the submissive just wants to be tied up and played with. Generally that WILL end with intercourse.”

“Played with?”

“Blindfolded, gagged, spanked. Penetrated vaginally or anally with objects other than a penis. Whipped. Flogged. Clamped. Scratched….. Your jaw’s slack again Y/N.”

You closed your mouth and then opened it again to speak. You closed it again quickly.

“Ask it, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat, “Okay. And you do all of this? Spanking and whipping someone?” You voice went up an octave.

“Yes, if someone wants me to.”

“But…. Why?”

“Because I enjoy it. And so do my partners. I can’t give you an exact reason why other than that I find it pleasurable.”

“But essentially you’re hurting someone?”

“Only because they’re asking me to. It’s consensual and there’s terms. And there’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. It’s not all pain either. Sometimes all my partner will want is to be bound and blindfolded. The simple removal of their sight and not being able to move enhances their other sensations and it can lead to very intense orgasms.”


Oh indeed.

“So, I have a question for you Agent Y/N. You say you’re curious. Why exactly? Have you seen or watched something that’s made you curious?”

You signalled onto Spencer’s street, pulling up outside his apartment building.

“Erm… Yes. Years ago. I saw something that made me wonder if I’d enjoy it or not.”

Why were you telling him this?

“And you’ve never explored it?”


“But you’ve wanted to?”

“Erm…. I think so.”

He unbuckled his seat belt and picked his messenger bag up from the footwell.

“Have a serious think about whether you just think you want to explore it and whether you actually want to explore it. It can be very scary and very daunting. It’s something you have to go into with someone you trust completely and know will respect you and your boundaries.”

“I trust you!” you blurted out, clamping your hand over your mouth as soon as the words left.

Spencer’s eyes shot to your face studying it wordlessly for a few moments.

“Y/N. Go home and think very long and very hard about what you’ve just said and implied. This isn’t something you should rush into and definitely not with a co-worker.” He went to get out of this car but you stopped him.

“But would you though?”

“If you’re asking me whether I’d show you part of my world, then yes. If you were sure it was what you wanted and you could be certain that you wouldn’t let this interfere with our working relationship. But we’re not making this decision now. Go home Y/N. We’ve got a few days off work. Think about things and I can send you some links if you like.”

“Yes. Please. Send them.”

He nodded and slid out of the car, turning and waving goodbye to you when he reached the steps of his apartment block.

As you pulled away you still couldn’t quite believe the road that conversation had taken.

And you didn’t know whether to carry on walking down that road, or to turn and run for the hills.

@ the Undertale fandom

Can you please stop attacking my good friend Nelly? She’s a really good artist and just wants to do what she wants to do. Believe it or not she does have more than one interest that isn’t Undertale. And you guys attacking our fandom and what we like is beyond petty.

I mean, jesus christ you’re the Undertale fandom! You guys are always complaining about how people make fun of your fandom and call you cringy. If you really want that respect how about not attacking other smaller fandoms? All you are doing is making your fandom look even more pathetic.

Look, I’m not gonna act like the Ninjago fandom is a great fandom either. Believe me, we really suck sometimes. Some of us really love to start shipping wars, and some of us take political correctness WAY too far.

If you guys were calling us out for that I would understand, but this is over harassing a good and well known contributor (and my personal friend) to our fandom that we appreciate. And we’re not going to stand by and watch you guys do this to her.

And before you start typing away in the comments, yes. I am perfectly aware that the Undertale fandom is a big place, and it probably is a small part of the fandom that’s responsible for this. But it still doesn’t change the fact that you are still the fandom that’s hosting this bullshit. If you really want your fandom to be a nice place, then I recommend you go and support or apologize to @nelly-the-dog

thank you for reading and sorry for making a fuss and causing drama.


The Ninjago fandom

How the Hell Are You this High?

Member: Joshua

Genre: ANGST, fluff, smut

Word Count: 10,983

Part 1 / Part 2

The car horn blared out as Joshua smashed his head against the driving wheel. He groaned at the pain crackling at the front of his skull and slowly sat back up. A hand carded through his freshly dyed hair and his eyes scanned the parking lot, watching other students climbing out of their own cars and walking towards the school with their friends. A lump formed in Joshua’s throat. He had friends of course, but none of which he could talk to freely about his problems. His best friend Jeonghan moved away only two years before. His girlfriend broke up with him only two months ago. Joshua hasn’t been the same ever since. He gripped on the steering wheel and contemplated if he should just go home and lie in the comfort of his bed.

The sound of his phone buzzing brought Joshua back to his senses. He picked his phone up from the passenger seat and stared down at the message sent to him.

Mingyu: well? did u go in yet? (7:46)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Both my mother and my uncle are Christians and I have grown up in the church my entire life, but I have found none of it convincing enough to consider Christianity myself I find it all to be a bunch of emotional nonsense, and while I don’t think there is anything wrong with people believing it, because I have seen how it comforts my mother, I just don’t see how there is any logic to it. My uncle told me that there is actually a lot of scientific and historical evidence to back Christianity up1/2

such as proof that some of the crazy stories that happened in the Bible actually happened and that Jesus was a real person, and did do all the things the Bible claimed he did. Can you back his claim up? 2/2

I would like to apologize if my earlier ask came off sounding rude, I have been told I can be a bit blunt and insensitive, I am merely curious and did not mean to sound rude when I said I found Christianity to be a bunch of emotional nonsense. I really am curious about the validity of Christianity.

No worries, friend! I am fully aware of how crazy Christianity sounds. People rising from the dead? Walking on water? Impenetrable cities falling because a bunch of people walked in circles? Trust me, I get how crazy Christianity sounds. I wouldn’t believe it without proof either.

First let’s start with what is the point of Christianity? Is it a feel-good religion? No, it’s not. If I simply wanted a place to feel good about myself, I would go over to the New Age movement or Hinduism. The Bible tells me I’m a sinner and I deserve to burn in eternal suffering for my actions. There’s not much to feel good about that there. Actually, the Bible tells me that even – or rather, especially – as a Christian I should expect trial and tribulation in this life. People die every day for their faith in Jesus. Does that sound like a feel-good religion? If that was all there was to Christianity, you had better believe I would want nothing to do with it.

So then what is the point of Christianity? The point is that I need God. The Bible proves to me that I am a depraved sinner. Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” I have broken God’s law. I have lied, I have stolen, I have hated (which God says is murder of the heart). God, as a just judge, cannot let wrongs go unpunished. A good judge wouldn’t let a lying, thieving, murderer go free without paying for their crimes, and no amount of good can change the fact that a crime has been committed. God is so perfect, that even the smallest offense cannot go unpunished. What I deserve, what we all deserve, is death which is eternity in Hell. Still depressing, I know. Keep tracking with me.

Because no amount of good works can save me, because I can’t earn my salvation, because I am destitute and dead in my sins, Jesus died to save me. He took my punishment, and died a horrible death on a cross so that I could have eternal life. I was a sinner, an enemy of God, but through Jesus’ sacrifice I can have a relationship with God. John 3:16 says, “ For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

Now how do we know all of that is true? How do we know the Bible is true? I am so very glad you asked!

God says this, in Jeremiah 29:13, “And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” There is an overwhelming amount of evidence for the Bible if you look, and we’re going to take a look at just a few aspects of proof.

Did you know that the Bible is the most historically accurate ancient book we have? From the events that took place, to the people mentioned, to the duplication of manuscripts, and the corroboration of witnesses, the preservation of history that we have within the Bible exceeds every other source of ancient documentation by a landslide. And yes, Jesus was absolutely a real person!

I link to this video often, but I’m going to do it again because I really love it. It’s simple, yet brilliant. Definitely worth the watch. It’ll take you more step-by-step through how we know the Bible can be trusted on a historical level by comparing it to internal and external sources.

Now let’s talk about some crazy stories. One of my favorites is Jericho, the impenetrable city that the Israelites took when its walls fell down. Archeologists revealed some rather interesting anomalies when they excavated the great city. A few of the highlights include a single section of wall still standing (Rahab’s house was spared, according to the Bible), grain that was left (a valuable prize that would have normally been saved for use, but God told the Israelites to leave it behind), and the fact that the walls fell outward (in turn creating a ramp for the Israelites to ascend into the city). These are all things that, under normal circumstances, simply don’t add up from a historical and archeological perspective. You can read more about Jericho here.

We could talk about the flood for an awful long time, but I’ll just link you to this post where I’ve already began to expound on some of the geological and scientific evidence that supports the Bible (DID I MENTION DINOSAURS).

 Creation in general is just an AMAZING way we see God at work. Just the fact that you exist is a miracle. Your brain, your eyes, your heart, your lungs, your nervous system, your thoughts… none of which the complexity of such has ever been duplicated. You are a marvel. Did you know that the very glue that holds you together is shaped like a cross? Laminin is a microscopic building block essential to your being, it binds you together, and it looks like this:

Now, just for a moment imagine there is a God who loves you, who made you with the utmost care and attention. Who, before you were born, knew the colour of your eyes and the sound of your laugh, the shape of your hands and every one of your favorite foods. Then, God, who formed you, put His mark on you, His thumbprint, just to say, “This is my beautiful creation.”

You can call it coincidence, sure, but just how many times can you call something a coincidence? Eventually a pattern emerges. Little or big, things start adding up, and the more we explore the world we live in, the more we see that it points us right back to a divine Creator.

 These are just a few pieces of evidence, this is just the tip of the iceberg. There is SO much more to find if you look for it. Like the hundreds of prophesies Jesus fulfilled while he was alive, written centuries before His birth. Or the things written about in the Bible that modern science didn’t recognize until much, much later. I believe in God because everything I have ever seen brings me right back to Him. The Bible has proven itself to be authentic, excelling every test put to it. The world simply cannot provide answers like the Bible can, there is no substitute for the truth.

the walking dead starters ( s7ep11.)


  • “ please. please don’t.”
  • “ please, god, no.”
  • “ i hate this. please!”
  • “ welcome home, haircut.”
  • “ there’s more at the library. a lot more.”
  • “ you… you have a library?”
  • “ s/he escaped?”
  • “ you know where s/he is?”
  • “ no. i’d tell you if i did.”
  • “ th-this’ll be satisfactory.”
  • “ you hungry?”
  • “ i’ll get you something. what do you want?”
  • “ what do i want?”
  • “ anything? really, anything i want?”
  • “ sure, whatever.”
  • “ dude, yes, you can have anything. what do you want?”
  • “ can i have lobster?”
  • “ no, you can’t have lobster.”
  • “ what the hell do you think this is?”
  • “ do you have canned pasta and tomato sauce?”
  • “ you want orange-y or red?”
  • “ i like pickles.”
  • “ number 42 is a coding system for persons here?”
  • “ okay, i’ll be back in ten.
  • “ enjoy your new place.”
  • “ good mornin’ sunshine.”
  • “ is it just as cozy as you remember?”
  • “ you spent a long time at the wrong side of the door.”
  • “ so let’s talk about now.”
  • “ you know anything about that, ___?”
  • “ i gotta tell you, that is one hell of a coincidence.”
  • “ was it you?”
  • “ did it work the other way around? you were supposed to break him/her. did s/he break you?”
  • “ i mean, let’s face it. you’ve got some pretty legitimate grievances.”
  • “ you change your stripes on me, ___?”
  • “ you startin’ to see things different?”
  • “ after all this… before and after… hell, after everything… who are you, ___?”
  • “so, do you think you know where ___ went?”
  • “ bring him/her back. sort it out.”
  • “ stitch him/her up. fix what you can fix.”
  • “ you don’t think s/he did it?”
  • “ you think s/he did?”
  • “ you were just beaten and thrown in a cell. unfairly, if you ask me.”
  • “ i like to think that i do.”
  • “ that’s exactly the kind of person who really isn’t…. expected to be around anymore.”
  • “ just trying to help.”
  • “ barber. might be able to kill that thing on your head.”
  • “ you’re one of us now, not them.”
  • “ they eat shit, we eat good.”
  • “ must be your lucky day, ___.”
  • “ are these homemade?”
  • “ that’s some good diy stuff there.”
  • “ no – no thank you.”
  • “ you want something, you take it, ___.”
  • “ there s/he is! wo/man of the hour!”
  • “ come on over here, big fella.”
  • “ don’t be rude asshole. say hello.”
  • “ … h-h-hello.”
  • “ you got a name, asshole?”
  • “ you see this right here? you might have to get real close.”
  • “ now, under normal circumstances, i’d be showing you that real close over and over again.”
  • “ but, see, all i really want to know is if you are a smarty-pants.”
  • “ you know things?”
  • “ answer the question.”
  • “ i- i am indeed a smarty-pants.”
  • “ even though my memory is not considered eidetic, i don’t skim and i don’t scrimp.”
  • “ if knowledge is dropped, i do indeed pick it up.”
  • “ oh, you really are just some asshole.”
  • “ n-no, i’m not.”
  • “ fire, with uh… you know… fire.”
  • “ uh, huh. all right, then, dr. smarty-pants. you ought to be able to crack this without breaking a sweat.”
  • “ how do we keep them on their feet?”
  • “ you already possess the means to resolve your issue.”
  • “ god damn! if that ain’t the coolest thing i’ve ever heard in my life!”
  • “ not only is that practical, it is just bad-ass!”
  • “ look at you, dr. smarty-pants.”
  • “ oh, their loss, our gain.”
  • “ i feel like i need to give you some kind of signing bonus here.”
  • “ uh, w- well, i wa- i was gifted these pickles.”
  • “ now, i don’t think i have to worry about this, but who knows how truly smart you are?”
  • “ that is a grave no-no.”
  • “ i wouldn’t know anything about that.”
  • “ what does dr. smarty-pants say to his/her new bestest friend in the whole wide world?”
  • “ thank you. fully, completely, sincerely, seriously: thank you.”
  • “ why don’t you go have some fun?”
  • “ what the hell am i even looking at?”
  • “ maybe you should take it easy, ___?”
  • “ maybe i shouldn’t.”
  • “ uh, we could play something else. warlords? it’s four players and quite the hoot.”
  • “ whatever you want. this is your night.”
  • “ do you want a massage?”
  • “ while i appreciate the gesture, and your commitment to your assigned objective, i am fully aware that you are not here this evening of your own volition.”
  • “ video games are all about me showing you a fun time.”
  • “ would you care for more microwave popcorn?”
  • “ hey, just because this was ___’s idea doesn’t mean that i don’t want to be here.”
  • “ i’d be down with just having an intelligent conversation.”
  • “ well… i suppose a conversation would be acceptable under the current circumstance.”
  • “ what would you like to talk about?”
  • “ i could talk about that shit all night.”
  • “ in all likelihood, even if i could, it would probably escape your comprehension.”
  • “ did s/he just insult us?”
  • “ it was not a dis, it was simply a statement of fact.”
  • “ my intelligence has been objectively measured.”
  • “ so, what, are you one of those guys who can make a bomb out of bleach and a toothpick or something?”
  • “ serious as sepsis.”
  • “ so stupid.”
  • “ i’m hoping to illustrate the opposite.”
  • “ did you just make helium out of toilet stuff?”
  • “ it’s cool. we’re good.”
  • “ hey, relax. you’re one of us.”
  • “ can you please just show me some good shit?”
  • “ i’m gonna light this candle.”
  • “ no, i mean, i’m gonna light this candle.”
  • “ i was given to understand that last night’s shinny was supposed to be a singular incident.”
  • “ i need your help.”
  • “ you aren’t afforded any… mental-health services?”
  • “ that would be wildly irresponsible.”
  • “ we’ll handle that part.”
  • “ look, i know that this is crazy, and that you barely know me.”
  • “ i can tell that you are a good person. there’s not many of those left.”
  • “ truth of the matter is i’m not good. i’m not lawful, neutral or chaotic, none of the above.”
  • “ are you saying you can’t do it?”
  • “ lack of ability is not the problem here.”
  • “ you are good, ___. you have to be.”
  • “ you kidding?”
  • “ hey, the line’s a line. what, they don’t have ’em where you come from?”
  • “ you don’t know how they work?”
  • “ which means you report directly to my ass.”
  • “ i didn’t know. we just – we get so many new faces, i didn’t…”
  • “ i don’t even know what you call this. i’m gonna call it a gremblygunk.”
  • “ where is s/he?”
  • “ i killed her/him.”
  • “ s/he ran away from me right into a mess of dead ones so, i, uh… made it quick.”
  • “ it still hurts.”
  • “ feels better with a bandage.”
  • “ i wasn’t talking about that.”
  • “ oh, we’ve all done things.”
  • “ before we got here. before we understood, we were cowards about it.”
  • “ we don’t- we don’t get to have big hearts. remember that.”
  • “ wh- what is this?”
  • “ you are gonna want to pay close attention to this.”
  • “ i – i didn’t do anything.”
  • “ i found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk.”
  • “ i don- i don’t know what that is.”
  • “ you… left the door open and let my puppy out.”
  • “ that is some weaselly shit right there.”
  • “ oh, s/he ran? you know why s/he ran?! because s/he knew i would blame her/him, which i did.”
  • “ it’s not true. __, s/he’s lying about it. i would never do it.”
  • “ why? why? why would s/he do that?”
  • “ why would s/he intentionally try to hurt you?”
  • “ so, what’s s/he gonna get out of this?”
  • “ it worked before, and it worked now.”
  • “ ain’t that right, ___?”
  • “ please, please, please! oh, jesus, don’t burn me. please! no…!”
  • “ no, no, please! no! no!”
  • “ now, you know i hate this shit.”
  • “ just tell me you did it and that you’re sorry and i won’t have to do this.”
  • “ yes– yes, i did it. all of it. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
  • “ please… i’m sorry. please. i’m sorry.”
  • “ that’s all you had to say.”
  • “ i trust you, ___. never should’ve doubted ya.”
  • “ i’m sorry.”
  • “ ice cold! i love it.”
  • “ are you all right?”
  • “ better than that.”
  • “ you can call next but it might be a while.”
  • “ i did. but you can’t have ‘em.”
  • “ do not insult my intelligence.”
  • “ said pills aren’t for __, said pills are for __. that’s why you wanted two.”
  • “ didn’t s/he kill your friends?”
  • “ turnabout and all that.”
  • “ you’re replaceable to him/her. i, on the other hand, am not.”
  • “ you’re a coward.”
  • “ that is a correct assessment.”
  • “ may i come in?”
  • “ so, how you liking it here?”
  • “ are we doing right by dr. smarty-pants?”
  • “ it’s all right. i get it.”
  • “ i know how hard it can be to accept change to get on the right team.”
  • “ i need you to understand something. i do not make this invitation to anyone. and i sure as shit do not make it lightly.”
  • “ hey… hey! you don’t need to be scared anymore.”
  • “ you don’t need to be scared. you just need to answer me one question. and it’s a big one.”
  • “ hey, be careful with that.”
  • “ hey, you want to get burnt by molten metal? ‘cause that’s exactly how you get burnt by molten metal.”
  • “ you on board?”
  • “ i am. just like you.”
Gradence/Gravebone/Gredence/Graves x Credence Fic Rec list

Originally posted by illilis

WARNING: most if not all of these stories have some to a lot of smut, possibly dub-con and/or non-con and/or questionable situations and consent. please be aware, and proceed with caution. also lots of spoilers. these are rec’s and reviews beyond the flailing sorts of comments i leave on the actual fics so yes that too.

First off I must mention the fact that when I left the theater after seeing the movie for the first time, the one thing I knew I wanted was some kind of consensual BDSM stuffs, and THIS series is bringing that to the extreme. I’ve dabbled and I’m still learning, the shit I include in my writing is pretty damn tame but this series is not, and I LOVE it. it’s a Modern AU where Credence and Graves are eventually living the scene 24/7 and it’s intense but so so so good.

Three parts currently:

Notes on a Lifestyle

Anima Mea


author is @clutchhedonist on tumblr too!

Next we have Show Me

The fic you knew was going to ensue after the healing scene and its frankly dreamy and perfect and I love it so much but its Credence and Grindelwald!Graves, so if that’s problematic, you know to avoid.

and next we have more sin aka smut that’s just short of a plot but you know what? that’s ok. Some of us just needed smut after all that goddamned sexual tension, so here, enjoy some

Freedom (Bound and Restricted) –great name btw.

also technically part of a series, and it is Credence and Grindelwald!Graves

and at long last we have an AU where Credence ends up finding the Real!Graves and he’s a bit of an asshole and you know what? it works damn well.

Its also a glorious 7k words and there is smut too so…. Yeah.

Such as is common to Man

a story I have been long awaiting and am breaking my ‘I never read WIP’s’ USUALLY rule, the Sugar Daddy AU and its of course modern and just, well, what it says.

What Shines Through

also go follow this creature on tumblr because just…do it.


next up is the newest of the A/B/O stories, only 2 of which I have ever read, bc frankly its not usually my cup o’tea, but HOT DAMN for this ship I’ll take anything with smut that’s not too non-con or dub-con so yeah.

this is a lil confusing bc it is Real!Graves and Credence, but Grindelwald is sort of behind the scenes pulling the strings.

The Mating Habits of American Wizards

HERE is the first A/B/O story I read and goddamn it it’s a WIP but its so damn filthy and good im along for the sinful ass ride.

Pin me and mount me like a butterfly –YET ANOTHER PERFECT TITLE Hella

literally i was getting blushy reading this, and I aint no innocent little virgin, this story is just so….uh, well, when I saw the update posted lets just say I didn’t walk I ran to it.

also follow here @grindlywindlywald

now for something a bit darker, this story is a story with daddy!kink but its Grindy!graves and Credence and slightly dub-con so be ware.

I was just so thirsty for daddy!kink after usually seeing the only stories tagged that way are in RUSSIAN WHICH I CANNOT SPEAK OF COURSE so then I saw this and holy shit.


THIS story I just read today, after having seen the prompt sort of floating around the tag, and it is just great, short but good. I always want more of course because like how could I not?

So Graves is summoned to Credence before he’s found the Obscurus, mostly by accident. And yeah its fun.

Caught so neatly, as a bird in a net


this next story is one of my legit favorites I think ive read it about ten times and its just ugh, for those who wanted a non!innocent/virginal Credence and Graves first time, and HELLA he is a bit of a hoe but he’s fucking sweet and adorable so its FIIINE.

Til Tomorrow Comes

this needs a sequel like soon pls but if not its ok ill survive

(I wont)

THIS story I found myself reading at my car place awaiting the checkup, and let me tell you, reading smut for these two in public is still a challenge to keep a poker face, esp this little bit of fluff which sounds strange considering the plot-ish, its Prostitute!Credence and its great.

Fill My Head With Dreams

here’s a bit more filthy sin before we get to my ALL TIME FAVE FIC, and it gets DARK ish at the end so watchout. Grindle!graves x Credence.

Showersex. Because duhhh.

I want Colin Farrell naked in a shower with Ezra on his knees so this is a close second.

Wipe you clean with dirty hands


THE LORDS WORK. Let me tell you a bit about this story. I have lived a life full of oppressive religion and plenty of gaslighting bullshit, and this story contains lots of that, but with plenty of angstyfluffysmut and a happy ending (SPOILER) to make it worth it, to me, so theres that.

This is also my fave trope of young innocent Credence being (accidentally) corrupted by hot smexy older Graves and its just bomb as fuck.


Cause yeah.

Time for your come to jesus moment. More like come to graves and come for graves moments amiright?

The Lord’s Work

this concludes my horribly organized and off the cuff list, and it is not as complete as it should be, I’ll prolly end up updating it sometime soon.

Enjoy the sinbin my lovelies!

5 Times Scully Said “What the Fuck, Mulder.”  And one time... he struck back.

@wtfmulder threw down the gauntlet.

They’ve been on exactly two cases together and yet, she’s been practically naked in front of him, he’s told her his life story, and she’s managed to save him from certain death in a military installation.  Things one does when they’ve just met, right?

Keep reading

I’m drawn to you

Summary: Magnus Chase would never have expected to have a secret admirer, much less one that sends him beautiful drawing and sketches with each letter, but here he is.

Yes, I needed to make the chapter a bad pun, you know how I am. And yes, I did name Magnus’s transphobic teacher after one of mine, though I don’t know how she would have reacted to a trans student (then again, she did say gay people asking for marriage equality was ‘going too far’ so yeah). Anyway, enough with stupid teachers, on with the story! Be glad I don’t pay attention in algebra because that’s where I thought of this.

Magnus found the first note sometime around the middle of October.

He and the rest of his friends – Mallory, T.J, Halfborn and Sam – were going to go to Halfborn’s house after school ended for a group study session. (Meaning they would try to work on their assignments, eats lots of snacks and gossip like bored housewives.) Sam’s elusive half-sister, Alex, wasn’t been able to make it and Magnus would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He had seen Alex around Sam before a few times and he had talked to her even less than that, but she was undeniably one of the most attractive people Magnus had ever seen and he really wanted to talk to her more. His friends teased him that he stared at Alex whenever they were in the same room together, which might have been true, but Magnus would like to keep his dignity about it.

Anyway, they were supposed to pile up inside Halfborn’s old truck after school to go to his house, but they were half way to the car when Magnus remembered he had a left one of his books at class.

“Do you need to get it?” Mallory asked, her shoulders slumping at the thought of having to go all the way back to Magnus’s English class to get it.

“Yeah I do, that’s what the assignment I have is on.” As much as Magnus disliked Miss. Marlene – she keeps getting his pronouns and name wrong, despite him telling her every time – he didn’t need any more reasons for her to be after him, and not doing an assignment would definitely put him in her black list (more so than he already is). “Go ahead and go to the car, I’ll be back quickly.”

“Okay, just hurry back!” Mallory yelled after him. “If you’re too late we’ll leave you here!”

Ah, isn’t friendship amazing?

Magnus run to the English classroom as quickly as he could. He made it there surprisingly quickly, since the corridors were devoid of students. (There was just something about an empty school that was really creepy.) Magnus walked into the classroom heaving, reminded once again why he wasn’t in any sports’ teams. He really wasn’t the sports type anyway, unlike a lot of his friends, and running in his binder wasn’t the best.

His book was waiting for him on his desk near the back of the class. Nobody had taken it, which Magnus was thankful for; he didn’t even want to think what explaining that to Miss. Marlene would be like, though nobody would want a boring English book anyway. He was about to pick it up and shove it into his backpack when he noticed a paper sticking out of it.

Weird, I don’t think I put that there.

After checking again to make sure this was his book, Magnus pulled the paper out. What he saw when he did was an honestly mind-blowing sketch of a boy with his head resting boredly on his hand while he read a book. It wasn’t any boy either. It was him.

Magnus wasn’t sure whether he should admire the artist’s skill (they had made him look attractive, that was quite a fit) or be creeped out over the fact somebody had left him a drawing of himself inside one of his books. Maybe a bit of both was fine.

He examined the sketch more, completely baffled by how somebody could even begin to draw something like this, how they were able to turn a bunch of lines into something that looked this good even with him as the subject matter. Wondering who had drawn this, Magnus turned the paper to see if the artist had left their name on the back. They hadn’t, but they had left a note.

Dear Magnus,

I know this looks creepy.

Well, at least they’re self aware, Magnus thought and kept reading the short letter.

Trust me, I know it does. Some stranger leaves a sketch of you and a letter inside one of your books. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t read this letter. Actually, don’t read the rest, you’ll save me a lot of trouble. I didn’t want to do this anyway, my sister forced me to, and if writing you a weird love letter will get her off my back I’m willing to do anything.

So, yeah, this is a love letter. I have a crush on you. There, I said it. And I know what you’re thinking, who writes their crushes love letters in this day and age? Me, apparently. My sister was trying to convince me to do the “sensible” thing and talk to you and ask you out, but I joked that I’d rather write you a cringy love letter than actually have to talk to you and inevitably get rejected, so she kept nagging me until I finally did it. I should have never mentioned it to her in the first place, but she sees you sketching a boy in your notes and immediately wants all the details. Sisters, right? Anyway, yeah, I have a humongous crush on you and my sister can be very persistent.

You probably won’t do it, but she’s standing over me right now telling me to write this, so if you want t write back (which, again, you probably won’t do)leave your letter in that big dusty red dictionary in the Spanish classroom. Nobody touches that thing.

With love,

Your secret admirer.

P.S. I can’t believe I just wrote that, Jesus fuck.

By the time Magnus finished the letter, he was smiling at the stranger’s salty, sarcastic remarks for their sister. Still, even his amusement couldn’t stop him from reading the letter again two times, even then he still couldn’t understand how it was real.

Someone had a crush on him. On him, of all people. How was that possible? He wasn’t exactly the most handsome or popular guy in school, he was pretty far from that, honestly. There were a ton more people you could get a crush on, so why him of all people?

Still, even if he didn’t understand it, he couldn’t deny the warm feeling the spread through him as his face flushed red. Somebody had a crush on him and the thought was extremely flattering, especially with whoever his secret admirer was clearly seeing him as a boy and nothing else.

Magnus was brought out of his daze when his phone started vibrating in his pocket as one of his friends called him to ask where he was.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming, just a minute!” Magnus said into the phone as he shoved the book and the letter inside his backpack and sprinted to the parking lot.


Alex didn’t know what made him check. He knew there wouldn’t be a response, why would somebody reply to some random stranger’s love letter, especially when said letter came along with a drawing of you? (Alex still can’t believe he sent Magnus one of them. He cringed and blushed just thinking about it.) (And yes, he had drawn Magnus more than once. You say he’s head over heels, he says he was just practicing.)

So yeah, his mind knew it that there wouldn’t be a response, but he still checked the old dictionary. Maybe a part of him hoped there would be a letter waiting for him, but he did his best to squash that part down. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Magnus wouldn’t write back to him and Alex’s letter would probably get thrown in the trash, maybe after getting a laugh out of it with his friends. Alex just didn’t understand why Sam insisted he wrote it.

The bell rang and everybody spilled out of the Spanish classroom, eager to be anywhere else but here. Alex lingered around more, pretending to be putting his books away as everybody, even the teacher, went away. There was no one in the room by the time he put his sketchbook away. Alex already knew Spanish, he was only taking the class because he figured it would be easy, and it was, so he used the period to sit in the back and sketch to his heart’s content.

With no one left to see him, Alex took the old dictionary from the bookcase and skimmed through it boredly. This was a waste of time, but he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else unless he did this – wait, what was that?

Curiously, Alex went back to the part where the book’s pages had a small gap. It couldn’t be…

But sure enough, there, between alphabetized Spanish words, was a folded piece of paper. With his stupid heart doing summersaults inside his chest, Alex pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

Dear secret admirer,

Thank you a lot for your letter, though I’m glad you understand it looked a bit creepy at first.

Alex was split between smiling like a doofus because he had gotten a response and slapping himself because of course that drawing was creepy, why the hell did you send it?

I mean, I’m not complaining, it was a really good drawing, you have some serious talent if you can make me look good. Which I guess means I should address the elephant in the room, being the fact that you have a crush on me? How? Honestly, I’m flattered, but I can’t see why you would have a crush on me of all people. I don’t think I’m exactly the most crushable person around. But hey, um, thanks.

Anyway, I don’t know why I wrote this letter. Maybe I was just curious? Maybe because you were so sure I wouldn’t respond and I subconsciously wanted to piss you off? I don’t know. But your letter has been stuck in my head ever since I got it so I felt like I’d blow up if I didn’t do something, so. Tell me about yourself, I guess? (Why am I this awkward with starting conversations even in a letter?) What are your pronouns? What grade are you in? What do you look like? (You won’t answer this probably but I wrote it anyway.) What are your hobbies? Do you have bad taste in everything or just crushes? (Ah, self-deprecating humor, my specialty.)

So, ah, yeah, that’s all I have to say. See you. (Or well, read you, but you know what I mean.)


Magnus Chase.

Alex reread the letter about three times before he finally accepted the fact that Magnus had actually written back. Magnus had actually written back, complimented his drawing and asked to learn more about him. Alex wanted to slap himself for the stupid smile threatening to take over his face and the uncoordinated beating of his heart as he thought back to the letter. Curse you, human feelings!

The bell snapped Alex back to reality. He shoved the letter in his pocket and run to his next class. He made it just before the lesson started and he took his seat, not caring about the rest of the students looking at him or for the teacher going “ts, ts”. He knew he should be paying attention to whatever the teacher was saying, or at least pretend to, but Alex really couldn’t be bothered right now, not when he was thinking hard about what he should write back to Magnus.


Magnus found the next note in his locker. A folded piece of paper was lying on a stack of books, his admirer’s (just thinking that felt so surreal) handwriting looking up at him the simple To: Magnus (duh) written at the front of the paper.

Magnus pulled it out and unfolded the paper. The back of the paper, where his name was written, was filled from top to bottom in random doodles. Stars and crisscrossed lines decorated the margins of the paper, lone eyes and hands doting the page wherever there was a bit of space. There was a small sketch of Miss. Dods, the algebra teacher, with horns sprouting from her head and wings from her back like some short of demon, throwing ‘x’s and ‘y’s and a ton more incomprehensible algebra things at a cartoonish crowd of screaming students. Near the top of the paper was a doodle of what Magnus guessed was a green haired Eliza from Hamilton holding a letter to her chest with “Helpless” written above her head in fancy badly-done cursive. Half-finished sketches of who must have been (a more attractive) Magnus were spread throughout the paper.

Magnus’s lips were tugging upwards in a small smile as he turned the paper to look at the letter.

Dear Magnus,

I can’t believe you actually answered me. I think I made it pretty clear in my first letter that I didn’t expect you to. Though if you were trying to piss me off by doing that, you failed because it just made me weirdly happy. (Don’t tell that to anyone, I have a reputation to maintain.)

Thank you for your compliment, but I have to disagree because someone would need to have a lot of talent to do you justice. I suppose people don’t tell you often that you’re very pretty, huh? Well, you are, so there.

Now, as for your questions: I’m genderfluid, so my pronouns keep changing, but she/ her would be a safe guess most days (though I’m male as I’m writing this). I’m in tenth grade like you. As you guessed, I can’t tell you what I look like because, trust me, you would be able to figure out who I am immediately. My hobbies are mostly art, especially pottery. I also like fantasy/ sci-fi/ adventure books and hiking or going camping. And since you seem to think nobody would have a crush on you (I’m obviously the exception to that rule), here’s a nice little list of reasons why:

·         You have really nice hair. It’s sorta old-fashioned and it makes you look a bit like Kurt Cobain, but I like it. It suits you and it looks really soft. It’s also fun to draw.

·         I swear to my pottery wheel your eyes are amazing and no matter how many times I have tried, I just can’t get the color right from memory.

·         Your whole face lights up when you laugh a lot and I have to remind myself not to stare because that would be creepy.

·         You look like a personified ball of sunshine but you are really sarcastic and cynical and seeing you roast someone is one of the best things I’ve seen in my life.

·         Speaking of roasting, that one time you sassed Marlene in front of the entire class because she kept getting your pronouns wrong and you told her off so well that she was gapping like a fish for a few seconds. That was epic (and hot) (don’t judge me). (Also, yes, I’m in your English class. Spoilers, I guess?)

·         You’re just generally adorable? Like, what more do you want me to say? I’m in deep. (Btw, enjoy this because I don’t think I’ve ever said the word ‘adorable’ to describe anyone out loud and probably never will, but this is a letter and I feel more comfortable to call you cute than I would in person.)

·         You’re a nice person. Like, honestly, you’re such a Hufflepuff it’s ridiculous, but really endearing and I’ve seen you help out people around school you don’t even know. Like, yeah, blame me for falling for a saint!

That’s everything that comes to mind right now that I can actually fit in this paper. If I wrote down everything this thing would be bigger than the list of idiots at this school.

I don’t know if writing to each other will be a thing but I really hope it will be.

You seriously need to work on your self-esteem dude,

Your secret admirer.

Magnus hadn’t realized it – probably because he was too busy feeling his skin melt of his face because of how hard he was blushing - but he was smiling at the letter like an idiot. He was so caught up in the warmth that flooded through his body because of this person’s word that he didn’t notice Halfborn, Mallory and T.J sneak up on him.

“Boo!” Halfborn said right in his ear, because, as someone who was graduating this year, that’s how mature he was when it came to his friends. Magnus yelped in surprised and reflexively shoved the letter behind a sweatshirt in his locker. God forbid any of his friends found out about the letters, they would never let him hear the end of it.

“Halfborn, what the hell?” Magnus turned around, still positively red in the face, to look at the shit-eating grins on his friends’ faces.

Apparently, scaring him into almost having a heart-attack was funny, because Halfborn laughed. “Aw, don’t be like that, Magnus. I was just trying to cheer you up before you have to go suffer in Miss. Hitler’s class.”

Magnus’s good mood soured as he realized that, yes, his next class was with his most hated teacher. He groaned and threw his head back. “Damnit, I’d rather you kill me than have to deal with her for forty five minutes.”

Mallory nodded solemnly and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll be fine. Think of the bright side,” she said, that familiar teasing tone creeping into her voice, “you’ll get to see your crush.”

Magnus immediately flushed red (well, redder). He had English with Alex Fierro and course they would tease him about it.

“I don’t have a crush,” he hissed at them. They just smiled, the little shits, and shot each other these looks™, like they were talking without actually saying anything. The unfortunate side effects of becoming friends with people who have known each other since kindergarten.

“Now, now, Magnus,” T.J said in a sweet fatherly kind of tone, ruffling up Magnus’s hair. “There’s nothing wrong with having a crush. You’ll feel better if you admit it.”

“I. Don’t. Have. A. Crush,” Magnus said slowly, emphasizing every word. Yet his face was still burning and a small voice in the back of his head was saying, who are you kidding?

Shut up, brain, this does not concern you.

Magnus’s friends didn’t look convinced, but the boy didn’t look at them, instead turning around to shove the books he needed and the letter inside his back. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he said before running away lest they keep teasing him.

Magnus was almost to the door of the English classroom where he had an important realization. His secret admirer was in the same English class as him.

Suddenly dreading this period much less than usual, Magnus walked through the door and shut down at his desk. He was early, normally he postponed having to come here as much as he could, and the classroom wasn’t full yet. He got his books out and pretended to look at them while he watched the door and each person that walked through it, trying to figure out who could be the person writing him letters.

Who did he know at school that was genderfluid? Okay, not many people, but there was always the possibility they weren’t out yet. Still, simply asking that question brought a single person to the forefront of his mind. As if on cue, lo and behold, Alex Fierro walked into the classroom.

Magnus gasped a little, just a little, but he was too distracted to yell at himself for it. Alex was wearing pink and green, as usual, but damn did she pull it off. A pronoun bottom was pinned to her hoodie, informing the world that today was a she/her day. Her hair was pulled back in a tiny ponytail at the base of her neck and there were paint stains on her fingers.

Magnus didn’t realize he was staring until Alex sat down at her desk next to his and waved hello at him. He waved back awkwardly, praying to the universe that he wasn’t blushing as much as he felt he was (curse his pale skin!).

“How long do you think she’ll manage to last before throwing somebody out of the class?” Alex asked, leaning over closer to Magnus. The blonde couldn’t help but be surprised. Alex spent most of her time in this class pretending to be paying attention, wanting to kill the teacher and doodling. They spoke occasionally, but even that didn’t happen so commonly, mostly because Magnus sucked at keeping conversations going, especially with beautiful people.

“I say ten minutes,” Magnus guessed, glancing at Miss. Marlene at the front of the room. She had a habit of getting angry at students even when they didn’t do anything and she almost always yelled at and/or kicked out a few specific students. (Two of which were Magnus and Alex.)

Alex hummed thoughtfully. “I say five. She looked like she wanted to cut my head off last time.”

Magnus snickered as he remembered their last lesson, where Alex had been feeling especially rebellious and kept mocking Miss. Marlene whenever her back was turned. Magnus’s eyes closed as he laughed and he didn’t see the lovestruck way Alex was looking at him.

They didn’t get the chance to talk much more because the bell rang and Miss. Marlene slammed the door shut, demanding attention from everybody in the class. Magnus soon tuned out what she was saying, having perfected the art in his time in high school.

Who could be his secret admirer? He looked around the class discretely, mentally crossing off the people that couldn’t possibly be his mysterious pen pall. It had to be someone genderfluid, who disliked the English professor as much as him, was into art and was striking enough appearance wise that it’d be easy to find them in a crowd. One by one, the students in the class were crossed out, leaving just a handful of people that fit the criteria, one of them sticking out to Magnus more than anyone else.

It couldn’t possibly be Alex… Right?

Like, Magnus really wanted it to be her. A picture formed in his mind of Alex sneaking around to leave the notes in his book and locker, of her looking at him when he wasn’t paying attention. His heart did a little acrobatic trick at the thought, his cheeks warming up. Without realizing it, his lips had turned up in a small smile. That would be nice.

He kept smiling like an idiot until his mind caught up with his heart and he mentally scolded himself. Idiot, like that would happen, the pessimistic side of his brain said. There’s no way you’d be that lucky. Don’t get your hopes up.

Still, the other side of his brain said. It’d be nice if I was.


In the end, Magnus and his secret admirer exchanging letters had become common place. Magnus wasn’t keep replying to this person, but he couldn’t deny he liked her. They just got along well, they shared a lot of the same sarcastic attitude and interests. Talking (or, well, writing) to her was a lot of fun. Magnus had become accustomed to checking his locker every chance he got to see if there was a note there and his heart always soared whenever he found one

Of course, being Magnus, the realization didn’t hit him until sometime in December. He was in physics class, reading his admirer’s latest lesson instead of paying attention to whatever the teacher was talking about. He tapped his fingers on the desk as he tried to figure out what to write back, his mind constantly drifting off and stopping him from forming coherent sentences. He kept thinking back to all the other letters, their jokes and barbs at each other. How funny she was and how beautiful her sketches were, even though she kept insisting they weren’t anything special. How much he’d like to know who she was so they could spend time and person and actually hear her laugh instead of seeing it wrote on paper and –

That’s when it hit him, like a bucket of cold water to the face, as his heart fluttered at the thought. Do I have a crush on her?

He scrunched his eyes and shook his head, like that would get the thought to go away. A few students (that weren’t dozing off on their desks) looked at him confused but Magnus couldn’t be bothered to care about them; he was having a crisis here.

He couldn’t like her, right? Like, he had a crush on Alex, even though he couldn’t see himself acting out on it, he couldn’t have a crush on two people at the same time. Could he? He tried to reason with himself that he was wrong, after all, he hadn’t met her, but that wasn’t quite right, was it? He’d been talking to her for months now; even if it wasn’t face to face, he knew her and she knew him.

Confused, Magnus rubbed at his temples like he had a headache, a sight that wasn’t uncommon in this class. Sweet falafel, why is this happening to me? I can’t deal with one crush, what am I supposed to do with two?

If Magnus wasn’t paying attention to class before, he sure as hell wasn’t doing it now. His mind was flooded with thoughts of letters and startling eyes, sketches and green hair. Alex Fierro and the mysterious girl assaulted his mind, the butterflies in his stomach going on a rampage no matter which one he was thinking of.

Magnus’s crisis was still going strong by the time the school day ended and three days later, he still couldn’t come up with an answer as to which one he was crushing on harder. Is this what all the stupid main characters in bad YA novels felt like? After the third day of mentally questioning himself, Magnus resulted to the good old method of not thinking about it and hopping it will go away.

That always works, right?

… Oh, who is he kidding? He’s fucked. (And not in the good way.)

And to make matters worse (or better, if you like to see him suffer, like the universe does), in her last class before Christmas break, Miss. Marlene announced they would have to complete an assignment over the break in pairs. The students groaned because one, homework, and two, Miss. Marlene never lets you choose your partner, meaning you could be stuck with someone you’ve never spoken to in your whole career in this hellhole.

As Miss. Marlene announced the pairs, Magnus’s eyes wandered around the room, mentally ticking off the people that already had a partner or the people he just didn’t want to work with. His eyes were on Alex when, as if on cue, Miss. Marlene told him his partner for the project.

“Mari – Sorry, Magnus Chase, you’ll be working with Alex Fierro.”

Magnus froze.

Wait… what?

It took a few moments for what he just heard to register in Magnus’s mind, during which he looked at the teacher in a dumbfounded expression. Unbeknown to him, Alex was in the exact same state.

You have to be kidding me, he thought.

Miss. Marlene went on to explain how they had to make a summary of a Shakespearean play and present it to class in any way they wanted. She went on to list out the kind of things they couldn’t do, like strip naked (because yes, that happened once), but Magnus wasn’t paying attention at all. His eyes trailed over to Alex where he was staring holes in his notebook, one hand buried in his green locks, the loose curls framing his dark skin and-

Okay, forget getting a good grade, Magnus will be lucky if he doesn’t turn into a pile of mush by the time they’ve finished the project.

In the desk next to his, Alex was having a similar crisis. He had to work on a project with Magnus. Magnus. Fuck, he already knew Miss. Marlene was evil, but he didn’t expect her to want him to die from too much cuteness! (Because have you looked at Magnus Chase? Alex is pretty sure his doing this just to torture him.) (By ‘this’ he means existing.)

He spends the rest of the period glaring at his notebook, like it will somehow give him all the answers he needs. Before he realizes any time has passed, the bell has rang and Magnus is standing awkwardly by his desk.

“So, um, what should we do for the assignment?” The blonde boy asked. Magnus got up and they started talking as Alex suggested plays they could do, slowly slimming down their choices to Macbeth because it’s a classic and because they both like the part where Macbeth is so sure there’s no way he can just for him to lose. Alex is awfully acute of the half written letter in his bag, and a weird feeling settles into his stomach as they stop in front of Magnus’s locker. It’s so weird to think he’ll be sneaking around to leave that same letter in Magnus’s locker tomorrow. (He would like to leave it today, but he doesn’t have a free period and he still hasn’t finished his drawing at the back of it. Yes, he has to draw something, it’s a thing by this point and he won’t ruin it.)

“So, should we meet up after school to work on it?” Magnus asked. “Get it out of the way as soon as possible so we can forget about it?”

Alex nodded. Personally, he would have procrastinated till the last day, but anything for the human ball of sunshine. “Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

Magnus seemed to tense up at that and Alex guessed he hadn’t actually thought of that. “My house, I guess? It’s not far from school, we could walk there after school tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then, Maggie.”

It was as Alex was walking away, trying to appear as cool and natural as possible, that it sank in. I’m going to Magnus’s house tomorrow. Sweet fuck.


Magnus was waiting for Alex by the main doors of the school the next day while the rest of the students all but run away. Magnus couldn’t really blame them for it; he wanted to do the same right now.

Ok, relax, it’s just a school assignment, he told to himself. It’s not like he has never spoken to Alex one on one for more than fifteen minutes and they will be alone in his room for who knows how long with nobody around other than his adopted fathers who know how much he likes her and will certainly embarrass him. He’ll be fine.

Oh, who is he kidding?

Magnus fiddles with his shirt when he finally sees Alex’s green head of hair among the sea of students. He straightens his back suddenly, for what purpose he doesn’t know, but he does it. Alex struggles a bit too get out of the crowd of students, by trough a lot of ducking and elbowing people taller than her, she manages to get to where Magnus is and holly kebab.

Now, Magnus will be the first to tell you that Alex Fierro can’t look bad, even when she’s in an old hoodie that’s long enough to work as a dress and has paint stains and clay bits all over her. She just looks good and Magnus has accepted the fact he will never get a break from how pretty she is and the heart attacks she subsequently gives him, but is she trying to kill him right now?

She’s in boots and patterned pink tights, a worn parka with pink fur at the hood open over a dark green sweater with ‘Fuck you’ written in Christmas lights. She doesn’t look to be affected by the cold weather that has Magnus looking like an onion (he’s wearing five layers of clothes) and he would have been upset at the injustice of it if Alex didn’t look tiny inside her large jacket.

“Hey, Magnus,” she greeted when she came closer. The boy in question had to do a double take – was she wearing make up? Admittedly, it was very little but it made her captivating eyes pop even more than they already did and Magnus would not make it through to the end of the night, he was sure of that.

“Hey, Alex,” he said back, hoping with everything he had he didn’t sound too awkward. Over Alex’s shoulder, he saw Halfborn, Mallory, T.J and Sam give him thumbs up and mouth encouragements at him (T.J was holding up a notebook with “GO TIGER!” written on it). His stomach dropped and he wished as hard as he could Alex wouldn’t turn around because if she did he would die.

“Should we get going?” Alex asked, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“Yeah, I’m freezing here.” Also my friends want to embarrass me in front of my crush.

“I don’t know, it’s not that cold,” Alex said as they walked away from the school and Magnus’s friends. Magnus turned to look at her so fast he almost got whiplash.

“‘Not that cold’? Not that cold?” Magnus nearly yelled. “My tits are freezing off – and honestly, be my guest – but still! How are you not cold?”

Alex shrugged, a smile on her lips. “I don’t know. I guess… the cold never bothered me anyway.”

Magnus stared at her blankly. Alex kept looking at him with a shit eating grin.

“You didn’t just do that.”

“Oh, come on, it was too good to pass up.” Alex was smiling so widely that she had wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Magnus himself was trying hard not to smile and all his previous worries about today were forgotten. “You would have said it too.”

Magnus couldn’t so no to that. “Yeah, you’re right. So if you’re Elsa, who does that make me?”

Alex hummed as she thought, pouting slightly and why is the world doing this to him? “Marshmallow-  no, Olaf! Marshmallow is like a gentle giant, you’re nowhere near a giant.”

“I’m still taller than you,” he pointed out. Alex glared at him from her three inches shorter height.

“And don’t you love pointing that out.”

Magnus laughed. They kept walking though the street, occasionally to jump inside a pile of snow against their better judgment. By the time they made it to Magnus’s apartment their noses were red and they had snow in their shoes.

“My room is down the hall to the left,” Magnus said as he kicked off his boots. If they were lucky, he could get Alex into his room and out of sight before Hearthstone saw her (Blitzen should still be at the shop at this hour).

Just when Magnus though they were safe, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He yelped, an embarrassingly high sound he would deny later, and turned to find Hearthstone behind him.

“Hi, Magnus. Who’s your friend?” Hearth signed and despite playing innocent Magnus could tell from his little smirk that he knew exactly who this was.

“Hearth, this is Alex. Alex, this is Hearth, his one of my dads,” he said, signing as he spoke.

“It’s nice to finally meet Magnus’s crush. He doesn’t shut up about you.” The cheeky little shit was smiling the whole time he was signing that; to anyone who didn’t know him it would seem like a perfectly normal smile, but Magnus knew he was evil in the inside. Thankfully for him, Alex didn’t seem to understand what Hearth had signed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know sign language.”

“He said he happy to meet one of my friends and that he’s heard a lot about you,” Magnus quickly translated. Hearth was smirking at him but Alex didn’t seem to notice.

“Only good things, I hope.”

Magnus cocked his head to the side. “There are good things to say about you?”

Alex rolled her eyes and punched him lightly in the arm while Hearth, much to Magnus’s horror, signed, “Young love. I remember when Blitzen and I first met.”

“We’re gonna go start working on that project now!” Magnus all but yelled, glaring at Hearth over his shoulder as he pushed Alex towards his room. Hearth just smiled and signed, “Go lover-boy.”

Once safely inside his room, Magnus was finally able to relax. “Make yourself comfortable,” he told Alex, who was looking curiously around his room at different posters and books. “I’m just gonna…” he made a few awkward hand gestures, pointing awkwardly towards his chest before grabbing a sports bra (that was hanging off the back of his desk chair, why didn’t he think to tidy his room before Alex came?) and going to the bathroom to change.

When he came back, Alex was looking at the summary at the back of Six of Crows and didn’t seem to really pay attention to Magnus putting his binder away inside his closet. He glanced nervously to the second drawer in his desk, hoping Alex didn’t snoop around in there while he was in the bathroom. He kept the letters from his secret admirer there and he didn’t dare imagine what would happen if Alex found them. He would never be able to live it down.

Speaking of letters, he still hadn’t gotten a reply to his last letter even though he left it two days ago. He figured she was just busy with school or the holidays, but he was still curious about why she hadn’t responded to him yet.

“This sounds nice,” Alex said, putting the book back on the self before joining Magnus where he was sitting on the floor. Magnus offered to let her borrow it and they soon got to work, brainstorming ideas for their summary of Macbeth and roasting Miss. Marlene. They had decided on a sarcastic, stand-up comedy kind of summary and after coming up with a few jokes, they decided to start writing down their lines.

“We need some paper,” Magnus mumbled, reaching out to open Alex’s notebook where it lay on the floor and opening it in the back to start writing.

“Magnus, wait-“Alex said, eyes going wide when she saw him taking the notebook but it was too late. Magnus had already opened at the very back, where an all too familiar handwriting looked up at him.

Dear Magnus,

I am appalled to know you have never seen The Exorcist or The Shining. I am truly disappointed in you, how dare you. I don’t care if you say you don’t like horror movies, you need to watch them.


Magnus wasn’t able to read any more of it because Alex reaped the notebook from his hands. “Give that!” she yelled, eyes wide with panic as she clutched it to her chest, like it would somehow make Magnus forget what he had seen.

“You’re…” he started, looking at Alex frozen in place. He felt like someone had just thrown him inside a freezing lake. Alex was his secret admirer? “You were the one writing me letters?”

“Y-yeah…” Alex was avoiding looking at him, the notebook clutched to her chest, looking like a turtle trying to hide in its shell.

In hindsight, Magnus knew what he did wasn’t the best move, but the absurdity of the situation caught up to him. Here he was, crushing so hard on Alex for the past few months, stressing over what he should do when he realized he was crushing on his admirer too. He rejected the idea that she could ever possibly be his admirer when he had been right and she was the one he was exchanging letters with all this months. It was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help bursting out in laughter.

With his eyes scrunched close, Magnus didn’t the hurt flashing in Alex’s eyes that quickly turned to anger. With tears she refused to let fall in her eyes, she grabbed her bag from the floor and shoved the notebook inside. “I’m leaving,” she said, her voice breaking despite how hard she tried to sound normal.

Magnus’s laughter died in his throat when he saw Alex moving towards the door in a hurry, desperately trying to hold back tears. “Alex, wait!” He cried out, grabbing her wrist just before she was able to open the door and leave.

“Why?” she snapped turning back to him. “Why? So you can laugh at me more? Stupid Alex with her stupid crush, writing you fucking letters! I’m sure it’s so funny, did you show the letters to your friends so you could all laugh over them?”

Alex’s face was red with rage, tears making their way down her cheeks. Her voice was raw as she yelled at him, but she kept going. Magnus had never felt such guilt before in his life, like a hand was squeezing his heart.

“I didn’t, Alex, no one else knows about them but us,” he said. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist as Alex’s shoulders shook and he looked her in the eyes, wishing with all his might she’ll believe him.

“And why should I believe you?” she yelled. “You just found out I’ve been crushing on you like an idiot and you laughed in my face!”

“Yes, because I didn’t think you of all people would like me!” Magnus yelled back. The anger in Alex’s face seemed to subside and he took his chance to explain himself. “I didn’t think I could ever possibly be that lucky! I’ve been crushing on you since you came to this school! My friends tease me on a daily basis because I stare at you like a lovesick puppy without realizing! When you started writing to me, I tried to figure out who you were, and I wondered if it was you but rejected the idea because I didn’t think you’d like me! And then I started getting a crush on the person writing me letters only to find out that she and my crush were the same person!”

Magnus hadn’t realized how loud he had gotten until he stopped speaking. Silence fell between them as Alex stared at him with wide eyes.

“You mean that?” Alex finally asked hesitantly.

“Yes! Yes, I do! I like you so much, you have no idea, and I’m sorry I laughed at you and made you cry, I didn’t mean to do that, but the situation was so absurd and it just came out and-“

A laugh stopped Magnus’s frantic rambling. Alex was wiping the tears from her eyes as she laughed at him and Magnus’s heart swelled at the sound.

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble like that, I just got nervous,” he muttered, looking awkwardly to the side. Alex chuckled again and Magnus wouldn’t mind making a fool of himself all the time if it would get her to laugh.

“It’s fine, idiot,” she said. Magnus didn’t know someone could make idiot sound so much like a pet name. “So… will you stop holding my wrist and hold my hand?”

Magnus’s heart skipped a sonnet’s worth of beats. “Y-yeah.” He moved his hind down and took her hand in his. “Is this okay?”

Alex grinned at him and squeezed him hand. “I asked you to do it, didn’t I?”

Magnus smiled back happily and for a moment, they stayed there, just holding hands and smiling. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Hearthstone came in with a tray of snacks. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the two teens holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling like they were in a romance movie. He slowly set the tray down.

“Excuse me for interrupting,” he signed. “Carry on.”

He closed the door behind him and left. Then, he opened it again just a second later and signed, “Also, if you just got together, congratulations. It was about time.”

This time when Hearth left he didn’t come back and the new couple burst into laughing at what had just happened. When they finally got their breath back and they weren’t doubled over anymore, Magnus spoke up.

“So, are we a couple now?”

Alex rolled her eyes at him with a smirk. “What do you think?” she asked and leaned in to plant a kiss on Magnus’s lips. No matter how many times he had imagined kissing Alex, he had never imagined her kisses would be so soft and sweet.

Magnus must have still been too caught up on the fact that Alex had just kissed him because he didn’t speak after Alex pulled away. Alex’s brows furrowed with worry at the silence.

“Was that not okay?” she asked quietly. A huge smile broke out on Magnus’s face, one of those smiles that looked brighter than the sun to Alex and he leaned in to kiss her again.

“It was perfect.”

Montgomery x Reader Imagine (Part 14/?)


I’m not super proud of it, okay? But I need something to fill in before cool things happen, okay?

Also thank you for all your lovely messages and feedback even when you have to wait ages for next part xx

PS to the people sending requests - you are aware of the fact it’ll take 47281 years for me to post it?

I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror just to see how miserable I look. I took a few deep breaths making sure I’m not crying anymore, cleaned mascara that smudged on my face fixed my hair and left just to walked straight into Montgomery making himself a drink in the kitchen.

“Hey, I was calling you before upstairs”, he said when he spotted me.

“I don’t know why, you clearly were busy”, I said and walked past him.

“Because you called my name while you were opening the door?”.

I stopped.

“So what was it?”, he asked.

“Nothing”, I shrugged. “Not important anymore”.

“But it was important before, so what was it?”, he gently grabbed me by my arm and turned me to see my face. “Were you crying?”

“Sorry Montgomery, I’m going home, I have to find Jeff”, I released my arm and walked outside.

“Why, party hasn’t even started properly yet.”, he said going after me.

“Yes, it has. I’ve been here for two hours but you were too busy to see, Montgomery, and I’m done”.

“I just want to tell you, I didn’t…”

“De la Cruz, that’s my man!”, Bryce interrupted him. “So, how was it upstairs? She any good?”, he asked putting his arm at Montgomery’s shoulder.

“Both of you are disgusting”, I rolled my eyes and walked away.

“Come on, Y/N, you can have some of that too”, Bryce shouted.

I was walking around looking for Jeff and avoiding Montgomery, I was already humiliated enough for one night.

“Hey, I was looking for you everywhere”, I said when I finally found Jeff.

“I was in the house, on the phone”, he explained.

“What’s up?”

“Take me home, please.”

“Why? We barely even came here.”

“We’re here for like two hours and I’m done”, I sighed. “I’m not asking you to leave party for good, I’m asking you to drive me home.”

“Were you crying?”, he asked.

“What?”, I pretended I’m surprised as if I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“You have smuged mascara on your face”, he crossed his arms.


“Maybe. Can you drive me home?”

“Does it have anything to do with Montgomery? I can kick his ass, you know that.”

I laughed a little bit.

“I don’t want you to kick his ass, you’re better than that.“

“What’s up, guys?”, Justin came up and wrapped his arms around me and Jeff.

“What did I tell you about your arm around me?”, I asked.

“I actually want to talk to you”, he said.

“I’ll leave you two. Bro, make her stay at the party”, Jeff patted Justin’s arm and left us.

“You’re going home?”

“I want to but Jeff doesn’t really want to leave party for 20 minutes”, I sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”, I asked. Not about Montgomery, please, I told to myself.

“I had fight with Jess”, he said and I realized that she in fact wasn’t here, “ and Bryce… And my mum and meth Seth are thing again so…”, I saw he wasn’t comfortable talking about that and I already knew where this was going to.

“You want to crash at my place?”

“I can sleep in tree house, please”.

“Don’t be silly. My mum is out of town,y dad is chill, you’ll sleep in home. But I have one condition.”


“You’re leaving party with me and we’re doing it now.”

“Okay, it sucks anyway. Wait, I’ll just take my things”, Justin run inside and I looked around looking for Jeff again, this time to tell him I’m coming home with Justin and that he can stay. He wasn’t anywhere around to be seen so I decided text will be enough.

I went home with Justin, have fun XX

I spotted Foley talking to Montgomery and slowly walking my direction. Please, don’t bring him here, please don’t bring him here, I prayed. Luckily, Montgomery went to the beer pong table and Justin joined me.

We walked in silence, but it was good, comfortable silence as neither of us really felt like talking.

“Dad?”, I asked opening the door when we got to my house.

“Here”, he said from living room.

“Hi, I’m with Justin…”

“Kids today, I have to teach you everything”, he sighed standing up from the couch. “If you bring boy home in the middle of the night, he walks in by window, you don’t tell parents about it”, he joked as he obviously knew Justin was in relationship with Jessica and besides that right after Jeff he was the closest to me out of all boys.

“Damn, Y/N, I knew we were doing something wrong”, Justin joked.

“So umm… Justin had a fight with his mum”, I started, “and her boyfriend… And Jessica, besides her dad is super strict so I thought…”

“He can sleep in guest’s room”, my dad smiled.

“See, I told you”, I looked at Foley with triumphal smile.

“Thank you, Mr Y/L/N”.

I went to the kitchen, took some snacks and went upstairs with Justin. We still didn’t feel like talking so we watched a movie.

“So ummm…”, Justin started in the middle of the movie. “I heard you and Tina had a fight again”.

“We didn’t have a fight”, I rolled my eyes. “After the game I was waiting for Jeff and she left girls’ room, spotted me and started talking her shit again.

“What is her problem with you, really?”

“Really, I don’t know. I wasn’t even aware or her existence until she and Montgomery started going out”, I shrugged. “What did you and Jessica fought about?”

“You and Montgomery”.


“She thinks that there is something going on between you two and that he tells me everything, unlike you, and she got mad I don’t want to tell her what is happening. Not that I know”.

“God, I’m sorry Justin”, I sighed. “I’ll talk to her, I promise”, well I told Sheri everything because she saw us, but never talked about it with Jess and if everyone started getting suspicious, than so did she.

“It’s okay. So… There is something to talk about?”, he asked with a grin.

“No, there is not. I will tell her that nothing is happening. Now shut up, cause I want to finish the movie”.

I lied to him. Again. I was going to tell her everything. And because, well, Jess wasn’t to good with keeping her mouth shut, she would tell Justin sooner or later.

We finished the movie, Justin went to his room, I quickly washed and get to bed. I couldn’t fall asleep because it felt very hot in my room so I opened window and laid in bed again. When I was almost sleeping I heard some weird noise and looked at the window scared.


I sighed with relief.

“Montgomery, what the fuck are you doing?”, I whispered when he got into my room through open window.

“I want to talk”, he said loudly.

“Shhhh”, I covered his mouth.

I much as my dad was okay with Justin sleeping in guest’s room, he wouldn’t be okay with boy coming into my bedroom through window.

“Are you drunk?”, I asked I as smelled alcohol.

“Yes”, he nodded his head.

“What do you want?”, I sighed.

Before he could answer I heard steps outside my room.

“To the closet and keep your mouth shut”, I hissed and closed him in the closet and laid in bed.

Seconds after my dad opened door.

“Sweetie, you’re okay? I heard some noise”, he asked.

“Yeah, it’s good. I stood up to open window, stood on remote and tv started playing”, I pointed at remote that in fact was on the floor very close to my bed.

“Okay, sleep well.”

“Thanks”, I smiled as he closed the door and I could hear he went back to his bedroom.

Quietly I got up from bed and went to the closet.

“What do you want, Montgomery?”, I whispered.

“I needed to see you”.


“I miss you, Y/N”, he said taking some hair of my face.

“What?”, I asked a little bit numb.

“I miss our thing… What we had”, he said pulling me closer and placing his lips on mine.

For a moment I felt vulnerable feeling his kiss, his hands tightened on me and his lips started going down my neck. But then I shook off from first shock and pushed him away.  

“Montgomery, stop”, I said not looking at him. “We’re done”.

Why was he doing it to me… Few days ago he examined Tina’s throat with his tongue in the middle of school hallway and few hours ago he literally fucked a girl at a party.

“I never got my goodbye kiss”, he insisted.

“And you won’t”, I tried to take a step back but he pulled me in.

“You just don’t understand anything”, he mumbled.

“I’m pretty sure I understand everything”, there was nothing to not understand, he came here hoping to get laid.

“You’re pretty, yes, but you don’t understand”.

“Montgomery, leave, please”, I sighed.

“Is that what you really want?”, he asked mumbling, because his drunkenness only let him mumbling.


“Yes”, I said not looking at him.

“Tina would take me back any second, you know?”

“Well, I’m not Tina, you know? Montgomery, go home”, I sighed.

“Whatever”, he chuckled. “So no goodbye kiss?”

“No”, I crossed my arms.

“I’m going to Vermont for Christmas, I might not come back.”

“Bye, see you at Jeff’s New Year’s Eve party”, I gently pushed him to the window.

“See you, babe”, he said walking out.

“Don’t call… Whatever”, I sighed looking at him crawling out of the window, praying he wouldn’t do much noise.

When he got down safely I laid back in bed but couldn’t fall asleep for another few good hours.


“Wake up, wake up!”, Justin stormed into my room at 9 am in the morning.

“Jesus, Foley, do you know what Saturday is for? Sleeping”, I said covering my head with pillow.

“Wake up, your dad is making pancakes”, he said and literally jumped at me.

“Ouch! Get off me”, I pushed him away. “He’s literally making them because you’re here. If it was just me and him there would be cereals, so thanks for being here”, I said getting up.

“We’re eating and we’re going to Jessica”, he ordered. “You’ll talk to her, and me and her will make up”.

“Still, you can’t sleep at her place.”

“My mum called me, meth Seth got away again, so it should be okay for next two weeks.”

We went downstairs, ate breakfast, I quickly changed and did my makeup and we left to Jess’ place.

“You remember about Trixie, right?”, dad asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go straight there”, I said.

We decided I’d walked in Jess’ home alone, Justin would wait a street away and came in after I explain her everything.

“Hi”, she said surprised to see me.

“Hey, I have to talk with you”, I said walking in and going to her room with her.

“What’s happening?”, she asked.

“It’s about me and Montgomery…”


“Okay… That’s a lot”, she said when I finished telling story.

“Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just wanted to keep it a secret and Sheri knows only because she saw me with him.”

“So you’re telling me Justin doesn’t know about anything?”, Jess asked and I shook my head. “God, I’m so stupid, I have to talk to him”, she said reaching for her phone.

“Actually… He’s somewhere close, he came here with me, I told him to wait outside before I finish.”

“Let’s go see him”, got up and we quickly left the house.

We found Justin, the two of them make up so I decided it was time for me to go.

“Okay guys, I’ll leave you now, I have to go to Trixie”, I said.

“Wait, I can drive you”, Jessica offered.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not that far and a walk will be good for me”, I smiled. “Bye, guys.”

They walked inside and I went away. As I was walking I decided to call Montgomery and be as cold as I can and tell him that he can’t just show up at my place when he’s drunk.

“Hello?”, he answered phone with sleepy, raspy voice.

“What were you thinking, Montgomery? You can’t just walk into my room by the window when you’re drunk”

“And when I’m sober?”

“I’m serious. Honestly, how much did you drink yesterday to show up and my room in the middle of the night to tell me you miss me?”

He didn’t answer for few seconds.

“I just want things between us to be normal again”, he said finally.

“What do you mean by normal?”

“I just miss talking to you, okay?”

I stopped walking and bit my lip.

“Okay, listen… You’re going to Vermont for Christmas, I’m staying here, we won’t see each other, atmosphere will get clear and when we meet at NYE party we’ll act normal. Just like it was before anything happened okay?”

“Okay”, he agreed.

“Look it’s almost like we’re adults”, I laughed.

“Not sure if I like that”, he mumbled and that made me stop walking again. “Okay, I have to get ready for a plane. So I guess it’s time to wish you merry Christmas in advance.”

“Merry Christmas, Monty”, I smiled to the phone.

I hung up and took a deep breath.

“I’m adult, I’m adult, I’m adult”, I mumbled to myself and went to babysit Trixie.


“You’re sad today”, she said after she realized I put zero effort in drawing in colouring book.

“No, I’m just tired, sweetie”, I smiled at her. “I had a tough week, you know”.

“Is it because of your broken wrist?”

“Partly, yes”, I nodded.

“I heard your mum telling that one girl did it on purpose to you.”

“You overheard, Trixie, that’s naughty and you don’t want to get on a naughty list few days before Christmas, do you?”

“Why did she do that?”, she continued and completely ignored what I was saying.

“I don’t know if she did that on purpose, sweet…”

“Your mum said she did and that she got suspended. And that Montgomery took you to the hospital, so maybe he knows if she did”, kid was stubborn. “We can go and ask him!”

“What? How do you even know Montgomery?”

“We saw him on a Halloween, remember?”

“Right, we’re not asking him about anything, understood? Keep drawing”, I told her a little bit surprised that she even remember she met Monty almost two months ago.

Kid was stubborn and smart and that was the worst combination.

“I just…", she said quietly. “I just want to know if someone hurt you intentionally… Because you’re sad cause of that and I never want you to be sad, because I love you very much”.

My heart melted that exact moment.

“Sweetie”, I hugged her. “I love you too, very, very much. But really you don’t have to worry about anything, okay? That girl is not in cheer team anymore so she won’t hurt me or anyone ever again or purpose or not. Okay?”

“Okay”, she nodded her head and started drawing again.

“Sit here, I’ll make myself some coffee”.

I left her in the room and went down to the kitchen. When I was slowly walking back to the room with a mug full of coffee I heard her talking to someone.

“Trixie?”, I asked opening door to her room. And then I saw her. With my phone in her hand. Facetiming Montgomery. “What the heck?”, I put my coffee on the shelf next to door and quickly took my phone. “Trixie, what are you doing?”

“Montgomery explained me everything”, she said with a smile. “He said it’s not really important how did you injured your wrist, it’s important that nothing worst happened and that you’ll be okay in few weeks”.


She cleared her throat looked at me, at my phone and at me again, then I realized facetime with Monty was still on.

“uhh.. Hi”, I took my phone up and left the room. “Sorry about her. She’s just stubborn and needs to know everything. And overhears a lot of things”, I laughed.

“It’s okay”, he smiled. “She loves you and she worries, that’s normal.”

“She’s six, she shouldn’t worry. Anyway, thanks for talking to her”.

“No problem”, he smiled a little bit.

“Bye”, I took one last quick glance at his brown eyes on my phone and ended the call.

“Okay, young lady”, I said when I got back to Trixie’s room. “You can’t do that”.

“I know, but now I don’t have to worry”, she shrugged with smile on her face, drawing in the book like nothing happened.

“What exactly did he tell you?”, I asked.

“I think he likes you a lot”.

“Really? Why do you think so?”, I took my coffee and sat next to her.

“Because he said he worried about you when you fell down. And you worry about someone when you like that person, right?”

“You know, you can also worry people in general, because that’s what good people do”, I tried to drift her away from imagining that Monty likes me a lot.

“I think he likes you a lot. He gave us a lot of candies on Halloween and he missed a game to go to the hospital with you. Dad never misses game on tv for anyone and he loves me and mummy and Montgomery missed game for you…”

“Trixie, things aren’t that simple and obvious in real life”, I interrupted her.

“I don’t think I wanna grow up”, she sighed with tiredness in her voice.

Miscellaneous Batman headcanons as relate to my little fic universe, that may or may not ever come up because who knows:

  • In general when it comes to Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne people go in one of two directions. Either he is the mysterious eccentric always galavanting around and seeing him at a party is like a Bigfoot sighting, or he is obnoxious and spoiled but people let him get away with it because he has money. But then it’s always a plot point that he is surrounded by vapid gold diggers?? I call bullshit, maybe Bruce Wayne is actually a really nice guy and he’s charming and charismatic and people think he is kind of naive, and maybe his smiles don’t always reach his eyes but maybe he just seems kind of lonely and people appreciate that he makes the effort. Maybe the women of Gotham are not all money-grubbing and shallow and actually recognize a good guy when they see one.
  • That actually will definitely come up but it’s still on the list because it relates to the next bullet point.
  • Models! In general models start working at 16 and are done when they’re 23. Modeling is an industry full of very young girls getting chewed up and spit out and sorry but you will never convince me that Batman would take advantage of that even under the guise of Billionaire Bruce Wayne. If you are a model and you meet Bruce Wayne he will be nice and he will be respectful and honestly he will act like a protective older brother and it’s just??? Such a change of pace???? He’s so nice????? And if they aren’t happy with their agency maybe he will direct them to some Wayne Enterprises subsidiary, and maybe when some photographer is being a skeeve they let him know and he never works in that town again, and maybe if they end up needing to go to rehab he pays for it because he can afford it and actually he owns the rehab center and also he is the sweetest man alive. So maybe when they need a plus one to a fashion event, they invite Bruce Wayne because they know he won’t take advantage, and maybe Bruce has a list of women and their interests so if he needs a plus one and he knows Anita loves the ballet he will call her up and they will go and they will mostly talk about her new cat because his name is Chairman Meow and she loves him the most. And when people ask later if she totally banged Bruce Wayne she says yes, it was awesome, his dick was huge, because idk man sometimes when a guy is nice you just tell people that as a courtesy. Then at parties Bruce Wayne is just surrounded by models and everyone shakes their heads and tsks about it while they ask him how he’s been and show him pictures of their cats.
  • Which is not to suggest that maybe when they are older and in a more stable place in their lives they do not actually bang Bruce Wayne because they probably do. Who wouldn’t???
  • One day some little girl is worried that Batman might skip her neighborhood and she decides the best way to make sure he shows is to leave some cookies on the roof of her building because if it’s good enough for Santa then why not Batman? But she’s like six so of course they are basically inedible and they’re supposed to look like bats but they kind of just look like poorly drawn distant seagulls and she leaves them out with a note like “For Batman only do not touch!!” and in the morning they are gone and she is satisfied that Batman has been patrolling to keep her safe. And eventually all the kids are doing this in Gotham and it’s just a whole buffet of confusingly-shaped poorly-made attempts at cookies (you have to make them yourself the children decide because when you are a kid it is important to have Rituals). Eventually Batman can tell which neighborhoods are having the most trouble based on density of cookies per block. He doesn’t actually eat them because he does not want to get food poisoning and at least once he’s pretty sure those were made of Play-Doh but he takes them anyway because he knows it helps kids feel safe.
  • A criminal tries to leave out poison cookies once but not only does he not eat them, it is immediately obvious what’s going on because these actually look like food.
  • If the cookies are still there in the morning the children all have a crisis because something is wrong with Batman and the religious kids pray and the nonreligious kids do weird superstitious shit that they have convinced themselves is helpful.
  • Kids love Batman okay especially little girls, as a little girl who loved Batman I can confirm.
  • Some of them probably leave out drawings and he keeps them in the Batcave sorry these are just Facts.
  • Bruce Wayne’s doctor is paid a fortune to make housecalls and she is well aware by now that he is Batman, but she lets him claim he was bungee jumping or whatever the fuck it is he thinks is plausible because she knew his father and she remembers when he was a cute kid and honestly who even cares.
  • Bruce Wayne’s dentist has also figured out that he is Batman because jesus fucking christ we just replaced those crowns what are you even DOING to your TEETH half of these are just implants now you are going to need dentures by forty please god just wear a fucking mouthguard draw some scary fangs on it if you have to like he appreciates how much money he is making replacing this man’s teeth but even he has limits
  • Bruce Wayne’s personal accountant has also figured him out because his money just falls into a goddamn non-deductible pit and he kept trying to lie about it and then changing the lie around when he realized the answer he was giving impacted his return and I’m sorry Bruce I might not be rich but even I know that you probably did not spend several million dollars this year on cheesecakes covered in gold leaf and you accidentally filed a project cost analysis for a stealth jet in with your receipts but lucky for you I am NICE and I shredded it for you and also those projections were poorly done so hit me up if you want someone who actually knows how regression works buddy
  • Catwoman never tries to rob Bruce Wayne because cats know that he is a cool guy. Actually it’s Batman that is always nice to cats but they smell the same so the cats don’t know the difference. They’re just like naw girl, that territory belongs to a friend of cats, don’t trespass unless it is for scritches because that guy gives some good scritches.
  • Robin eats one of the batcookies once and regrets it for the rest of the night. Don’t eat cookies left outside by small children. Just don’t.
  • Bruce Wayne got a JD/MBA and graduated at the top of his class, I know people like the idea of dropout Bruce Wayne backpacking around and learning to punch people but he also does not want to tank his father’s company or let criminals escape justice through Bat-shaped loopholes?? He probably went to Yale and took max credits every semester and spent all his time studying and working out and then went off in summers to learn new and exciting ways to punch a dude. He had no social life he slept like six hours max every night and he ruined the curve for everyone, what a dick.
The Joker x Reader - “What Makes You Happy”

You do so many things for The Joker and what you usually get back is attitude. Very frustrating to deal with, especially after his latest stunt. Makes one wonder if it’s really worth it…

“Take whatever makes you happy,” Max points out towards all the riches in the warehouse as a reward for helping him. His two sons were captured by the SWAT team and you used everything you’ve got to get them out of jail; it was very hard since they were taken to Belle Reve but you managed anyway. No choice because you had only one goal in mind: to get your Joker back.

He is actually tight up on a chair in the back of the huge room, busted lip and a few bruises. Max thought The Clown Prince of Crime was responsible for his sons’ bad luck and captured him, refusing to release the prisoner no matter what. You don’t really mess with Max; he owns Los Angeles. That’s why you took it upon yourself to work something out.

“Whatever makes me happy?” you repeat, distrait.

“Yes. You know I mean it when I say it.” It’s true: Max is actually one of the few mob leaders that has what it’s called honor among thieves and you are counting on it.

“I want him!” you point towards your man.

“You want him?! Are you serious?! He’s an asshole!” Max snaps, not understanding what the hell is wrong with you.

“U-hum,” you nod your head, being the first one to admit it.

“He makes you happy?! Must be the worst boyfriend ever!”

“You can say that again…” you sigh, glaring at J that pretends not to notice your presence. Always such a cheer.

“You can literally have anything you want in here: money, diamonds, gold, weapons,” he tries to renegotiate. “Take your pick, as much as you want, whatever makes you happy,” Max punches his fists together, sucking on his cheeks.

“I want him,” you insist, really hoping you don’t have to start a war between LA and Gotham; this is precisely what you are trying to avoid.

“He’s a jerk !” Max raises his voice, annoyed you are so persistent in your request.

“Yeap,” you frown, wondering why in the world you are so stupid.

“Why do you keep on hanging in there by his side?! Jasper (that’s his oldest) always had a thing for you - it’s no secret. I would love for you to be my daughter-in-law. Just give up on this hopeless case, hm?”
You scratch your neck, debating, yet still…

“Max, you said whatever makes me happy. I returned your sons, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he huffs, upset you twisted stuff in your favor.

“I don’t think J’s at fault here,” you try to defend your boyfriend, even if you are 70% sure he was involved.

“Of course not,” Max sarcastically replies. “Forever innocent, right?”

“Please?” you interrupt, getting nervous a bit. “I just want him, nothing else you have in here.”

The Joker pouts, stretching in his chains; he can probably hear the conversation and would love to comment but doesn’t since he wishes to get out of there also.

“Seriously, Y/N, you have to reconsider your relationship,” the mobster growls and signals you to go for it. “The son of a bitch doesn’t deserve you!”

“I know…” you bite your lip, realizing he’s 100% correct. “Thank you,” you touch his arm, grateful he didn’t back out on his word.

You walk towards J and stop in front of him. Ahhh, he seems pissed. Why not?!

“Hi baby,” you smile, dropping on your knees in front of him, starting to unlock the chains.

“Hi,” he grouchily mutters, cracking his shoulders.

“Did you miss me?” you inquire, avoiding his gaze.

“You left me here for a week !” he blurs out and your hands stop. “What took you so long?! The Joker can’t be treated like this; they’re all dead!!!! And NO, I didn’t miss you!!” he hisses, enraged.

“You will do nothing,” you calmly reply, continuing your task. “LA is our main business partner. For once, just swallow your pride and let go. I fixed the mess so don’t ruin it for us, OK?”

“Whatever!” J grumbles, already having some ideas on how to get revenge.

“Did you get into a fight? What happened?” You are 95 % sure The Joker initiated trouble, Max wouldn’t have hurt him. Since J is who he is, the LA boss is aware what killing or damaging the King of Gotham would bring upon his gang.

“I got into a brawl with Jasper,” he sniffles, not excited to admit.

“Did you?!  I just returned him and his brother yesterday! That’s why they chained you?”

He doesn’t answer and you finally set him free. My God, does he seem bitter or what?! He lingers in his chair; surely wants to clear something up:

“I hate Jasper, he wants you for himself!”

“Are you…for reals?!” you pucker your lips, keeping it down. “We dated years ago, when we were in our 20’s. Does it…does it indicate you were involved with the boys ending up at Belle Reve?!”

“Maybe…” he snarls and gets up, pacing with you following closely.

“Jesus, J ! Do you know all I had to do to get them out of there in order to trade them for you?! Belle Reve is no county prison!!!”

“That’s your problem, not mine!” The Joker barks.

“Wha’ ?!” You are stunned; truly unbelievable!

A few henchmen open the heavy metal doors and you are outside at last. You grab J’s hand and he doesn’t squeeze it back.

“Hold my hand, baby, “ you urge him , aggravated by the whole crap that could have been easily avoided if not for his whims and jealousy.

“No, I don’t want to!” he almost yells.

“Hold my hand J !”


You let go and he continues to march towards the car where Frost awaits. You stay behind, disappointed and take a deep breath, returning to the hideout. The gigantic metal door is still opened and you sneak back in.

The Joker realizes you are not by his side anymore and looks behind to see what you’re doing.

“Y/N ?!?” he shouts when the door closes behind you. He gets exasperated and returns to the gate, banging his fists against it.

“Get back here, Princess !!!!”  J screams, not understanding why you’re acting up.

The small window at eye level opens up and Max’s face pops up.

“What do you want?”

“Give me back my woman!” your boyfriend commands, mad to the maximum.

“I can’t give her back: she’s not a hostage, she’s a guest. Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you so get lost!”

“Excuse me?!” J gasps, amazed by the insult.

“You heard me: beat it ! Unlike you, she’s welcomed here so she can stay if she wants to.”

“You can’t talk to me like this! I’m the King of Gotham !!  I will…”

“Tell someone that cares,” Max cuts his rant. “I am the King of LA; this is my territory. Disappear!”

“Give me back my woman! NOW!!!!” J is getting furious.

“Go away, son ! Before you regret it.”

“I’m not your son!”

“Thank God!!” and the little opening gets slammed shut. The Joker feels all the veins in his body about to burst open from the outrage building up inside him. He basically runs to Frost.

“Welcome back, sir!” Jonny attempts to talk.

“Shut up! I need a tank, ten grenade launchers and as many mercenaries as possible! Like, 5 minutes ago!!”

“Ummm… What for, boss?” Frost gets uneasy.

“We need to get my Doll out of there!”

“Is she…held against her will?” Jonny indirectly addresses the issue, already realizing what he’s up against.

“Nope, I fucked up, “ your boyfriend peacefully admits for a change. “So hurry!”

“Sir, this place’s a fortress: they have a lot of men and they can always get more since we’re on their ground.”

“Who the hell asked for your opinion, huh?” J criticizes his trusted henchman, holding his green locks in place because it’s pretty windy.

“Boss, I don’t think we should start a major conflict due to the fact that…”
“Goddammit! What’s wrong with everyone today?!” J loses his temper, irked like never before. “Just do what I say and don’t question me!!!”
Frost dials on his cell because he has no other choice.

“Sir, I am working on what you want, but in the meantime, can we PLEASE try another approach?”

“Such as?” The Joker grinds his teeth, unconvinced.


“Y/N? Are you awake?” Max knocks at the door. He allowed you to use one of the bedrooms since you’re exhausted.

“Yes, come in,” you invite him. No matter how tired you get, you can never sleep during daytime.

“These are from… that person,” he hands over the huge bouquet of flowers, huffing.“Knocked at the entrance and yelled to give them to his girl. I really shouldn’t have done it; I don’t like him.”

Just one glance and you know: there is a 0.1% chance the flowers are from J and 99.9% chance they are from Frost. How do you know? Because you recognize his style: every single time Jonny gets flowers for his wife, he gets a bouquet for you too, knowing The Joker doesn’t ever bother with such nonsense.

Your man sees the gates opening and you coming out with the flowers and grins, triumphant. His smirk quickly turns into a grimace of stunned vexation when you toss them to the ground, stomping on them and kicking them all over the place, then go back in before he can react.


Jonny won’t stop texting you, basically begging at this point for you to get out of the fortified warehouse. Apparently J is putting an army together to snatch you out of your hiding place; he even got a tank and grenade launchers coming to him by nighttime. He wants a war that makes no sense. But when does anything make sense when he loses his marbles?!

And it’s true you avoided a huge clash between the LA and Gotham clans. It was your hard work, tenacity and strategic flair. About to get blown up to pieces by your impulsive Joker. Uhhhhhhh, why did you pick him for whatever makes you happy?! So idiotic. And dumb. And moronic. And foolish.  You should’ve picked money and diamonds. ALL OF IT. Joke’s on you. Again. 100% on you.


J sees the gates opening and you emerge outside, grumpy as you can be, looking at the ground instead of acknowledging his approach.

“Are you done now?!” he yanks your arm, dragging you after him as you struggle to keep up, crabby to a whole different level. “Hold my hand!” the order demands and you don’t comply. “I said hold my hand, woman!”

You squeeze his fingers and still stare down at your feet. Frost notices the scene and gets his ass in the car, praying shit won’t go down. The Joker finally slows down a bit then halts, panting from the ordeal of your mutiny. He steps in front of your body and you avoid gazing in his eyes.

“Give me a kiss!” he growls.

“No!” you have the boldness to fight his desire.

“I said give me a kiss, I don’t want to repeat myself,” J licks his lips, mad you’re so feisty.

You reach over to give him a quick smooch.

“What the hell was that?! I said I want a kiss, not a mosquito bite!!”

You sulk even more and he places your hands around his neck, then his arms slide down on your waist, waiting. He comes half an inch apart from your lips and…Nothing.

“Today would be nice!” the Joker retaliates and you don’t really have a choice but to kiss him. For some reason, your fingers easily find their way to his hair, unconsciously caressing it in the process. He truly doesn’t want to purr but finds it impossible to hold it in. Makes you 78% weak in the knees, about 100% lost in his blue eyes and now you can’t even calculate percentages anymore. All his fault.

“Why do you aggravate me, Pumpkin?” he groans like he’s in a great deal of pain and you have the balls to answer.

“Because I love you and I do everything for you and you don’t love me and you just…” you whimper when he lets go of his embrace and has an outpour of words for you.

“ I don’t love you, hm???!!! Are you blind and deaf on top of it?”

You seem confused. Yuck, he has to explain. The Joker hates to explain his feelings: he doesn’t understand some of them himself, maybe about 63% . (Oh, how nice, you can calculate percentages again.)

“Every time I don’t kill you when you piss me off- and I must point out that’s on daily basis- it means that I love you. Every time another woman tries to get my attention and I don’t even care because I only have eyes for you, it means that I love you. Every time I take you on a “date -dinner-robbery” night and I am not out there creating chaos for Batsy because I know he gets bored without me, it means that I love you,” and J hauls you towards the car again, soooo upset he had to clarify his actions. “ I say it and show it all the damn time! Like I said, you’re just blind and deaf, getting old for sure since you’re pushing 40!” Only he could make something that was meant to be sweet into…THIS. “Why are you crying now, hm?!”

“You’re…you’re old, “ you wipe your tears because even if his declaration was so messed up you got the point anyway and your heart is about to explode with ecstasy. “You’re older so you’re pushing 40 more than me,” and you continue to bawl while he scolds you again.

“You have such a nerve, woman!” J shoves you in the car, irritated. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a sec!” he changes his mind before entering the vehicle.

You and Frost get anxious.

The Joker stomps back to the fortress, kicking the door with his right foot.

“What do you want now?!” Max opens the small window again, rolling his eyes at the green haired menace.

“Are we still on for next month? I want to close that deal.”

“Pffttt, yeah, of course. Make sure you show up for the meeting, Joker! And tell Y/N she can come and trade you in at any time, “ Max mumbles through his clenched teeth.

Whatever makes her happy,” J punches the metal gate, his arrogance rubbing the mobster the wrong way.

“She should’ve taken the diamonds!” Max closes the opening, being done talking to The King of Gotham.

Your boyfriend is 110.53 % certain you will never do that.

Yes, he can do percentages too.

Sort of…

 Also read: MASTERLIST

Dean/Cas: Bright Star

Professor!Cas AU inspired by this post. 1.7K.

“Dr. Novak?” Dean calls quietly as he opens the office door. It’d normally be rude to walk in like this but he figures it’s an exception with Castiel.

The room is darkened save for the sunlight streaming in through the wrap-around window, and from the desk pushed up against the wall comes a low, warm voice. “Good afternoon, Dean.”

God, that voice. Dean blushes a little, then stammers, “Hey, thank you again for, um- For letting me make this up.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel replies, and oh, so that’s what people meant when they said a smile could light up a room.

Okay, so maybe Dean’s got a crush but honestly, who wouldn’t after meeting the guy? With the gravel-rough voice and five o’clock shadow and nerdy ties that are always on backwards. He’s somehow hot and endearing all at once and Dean is basically a walking cliché.

To be fair, there were times when Dean felt like they could’ve been more in a parallel universe - one where they’re classmates, or childhood friends, or total strangers who meet on the street. Dean would have been infatuated either way and had something realistic to pin his hopes on.

Keep reading

Is it just me, or am I the only one that suffers and is pained to the point where I swear I can feel it physically whenever I happen to come across any an//ti-Tony Stark post? I mean, really, did no one watch any of the Iron Man movies? Did no one look in depth into what he was doing at all, and for what reasons he was doing it? (and I’m needing to keep this general, considering everyone seems to blame him for everything feasibly possible, even things that are stupid as all fuck to blame him for.)

I’m just so confused as to how a group of people out there can be so stupid, I guess? And yes, I’m being that straight and to the point about it, because there is no “That’s your opinion, this is my opinion” shit. There are the options of LOGICAL or ILLOGICAL, and I can assure you that those on the an//ti-Tony Stark side are falling into the latter category. Their arguments on why Tony is a ‘villain’ or an ‘antagonist’ lack sense, logic, and overall, are clouded with disillusioned bias and idiocy. I mean, come on, saying Tony was being abusive to Peter when all he’s been doing is being a mentor for him? Saying he’s oppressive, because he had the training wheels program and surveillance monitoring Peter? No, no, that’s called CARING. Why do I support that idea, you ask? Why would he go to such extremes? It doesn’t make sense for him to be like that, you say.

I’ll tell you why. What would you do if there’s a fifteen year old kid you care about running around Queens trying to be a hero like others he looks up to? You’d watch them, make sure they’re not getting into trouble, but you know you can’t stop them from trying to go out and be a hero, so you do the best damn thing you can, and that’s offering them more protection than any hooded jumper-pants-goggles combo ever could. Tony made Peter a suit to protect him because he cares about Peter. He wants Peter to be BETTER than he ever was, to not have to make the same mistakes Tony ever did. It’s mentorship at its finest, and if you can’t accept that, there is something severely wrong with how you perceive Tony Stark.

Tony Stark is the most intricate character in the MCU. He is. Why? Because we’ve seen him go through hell. Again, and again, and again, and him trying to fix things, trying to make things better, through his company, and an Avenger, through the Accords and through mentoring Peter. He’s made as many mistakes as any HUMAN person would do. Tony Stark is the most human fucking character I’ve ever seen, the most heroic and selfless. If you believe he’s anything but, then you’re allowing yourself to believe in lies instead of truth, really, you are. You’re so deep in denial you don’t even know it. Stop being biased. Stop lying to yourself. Stop being so stubborn, take a step back and just look for a minute. I reiterate, take a step back and notice how much pain Tony suffers through. How much he cares for all those he comes into contact with.

If he’s such a villain, why would he shut down all creations of weapons he thought he was making to protect his country? (No, he didn’t sell them off to terrorists, you idiots, my god, did you pay attention in Iron Man 1? That was OBADIAH. Jesus. The fact I have to include that is proof of how illogical an//ti’s arguments are.) Surely if he was as villainous as he’s accused of being, he’d keep it going, regardless of what he saw in Afghanistan, right? It’s what a playboy, a narcissist, a billionaire only caring about himself would do, right? But it’s not what happened. Nope. He shut it down, because he realised the legacy his father had passed onto him was corrupt. So Tony moved on to creating clean energy, technology, and generally assisting with tech that would better human lives.

If he’s such a villain, surely he’d not want to sign the Accords either, because he doesn’t want to be monitored? He surely would have wanted a ZERO ACCOUNTABILITY system so he didn’t have to ask to cross borders. So he wouldn’t have to care about collateral damage. He wouldn’t have wanted to create Ultron either, the idea that was to be a protector of the earth to help their efforts in keeping the earth safe now they were aware of alien threats? (Fun fact- Tony was not the only creator of Ultron in the movies. Wanda was too. As was Bruce. Extra fun fact. In the comics, Ultron isn’t even Tony’s creation.)

If Tony is such a villain, why would he have flown a nuke that would have wiped out an entire city and created nuclear fall out that would have lasted decades in that area and the surrounds out into space, therefore knowingly sacrificing his own life? These are just a few things you try to make Tony seem like a villain for doing.

These are just a few things that have been driven by the terror and pain Tony has experienced, by the hands of the ten rings, his team, Wanda and the like.

If Tony didn’t care, why is it that his worst fear is seeing all of his team mates dead? Why would he fear he would live and they wouldn’t? Why would it be his fault in his mind?

Because Tony always feels like it’s his fault, every life lost, every accident made. Tony cares that much that he beats himself down. ‘He only does things when guilt driven!!’ No. He feels guilt yes, and for good reason, because guilt is knowing that he couldn’t save someone, and he knows that’s not good enough. That this lead to this. Causation and causality, and Tony feels guilt because he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t smart enough. Why would anyone who doesn’t care feel guilty? I know a narcissist wouldn’t give a shit unless it was about themselves, so this guilt he’s experiencing only serves to express Tony cares the most out of anyone. Seeing this? I don’t understand why anyone can think Tony anything but what he actually is.

A hero. A mentor. A selfless human being, who feels more than he wants to show, because he’s been hurt so badly. Stark men are made of iron, and Tony tries to be strong, but like everyone….Tony Stark is human. And Tony Stark definitely has a heart.