#and Amanda has done some questionable shit that has pissed me off

[barisiscourtroom]

please don't send me Rollins hate

i love getting asks, i really really do, and i've gotten a lot of them on this blog (for me, at least, and especially considering the follower count), and i am so very happy about that!

that said, please don't send me Rollins hate.

the two latest asks i've gotten here (one in January, one today) has been very anti Rollisi and Rollins, and hateful to the point where i've felt too uncomfortable to post them.

i don't ship Rollisi, but i do love Rollins (even if i've been guilty of wanking about her (and Rollisi) on occasion - she's not perfect and neither am i xD), and i've been glad to see her the last few times she's been on the show, even when it's been Rollisi heavy.

so, to the anon(s) who sent those two last asks, i'm sorry i've given the impression that i agree with you on these matters when i really don't. i urge you to find someone like-minded to talk to, though. i absolutely think you're allowed your opinions, and i absolutely think you should have somewhere to voice them where they'll be better received.

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

[leah-halliwell92]

Hospitals and Injuries

Summary: Hank’s ex show’s up at the hospital he’s in after getting hurt on the job. Problem is, neither him nor Cole want her there and they sure don’t want mistakes to be made especially since Hank, and Cole, have an important person they have a question for.

Gavin stayed with Cole while Richard and Connor went to get them all some food. He’d stepped out to use the restroom only to come back and find a crying brown haired woman standing in the room. Cole looked like he was seeing red he was so angry. 

The closer he got Gavin heard her speaking to him.

“Baby it’s me...it’s mommy,” she said tearfully.

Gavin stopped in his tracks eyes wide. So this is Carol Jones formerly Anderson, this is the bitch the up and left after the accident. What in the seven circles of hell could she want now?

“What the hell are you doing here Carol?” A clearly tired and hurting Hank Anderson asked his ex.

“I heard you were shot,” she said plainly. 

Cole scoffed at that.

“You do not scoff at me young man,” she said angrily.

Cole scoffed again and wheeled himself out of the room leaving Carol to a very angry Hank.

Gavin had seen Hank pissed off but never had he seen the older man so angry he could kill someone, or looked like it at least. His brow was set in a frown, nostrils flaring as he listened to her half assed excuses and apologies. Gavin was so focused on Hank that he did not see Connor at the door. 

“If you are as sincere as you wish us to believe you are you’d not abandoned your family, you’d not abandoned your son,” Connor said brown eyes flashing in anger lips curled in a snarl, “You’d have stayed and loved your son regardless fo your relationship with Hank. Instead you left when things got hard, what sort of mother does that?”

Carol stared at Connor looking at him from top to bottom before daring to look affronted.

Hank groaned but lay back to watch Connor work a satisfied and proud half grin on his face. 

“You think its so easy don’t you?” She began her voice sounding shriller the louder she got, “To–”

“To what? Get help? Go to marriage counseling? Feeling like you’d lost something vital and feeling hopeless about it?” Connor said his voice over shadowing hers.

Gavin saw Richard’s stiff posture, where he stood with Cole at his side, and realized his lover and Connor had gone through some serious shit with their parent, with Amanda at least.

“What would you know about it!?” Carol asked looking triumphant when Connor stayed quiet. 

But Gavin knew that look and knew this woman was going to get the tongue lashing of her life.

“Have you ever been abandoned or left behind in exchange for something else? Something that is for some reason more important than you? Have you ever been replaced by a loved one while you still loved them in return?” Connor began calmly.

The calm demeanor threw her off but he continued before she could even answer. 

“Has this person or people done so repeatedly without remorse? Making you feel like a burden and nuisance for just being in the same room as them? That you are their blood and they just don't care?”

Gavin saw Cole take Richard’s hand and noticed the taller man trying not to cry his grey eyes shining and chin set to try and keep it from trembling.

“You tossed aside your family because you were looking for an out, because it wasn’t part of your grand plan,” he said making his way to Hank’s side shoulders set, measured stride and hands behind his back, “And now you have the gall to come here, three years after the fact and hope you can pick up where you left off?”

Gavin was surprised to see Cole let Richard’s hand go and wheel himself back in. 

“I think you need to leave,” the boy said fat tears running down his face, voice thick with tears, “We don’t need you.”

Carol looked like she’d been struck. She never expected her son to say such a thing to her.

“You should never have come back Carol,” Hank says softly, blue eyes cold as he looked at his ex. 

Gavin saw a minute shift in Connor’s eyes. Gavin nearly scoffed in disbelief, he’d never seen such united force as Hank and Connor. He’d gotten so used to them being a unit, as strong together as they are apart that he didn’t see how her coming in unannounced would do to the younger man. 

The woman looked between the father and son eyes growing wide as she saw Cole wheel himself to Connor and grab the edge of his grey work jacket. 

“You and him,” she gasped in shock.

“Don't act all surprised,” Hank said with a laugh, “You knew I was bi before we even married. Not that its any of your business who I'm with...I think you’ve over stayed your welcome.”

“You can’t do this! He’s my son!” She cried.

“Since when? You signed away your rights to him in the divorce remember?” Hank said his voice seeming to make the room shake as he thundered, “You decided to wash your hands of us when you saw how much work needed to be done. On us, Cole and his needs and all of the curve balls life would throw at us. He’s more Connor’s son than he is yours and he didn’t even birth him.”

Gavin saw Richard enter the room.

“You called for security?” He said voice cold as ice grey eyes flashing.

Hank took the initiative, “Yes.”

But before Richard could do anything Carol said, “No need for that, I’ll go on my own.”

She made to leave and turned to Cole, “I’ll always love you Cole.”

“Then you’d never have left,” he replied his grip getting tighter on Connor’s jacket fearing she’d tear him away from his family. 

She left soon after that tail between her legs. 

Richard approached Cole and wheeled the boy out saying, “We’ll go get get some air.”

Gavin followed after Richard leaving the couple in the room alone to talk things out. He knew Richard was going to need a day or two off from work after what they all just heard. 

Connor’s posture remained stiff as he focused on his breathing. He felt Hank’s gaze on him as he struggled to adjust himself in his sitting position. Connor seemed to snap out of it enough help Hank get comfortable and made to leave when Hank’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“You know I love you right?” 

Connor turned to look at Hank and gave a half hearted nod. He does indeed know but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to hear it every once in a while. The way he’d come into Cole and Hank’s lives had not been ideal, the evolution of the relationships had given him something he never thought he’d have. The younger man had suspected Hank reciprocated his feelings, they each had done their fare share of hinting at it for the past year only saying the words a handful of times.

Despite this Connor felt that given a second chance to have his old life back, Hank wouldn’t hesitate in getting back together with his ex if only for Cole to have his mother.

“Come’ere Con,” Hank said softly a tired grin on his aged face.

Connor complied quietly and made his way back to Hank’s side.

“I know that look,” the older man said pulling a hand from behind Connor’s back, with his good arm,  to kiss the back of, “Did you really think I’d take her back?”

“She’s Cole’s mother,” Connor said with a small noncommittal shrug. 

“Yes, a mother that gave up her son the moment things got hard,” Hank grunted in distaste before looking at Connor in pure adoration and saying, “You’ve been there from what feels like the very beginning. You’ve been my partner for three years. you’ve been there from the moment he was taken into therapy and have pretty much never left his side or mine since.”

Connor’s chin trembled as Hank ran his thumb over the back of his hand. 

“You’ve been my partner, my friend and my lover for the past two years Connor. I can’t begrudge the rather unsettling feelings that popped up from having Carol reappear out of nowhere. We will be talking about that going back to her thing when I get out of here,” Hank said gently but sternly, “For now though I’ll settle for asking something important.”

Connor looked at Hank in shock, “What?”

Hank gave Connor a loving grin and said, “Cole wanted to be here to help but kid needs a breather after being caught off guard like that.”

“You getting emotional in your old age Hank?” Connor said teasingly as happy tears fell. 

Hank huffed and thumped Connor in the stomach. 

“Yea yea laugh it up,” the older man grumbled, “You gonna let me ask my question now?”

Connor laughed and nodded.

“Will you marry me?” Hank said straight and to the point, “If need be I will ask again this time with the ring and kid there to also ask his own question–”

Connor leaned in and kissed him effectively shutting Hank up.

“Does that answer your question?” Connor said lovingly.

Hank gave him a half grin and pulled him back in for another kiss. 

Both men lavished in their quiet moment enjoying feeling that their union was finally going to be made official.

Poor Connor would effectively, and probably, be in need of some CPR, much to Gavin’s delight, when Cole asked him to officially be his dad. But that is a story for another time. 

[blue-bird-kny]

Physical Affection: Prompt 16 Kissing Knuckles

You all have spoken and here he is! Finally some Genya on this blog, I hope I did him justice~Amanda

Warning: Swears, Angsty and Fluffy kinda shit, Spoiler Warning!

( 1.2K words)

No matter how much time passed, Genya still was a little hesitant around you, hiding himself away in his training far from where you could find him. Not because he didn’t trust you, there wasn’t a living human he felt more comfortable with, but because he hated watching you worry. Only once had you trained with him (after a lot of begging) and it didn’t go well. He hated how your pained eyes watched  as his spent body pushed itself past a point that even he knew was dangerous, watched the anguish he was causing you. That was the only time you’d ever fought so intensely with one another, a screaming match lasted for more than just a that night and had the potential to end your relationship had you not loved each other so much- it was definitely a rough patch to get through. You couldn’t understand why he sacrificed so much of himself, why he couldn’t just be a little selfish so as to rest. Genya couldn’t allow himself to stop though, not for his sake or for yours; he’d do anything for you, including protecting you with his life and that required him to be strong. Now, after he disappears without a word before you wake and returns sweaty and exhausted, all you say is “How was training?” receiving only a curt nod as a reply every time.

You wandered the corridors all afternoon, peaking your head into random rooms from time to time in search of a certain Shinazugawa. You knew Genya had training this morning, but it was almost sunset and still you hadn’t seen him. “Where the hell are you?” your thoughts swirled with a mix of frustration and panic, he was never out this late and at the very least he’d have eaten lunch with you and the others. Consumed by the scenarios playing in your head, you ran flat against a hard pillar that towered over you- the pillar being your dear brother-in-law. “Ah Sanemi! I’m so sorry!” you apologized, quickly bowing over and over again. Genya may not voice it, but you know how much his brother means to him and because of this, you’ve always tried to gain his approval or any sliver of acceptance from the Hashira. Yet as you stare up at his menacing glare, you are reminded that Sanemi was an even harder wall to crack than his younger brother. 

“Oi! Stop apologizing, brat! It's obnoxious” he complained, halting your movement. “What’s got you in such a hurry anyways, need to take piss or something?” he scowled as his large amrs folded in front of his chest, “No actually I was looking for Genya...have you seen him?” you doubted he actually knew but you were desperate at this point. “That brat? Yea I heard he’s been holed up the training room at the other end of the estate” his response was nonchalant but it was music to your ears. “Thank you!” you moved to rush over when Sanemi’s palm gripped the top of your skull. “Wait a second! Shit it’s not like he’s dying”  he grumbled with a solid, painless grip on your hair. ‘Go easy on the kid, he...he needs you around. You’re all he really has.” his eyes never reached yours but the slight pink on his cheeks brought a smile to your lips. “Don’t get the wrong idea though, if you ever tell him I said that I’ll carve your tongue out, damn it!” he wiggled you around like a rag doll before releasing your tresses, leaving without another word. “What a softy”

Loud grunts from the other side of the wooden doors filled your ears as you reached the room, your arms immediately reaching to slide them open. Your orbs widened as they fell on Genya, fist bloody and purple, wreaking havoc upon a wooden dummy and, if the mess is anything to judge by, it wasn’t the first one he’d hit. A booming crack rang throughout the room as wooden shreds scattered about, falling like wooden flakes. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Genya reaching for another dummy, “Genya stop!” you yelled, throwing yourself between him and the dummy, his fist halting centimeters from pummeling your face. “No one called you here shitty women '' he protested without lowering his arm, his gaze boring into your eyes. “What the hell are you doing?! Genya I get you want to work hard and I can’t change that, but you’re hurting yourself! This isn’t healthy” you pleaded, “please just listen to me” you held his fist, not carrying that his blood was staining the clothes you wore. “I don’t fucking get it” he started sourly, allowing you to hold his hands, “no matter what I fucking do, how hard I train, I still can’t compare to those jackasses with their breathing techniques. Compared to them I look like a weak idiot” he seethed. You lifted his chin speaking softly, “Genya you don’t have to be like them to be strong, you’re the only person who can do what you can. I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side protecting me because I believe in you Genya, one hundred percent I believe in you with everything I have”

You were quick to catch the stray tear that fell down his cheek, “This sucks” he chokes, “Sometimes life feels like it does, but things always get better”. “Lets go get those hands bandaged and you in a bath, you smell” the fingers pinching your nose distorted your voice a little, but it was enough to make Genya blush, “Shut up!”

The steam rolled off the water filling the room in its delicious warmth, “You should get in while the water is still hot” you urged grabbing the shampoo and a fluffy towel, placing them at the edge of the bath. Genya watched you expectantly as if waiting for you to do something, “What?” you questioned. Genya’s cheeks blazed red, his eyes not reaching yours as he stuttered, “Turn around if you want me to get into the water, dumbass”. You stared for a moment before turning around, “But I’ve seen you naked more than once” you laughed. Some seconds passed before you heard the plop of Genya’s body submerging itself into the warm water, “Done” he gurgled from underneath. “I’m not a kid Y/n, I can bathe myself” he squirmed as you squeezed the bottle of shampoo into your palm, “Yea but everyone should be spoiled every once in a while”.  You took your time scrubbing his dark curls and rubbing the soap into the shaved sides, the slight brush of your nails over his scalp had Genya almost moaning in content. A warm silence took over the atmosphere, only the splash of water could be heard as you rinsed the suds from his skin and scalp.

“Let me see them” you whispered cooly, disrupting the still air. Genya’s heavy lids fluttered open to find you now next to the tub, the medical kit open on your lap. Shyly, Genya placed his abused fist in your care, wincing every so often when you dabbed the scabs with antiseptic. “You don’t have to tell me everything all the time,” you started, peppering soothing kisses to each freshly bandaged knuckle, “but I’ll be right here” you cupped his calloused palms with your own, offering a gentle smile and kind eyes as if saying “I love you”.  

You waited patiently in bed for Genya to finish and dress, cozy in your own pair of fleece pajamas. You felt someone slither in beside you, cautiously pulling you against their chest. Limbs tangled together, you both fell into a peaceful sleep, lulled away by Genya’s unwavering heartbeat and your even breathing.

Main Masterlist 

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 9

[ obsessed with how this has more chapters than the walls <3 wjhbejwehbjewhbjewh ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

“I’m gonna turn off my phone if people keep interrupting my conversations and naps,” Garrett said into the phone as he answered the call, even placing a hand on his hip as if Mark could see his annoyed position.

Mark chuckled on the other end of the phone, and Garrett could hear people talking behind him. “I’m gonna send you an address, and I need you to get here as fast as possible. You’re a specialist now, and you’re gonna pretend to help us figure out this case.”

Garrett paused, completely okay with lying to the authorities but also wondering what the fuck was going on. “Okay… why? Is this a ploy to spend more time with me? Mark, we see each other every day.”

“You said you like to watch investigations. I’m giving you the chance to participate in one.” Oh. So Mark was in love with him.

“I’m on my way,” Garrett replied without hesitation, hanging up and heading right outside for his car. He already knew where it was, so he didn’t need the address, and Mark knew that. He was probably just saying it because he was in front of people.

“Where are you going?” John suddenly asked, cutting off his mad dash for his car. He froze, and turned around with a sigh, like a teenager who had tried to run off before his dad could stop him.

Oh god, this meant he had to bring up the Angel Trap. “Detective Kerry failed her test,” he said, and neither Amanda nor John seemed surprised. “Hoffman’s at the scene now, and I’m gonna watch it. Don’t worry, I’m a good liar.”

John hummed at that, knowing he couldn’t stop him but clearly unsure about him being so close to the police. “Be careful. Try not to talk more than necessary. I trust you, but even the best can slip up.”

“Yeah, fair enough. I’ve gotta go, I’ll see y’all later,” Garrett replied, bouncing on his feet before John gestured for him to go, and then his mad dash continued, resulting in him literally throwing himself into his car.

He was like… ninety percent sure that he was speeding when he got on the road.

---

“Hey, sorry, John kept me up,” Garrett said as he met Mark in front of the building, now following him inside. “So I’m just a Jigsaw specialist? Shouldn’t I have equipment with me?”

“You don’t need it,” Mark replied simply, falling silent as they passed a group of his coworkers. “You, Mr. Whitlock, are just very good at your job.” He paused, looking Garrett up and down. “Is that my shirt?”

Garrett decided not to tell Mark that technically his title should be Dr., instead waiting until he introduced himself to literally anyone. “Sounds about right. I need gloves though.” And then he smirked at the question. “Yeah, it is. You probably shouldn’t leave your clothes in the base if you don’t want me to steal them.”

Mark was quiet for a moment before he sighed, pulling a pair of gloves out of his jacket as they reached the body. He handed them to Garrett, who immediately pulled them on and made a beeline for the corpse.

Of course some asshole stopped him.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men standing in the room when he entered asked him, making him very tempted to glare but instead he smiled.

This random guy was tall, but only four inches taller than Garrett. He had mostly slicked back brown hair, deep blue eyes, and what seemed to be a permanent scowl. He was, unfortunately, attractive. Especially in that suit.

Garrett looked past him, glancing at the woman who he’d been standing next to. She was shorter, with curly dark brown hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were a deep brown, and she looked significantly less asshole-ish than her presumed partner.

Finally, he turned back to the man, the small smile still on his lips. “Dr. Whitlock, I’m the Jigsaw specialist. I’ve been working with his traps since he first appeared,” he introduced himself, offering a hand for the man to shake.

He very, very hesitantly took Garrett’s hand, giving it a firm shake before immediately dropping it. “Special Agent Strahm, over there is my partner Special Agent Perez,” he said after a moment of inspecting Garrett, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the woman.

“FBI?” Garrett immediately asked, glancing over at Mark. He had NOT been informed of the fucking FBI, and he was going to have a long talk with him about that later. Garrett had already been accused of being Jigsaw once by the FBI, and he really didn’t need it again.

“When a serial killer gets this many victims, we tend to step in,” Strahm replied, looking up at the hanging body. “Besides, Detective Kerry was our link in the precinct. Of course we would step in when she dies.”

Fuck, Amanda really just HAD to screw him over like this.

“Did you know Detective Kerry?” he asked, looking back over to Garrett, who was now inspecting the wings on the trap, admiring how well he’d managed to get the hooks in her ribs.

“No, I didn’t,” Garrett answered, keeping his focus on the trap. “I only work with Detective Hoffman, occasionally Detective Fisk. I’m sure you know that officers tend to have a specific specialist or informant that they exclusively use.”

Wow. His first day as a fake specialist and he was already rocking it.

Strahm hummed at that, watching him do his “job” before offering his theory. “There’s another accomplice, other than Amanda Young.”

Garrett’s eyes widened for half a second, surprised that they knew Amanda was an apprentice. Did this mean they knew who John was too? Clearly they didn’t know him, or they would have recognized him immediately.

“What makes you think that?” Mark asked, stepping so Garrett didn’t have to. “This could have very well have been done by Amanda Young, or John Kramer-”

“John Kramer is a dying cancer patient, I highly doubt he would be able to lift anyone up. And Detective Kerry is almost twice the weight of Amanda Young, so there’s no way she could have hoisted her up,” Strahm continued, cutting Mark off.

Garrett clenched his jaw at the explanation, knowing Strahm was right not only because he was the one to put Kerry up there, but also because he had pegged John and Amanda exactly.

“Also, we couldn’t find a tape recorder like usual, and there was no jigsaw piece cut out of her.”

… Shit.

Garrett had wanted out of there so bad earlier that he’d completely forgotten to leave the tape, or cut out the jigsaw piece. Mark shot him a look, and he knew he was going to be in trouble later.

It wasn’t his fault that he liked for games to be fair and that it pissed him off when they weren’t. He just couldn't stand staying there for any longer.

“Kramer was a mechanical engineer, he could have made a pulley system, and both of them are only human, they could have simply forgotten-” Mark offered, only to be cut off once again.

“Jigsaw doesn’t ‘forget’ or make mistakes. This was someone else entirely, and I will find them.” Strahm sounded so confident, despite not knowing that he was standing right next to the man he was looking for.

“Well, that’s not my department,” Garrett spoke up, taking a few steps back to get a better look at the trap. “Don’t those mechanisms look like wings? It’s one of the few times a function of a trap has been both aesthetic and actually useful. I imagine they were closed when she was strapped in, and then they opened when time ran out, thus ripping out her ribs. What a way to go.”

He was technically talking to Mark as he explained the trap, but both of them knew he was saying it for everyone else, so it would seem more believable. It seemed to be working, because now someone was checking out the ‘wings’.

Strahm, however, clearly did not like him. Before the agent got the chance to start questioning Garrett though, he looked over at Mark. “Y’all got the pictures, right? We should probably get out of the way of the CSIs.”

Mark nodded at that, glancing back up at Strahm one last time. “I think it’d also be smart to get Officer Rigg out of here. If you need me when you get back to the precinct, we’ll be in my office.”

He put a hand on Garrett’s shoulder, a gesture he leaned into as much as possible, before gesturing for Rigg to follow them out and away from the body. Of course, they split up from the officer once outside, as well as going to their own cars with the silent promise that they’d talk at the precinct.

---

“You forgot to leave the tape AND the jigsaw piece?” Mark was apparently not giving Garrett a chance to recover, tearing into him the second the office door was closed. “You’ve been at this longer than I have, and yet here we are.”

“The game was rigged,” Garrett quickly replied in a vague attempt to defend himself. “I was rigged and I didn’t know and I don’t like it when games are unfair so I freaked out and-”

Mark cut off his rambling with a large hand over his mouth, since he was starting to get a little too loud. Garrett’s first instinct was to bite, but he figured Mark had enough wounds from his inability to keep his mouth closed.

Once Mark was sure he’d be quiet, he removed his hand. “Calm down. I understand. You’re only human.”

You shouldn’t say that to someone with a god complex. Luckily, Garrett kept his mouth shut.

“You should probably go check on Rigg,” Garrett spoke up, grabbing the folder with the pictures of the trap off the desk so he could at least pretend to be working. “He looked pretty shaken up. You don’t want someone like that getting in the way.”

Mark sighed, knowing Garrett was right. Rigg wanted to save everyone, and that would get in the way. “Right. You stay in here, I don’t want you wandering and getting lost.”

“Wow, so much faith in me,” Garrett teased, rolling his eyes before pulling Mark down into a kiss. He’d talk to him about the polyamory thing later, it wasn’t really appropriate here.

“Just stay put,” Mark reiterated as they pulled back, leaving one last kiss on the top of Garrett’s head before leaving the office, leaving him to his own devices.

… Yeah he actually didn’t want to get into any more trouble, so he sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk and opened up the folder, spreading the pictures out so he could “work”. Maybe he should actually get a job in this, it was kind of fun.

He was getting into the groove of things when the door opened. He looked up and behind him, expecting Mark, but was surprised to see Strahm instead. “Looking for Hoffman? Last I heard, he was dealing with Rigg.”

“He already has, he’s looking into something else right now,” Strahm replied, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Well that wasn’t good. Garrett settled back down in his seat, extremely aware of Strahm coming up behind him and placing one of his hands on the back of the chair to look down at his notes.

“You said you’ve been working the Jigsaw case since he first appeared, but I couldn’t find any record of you in the files. Care to explain?” Strahm asked after a tense moment of silence, but Garrett already had a response.

“I’m not employed by the precinct. The only person I officially work with is Detective Hoffman, so there’s no need to mention me. Besides, it’s not like I have a huge job, I just look at the traps and tell him what happened,” Garrett answered, humming softly as he continued his sketch of the Angel Trap.

So funny how he’d only had this fake job for like two hours and still had an excuse for everything.

“Fine, that makes sense, but-” Strahm put his hand on Garrett’s shoulder and Garrett, feral bastard that he is, reacted on pure instinct…

… And bit into Strahm’s hand.

For his credit, the agent didn’t scream, instead letting out a gasp that was somewhere in between surprised and pained. He probably didn’t want to make any louder of a sound so he didn’t cause a scene.

The problem with that was the fact that Garrett wasn’t letting go. In fact, he was sinking his teeth in even deeper.

There was blood now, Garrett could taste it, and it just made him want to stay latched on longer. Strahm was to the point of trying to pry him off while still being quiet, letting out little grunts of pain.

“I’ll fucking shoot you if you don’t let go,” he growled, but Garrett didn’t budge, knowing it was a bluff.

Fortunately for Strahm, the door opened, revealing Mark in the doorway. It took him a second to realize what was going on, but he was rushing over to the two as soon as it clicked.

At the sight of Mark, Garrett released Strahm from hold, wiping the blood off his lips with the back of his hand, only to lick it off his hand, still staring at the agent.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he warned, finally letting go of Strahm’s gaze and instead looking up at Mark. “I think I’m gonna go home now, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll see you later,” Mark responded, accepting the closed file Garrett handed to him and watching him head out.

Strahm was still holding his bleeding hand as he also watched Garrett leave. His face was tinted pink, which Mark found curious but wasn’t going to ask about, and blood was dripping through the gaps between his fingers.

“Let’s uh… get you patched up. I can at least get him to apologize later.”

Garrett probably wasn’t going to apologize later.

[storiesforallfandoms]

rescue mission ~ harley quinn;suicide squad

word count: 1576

request?: no

description: after the tragic death of joker, he entrusts one person to break his queen out of prison 

pairing: harley quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

Harley was sat innocently in her cell, reading a book and sipping her cappuccino, when the explosion went off. A group of people dressed in suits and masked swarmed her cell as she scrambled to the back, confused as to what was happening.

One figure led the pack. Their sites set on Harley as a female voice said, “Harley Quinn! Come with us!”

“No way!” Harley snapped. “Who the hell are you guys?!”

“We worked for J,” the woman responded. It was all she needed to say. Harley stood excitedly and followed the woman out of her cell and into a large truck. To the others, she demanded, “If anyone comes after us make sure you stop them! You heard the boss, Harley goes free no matter what, no one gets her but us!”

The men nodded and the doors to the truck slammed shut. The driver stepped on the gas and sped away from the prison. Harley watched as the prison guards came running out to see what was going on, only to be mowed down by Joker’s men.

Beside her, her unfamiliar saviour took off her mask. She was a young woman, around Harley’s age, and Harley couldn’t remember ever seeing her. Suddenly, her jealousy kicked in and she crossed her arms. “How did you say you knew Mista J again?”

“I’m (Y/N), I worked for him,” the woman responded. “Head of security at his club, head of operations when it came to his missions. He left this last one with me: free Harley no matter what the cost.”

Harley’s arms and face fell. “Wait, last one? So...so Mista J is really...”

(Y/N) sighed and nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately so. Waller got the one up on us, we didn’t see her attack coming. We hoped there was a chance but...” She trailed off, sparing Harley the gory details.

Harley stared out through the windshield, letting the news sink in. Of course, she had said goodbye to any chances of getting the Joker back when she helped kill the Enchantress. But when these people broke into her cell to save her, and told her they worked with the Joker, she had a tiny sliver of hope that meant he had lived.

She stayed silent for a long time, unable to speak. She was sure she’d start crying at any moment. She bit her lip to keep the tears away.

“Where are you taking me?” she finally asked.

“To J’s old hiding place,” (Y/N) explained. “We have your stuff there. When we get there, you can decide what your next plan of action is.”

Harley nodded. The rest of the drive was quiet as Harley looked out the window and tried not to cry.

They arrived to the old hideout soon enough, and the minute that the truck came to a stop Harley jumped out and walked away from her saviors. She looked around the hideout, all the memories of her and her lover running through her mind. She still couldn’t grasp the fact that Joker was gone forever. She was just wishing that this was all a bad dream and she’d wake up soon with her lover still here.

Her rescue team entered just after her, with (Y/N) leading the pack. Harley glared at her. She knew she had no reason to be so upset with this woman, after all she had saved Harley’s life, but something about her made Harley annoyed. She just wanted to ring this bitch’s neck, but she wasn’t sure if even that would cheer her up.

“Where’s my shit?” she demanded. “I want to leave this hell hole.”

“We have it all in your old room here,” (Y/N) explained. “We can equip you with whatever you need to get out of here.”

Leaving was her current plan, although she really didn't know where to do. She had been following the Joker for so long, she really didn’t know how to exist without him anymore. There was no way she could leave the hideout and be “normal”. Normal just wasn’t an option for her, it never would be again. Her only option was to keep running and hiding.

“I don’t wanna leave yet,” she shrugged. “I need to figure out my plan. And then I’m gone.”

“You can stay as long as you want. Follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”

“I know where the room is,” Harley hissed. (Y/N) smiled and shrugged, which pissed Harley off more. She glared at (Y/N) as she walked away, taking the familiar route to the room she once shared with Joker.

Walking into the room filled with their memories was bittersweet. Harley was happy to be back and to no longer be in prison, or under the thumb of Amanda Waller, but being there without the Joker felt wrong.

On the bed was Harley’s clothes from her mission with the Suicide Squad, including her handmade “Puddin” choker. She picked up the choker and held it close to her heart. She also picked up the only picture in the room, a picture of her and the Joker fleeing from a crime scene that she had taken from a newspaper and framed; the only picture of them together.

Harley looked at the picture for a long time, still clutching the choker against her heart. She didn’t realize she was crying until her vision completely blurred and her tears started hitting the picture. She sat down on the bed, still looking at the picture. She didn’t want to ever look away. She wanted to climb into the picture and be with her one and only again, forever.

~~~~~~

Hours passed, although it could’ve been days as far as Harley knew. She was still sat on the bed, not staring at the ceiling. There was no indication of time in the room, but it sure did feel like a long time.

A knock came on the door. Harley debated on telling the person to go away, but she didn’t have the energy to even do that. The person on the other side took Harley’s silence as an invitation to come in. (Y/N) stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“You want some wine?” she asked.

Harley sat up quickly and responded, “Fuck yes.”

(Y/N) chuckled and entered the room. She poured up two glasses and offered one to Harley. In one gulp, she downed the wine and offered her glass back to (Y/N).

“Slow down there,” (Y/N) laughed. “We have to make this bottle last, it’s the only one we have.”

“My life fucking sucks, I wanna get drunk,” Harley declared.

“You seem to have a pretty good life,” (Y/N) noted. “You know, despite being a criminal on the run. You caught the attention of a pretty powerful man. Even after he’s gone you’re guaranteed protection for life.”

“He tricked me into thinking he loved me so I’d help him escape, drove me to insanity, then left me to be captured by the stupid Bat. Among other things. He only loved my devotion to him, and now he’s dead.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you so upset over his death?”

Tears pricked Harley’s eyes again as she responded, “Because I don’t know hoe to exist without him!”

She wrapped her arms around (Y/N) and buried her head in her shoulder. (Y/N) awkwardly patted Harley's shoulder, unsure as to what to say or do. Luckily, Harley continued speaking before (Y/N) could.

“Ever since Arkham Asylum, I’ve followed Mista J. I’ve done everything he’s ever told me to. The only time I haven’t was when I was forced to fight that witchy bitch, and even then I was told what to do. I don’t know how to exist on my own!”

(Y/N) took hold of Harley’s shoulders and pushed her away. Harley looked at her, confused.

“You do know how to exist,” (Y/N) told her. “You did it before the Joker, and you’ll be able to do it again now that he’s gone.”

“I don’t think I can,” Harley responded.

“That’s the part that J manipulated in you, the part that would make you stay with him, but you are so much more than the Joker’s pet. You just have to get out there, leave all this behind, leave the Joker behind, and start a new life.”

Harley was stunned. This was the first time someone had ever given her a choice, to let her truly decide what she wanted to do. There were so many possibilities, so much she could do with her new found freedom.

She looked up at (Y/N) with wide eyes. “Will you come with me?”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the question. “Really? You didn’t seem to like me very much earlier.”

“You’re the only person who’s told me I could be independent, who has made me think maybe I could be. I need someone to help me start a new life, I want you to help me.”

(Y/N) smiled and took Harley’s hand in hers. “I can’t leave right now. I have some lose ends to tie up for J.” Harley’s face fell. “But, when all that is finished, I promise I’ll come find you.”

Harley’s face lit up with excitement and (Y/N) giggled when Harley lunged at her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

[connorandersons-blog]

“Why are you shaking?” -Convin or Reed1700 Connor is afraid of heights and something reminds him of it.

ok, so TW for PTSD, past temporary major character death, uh panic attacks, normal dbh stuff sajdas

Connor ran as fast as he could, ignoring the burning in his arm and the uneasiness in his stomach. He could hear Hank calling after him, but he didn't stop. He knew the chances of him slipping, he knew what would happen if he fell this high up. He already knew how that felt but he had to do this. Even with how fast Nines was he wouldn't be able to get up to the roof fast enough. 

Connor had to be the one to do this. He had to save the little girl. It was different but still too similar. Far too similar and it left his hands trembling. 

His foot slid and his heart stopped, but he regained his footing. Terror traveled through his artificial veins but he takes off again. He's so close, so damn close. 

He couldn't retreat, couldn't turn back now. There was a life at stake, one that couldn't be repaired after a fall. 

"You don't want to do this Ella! She's done nothing wrong." He yells, managing to make his voice sounds even. Not like his whole body was quivering and he's resisting the urge to stare down. The only reason he hadn't already fallen was due to being an android. 

Ella, the other android on the roof was looking as unsettled as Connor felt. The girl in her arms was crying but thankfully staying still. She was old enough to know how dangerous the situation was, but not old enough to fight back. "Get back! Please!"

He couldn't glance back, he couldn't look to see Hank standing on the edge. He knew the man wouldn't try to do what he's done, but he also didn't want him to even think about it. Nines was still trying to get through the other building and to the top. But Connor had to focus on this, on not falling. Not falling, not falling. 

"Ella, look at her, look at your daughter. She's scared, I know you're scared too and so am I. I don't like heights and I doubt she does too." He put his hands up and stepped closer, his foot almost slipping on the slippery tile. 

Ella looks down at the girl and her eyes are wild as she looks around. "She's always been mine! I didn't hurt her, I kept her safe! She wanted to be with me!" She shrieked and held the girl tighter. 

"Ella, look at your daughter, look at Carol, she's crying. Let me get her off the roof. If she falls she'll die. I just want her safe and then we can talk and get her back to you. Please, please let me help." He scooted forward again, hands still in the air. He saw Nines run out of a door three floors below, staring up at them. Connor shakes his head just slightly and almost whimpers when he feels a drop of rain hit his cheek. 

The chance of falling goes significantly up and he takes a shuttering breath in and out.  

"We won't hurt you and you'll see her again, I can promise you that. You will see her again." He takes a step closer and is within arms reach, but if he tried to grab them the chance of falling was too high. He had to talk her down. 

"No! No, she wants to stay with me. I'm her mother!" 

"Please stop! I want to go home!" Carol sobbed and Connor's eye widened. This wasn't good. The kid was becoming close to hysterics and Connor felt his own stress skyrocket. 

Connor took the chance, he ran forward and grabbed the little girl's arm. But Ella lost her balance and they all were forced over the side. Connor let out a silent scream and felt his heart stop as he felt himself falling. 

Then a hand grabbed his arm and he let out a loud hiss as it pulled somewhat, but he didn't let go of her. He didn't let go of Carol. 

He looked up and Nines held onto his slick arm tightly. "I've got you."

Connor nodded and looked down at the young girl who seemed frozen in place. "Carol, it's ok. Hey, just hold on." He called to her and saw the smallest nod of her head. "Good, ok Nines is going to start pulling us up. I need you to hold on tightly and don't let go." 

He tried to suppress the groan of pain that seared through his shoulder as Nines starting pulling him up. He couldn't look down again, he couldn't look down and see Ella's mangled body splayed across the ground. 

Nines got him to the banister and Connor used the leverage to pull Carol up, handing her to Nines first before having Nines help him over the railing. 

He doesn't let himself take a breath until Carol is safe and they are back at the station. Hank kept a close eye on him and Nines sent concerned looks his way, noting his stress levels and the fact that his LED hadn't changed from red. 

Connor sat down at his desk, staring past the plants and zoning out. His arm had gotten repaired but he couldn't tell the difference, he was numb to everything around him.

"Why are you shaking?" He can hear Gavin's voice and looks up blankly. 

"I'm sorry?" His voice is completely monotonous and Gavin frowns. He'd never seen Connor like this even before deviancy. His heart ached at the sight but pushed it down, glancing at Nines who shook his head. 

"You're shaking. You need some thirium or shit?" Gavin leans against Connor's desk, tapping on it just slightly. The sound resonates in Connor and he feels himself breathing in time with it. 

"I, I… no, I'm fine. Carol, she's alright, right?" He knew already, he had access to that information yet he still looked up at Gavin with pleading eyes. 

Gavin nods and slowly taps slower. "Yeah, she's ok. You did good Tincan, you did really good." 

Gavin looks at Hank who only frowns. He was the only one Connor told but Hank had no idea how to deal with this situation. How was he supposed to help an android after almost dying? Even supporting a human could be hard. 

"Thank you, Detective." He notices but doesn't seem to care when those around him wince. 

It had been over a year since Connor called Gavin detective without it being teasing or when he was pissed. Yet it came out effortlessly like all this time hadn't passed.

"Con, hey, Connor come with me? Nines and I wanna show you something." Gavin stands but doesn't offer his hand to Connor. Not yet, he could tell Connor wasn't ready to be touched yet. 

Connor stands and moved to fix his tie before silently following. He stands so stiffly and Gavin feels his heartbreak slightly. He knew what had happened on the rough, he knew Connor almost fell. But it was more than that. There was something neither knew that caused this. 

Nines followed and tried to connect with Connor but he didn't even react. He just stared straight ahead of him, trailing along. He didn't seem aware of where they were going until they came to a stop and he looked around. "What?" 

They are standing in a nature park, and Connor can hear a pond, probably manmade. It's oddly calming and he takes in a shuttering breath. "Why did you take me here?" The question is so soft and quiet that Gavin has to strain to hear while Nines heard perfectly fine. 

"Because you need it. Take a walk with us?" Gavin says, offering his hand. Connor stared at it, eyes widening. Gavin wasn't one to offer physical contact like this, it was mostly shoulder brushes, pats on the shoulder, simple small things. 

He takes the offered hand, feeling the warmth spread up his arm. He feels Nines brush against his other hand and he jolted. Unlike Gavin, Nines almost never touched anyone unless necessary. So he thought this was necessary. 

He took the hand, it was bigger than Connor's and a bit cooler too. Yet it still sent warmth flooding through him. 

They started walking and Connor's mind latched onto everything around him. The trees were beautiful shades of reds, browns, yellows, and some greens. 

The wind was blowing softly enough to ruffle their hair but not enough to make it truly cold. It smelled like fall, somehow, he wasn't sure exactly how. It was just the feeling that he had no idea how to describe other than the feeling of fall. It wasn't just the smell either, it was the energy of the park, the sounds of sleepy animals getting ready for the cold. 

The ground was still wet and he felt his foot slip. He gripped their hands and felt his anxiety spike. His foot slipping on the roof, the feeling of falling all those meters. Hitting… hitting the pavement but only before he uploaded his memory. The notification that he succeeded in his mission even as he died.

"Connor!" Nines voice broke through and Connor looked around. Right, he was in the park with Nines and Gavin. His whole body shook while Nines and Gavin stayed almost glued to him. Gavin gently rubbed circles into his back and Nines had his hand over Connor's thirium pump, but neither had let go of his hands.

"I'm sorry, did I stop walking?" He tried to go back over the lost time-three minutes-but nothing came up, it was just blank.

"Yeah, you ok? Your LED was solid red and you're shaking." The hand on his back didn't stop, but now it slowly moved up and down.

"Your stress levels have also raised to 95% and your thirium pump has increased speed by 67%. Is there anything we can do? Perhaps an interface?" Nines tapped Connor's thirium pump and Connor stared down at the ground. The wet, gravel grown, not a roof. 

Not concrete and he wasn't on a roof, there were no hostiles or children. It was just him, Gavin and Nines. "I, um. I was simply thinking about the case and little girl." 

He wasn't lying but it wasn't exactly the case they thought it was. His first-ever case, the first case he completed. The first time he got to talk to Amanda after a case and she was disappointed. The first time he died. 

"Con, hey, talk to us. We aren't going to judge, we just want to help. I… we care about you." Gavin mumbled and Connor looked up at him. He could see the clear honesty in his eyes, the way he kept close to Connor. 

Connor wasn't an idiot, he knew the signs but never thought it would last or go anywhere. He knew how close Nines and Gavin were, he didn't want to come between them. He'd never push them apart. 

He tried to read Nines but it was close to impossible. From his actions, he definitely was on friendly terms with Connor and was fairly protective of him. He had put himself at risk a few times for Connor's sake. He just couldn't tell if he was interested in him in that way.

"Yes, we both care about you. I believe talking about it could help." Nines started to move his hand away and Connor quickly let go of Nines's hand to press it back against his heart. "Connor, what happened?" 

Once he was sure Nines wouldn't move his hand away from his heart he took his hand again, needing the support. He was going to tell them. 

"I died." He mumbled, closing his eyes. He could still hear the little girls screams and Daniel, fuck he could still see his face. His eyes snapped open and he took in a quivery breath, pushing back the tears. "It was my first mission. A deviant had taken a human girl hostage on the roof. He had a gun and was threatening to jump because he was being replaced. He had already killed a few cops and the father." 

"I, uh, they had a fish tank and a fish had fallen out. I guess, well I always considered that fish the first life I ever saved. It was also my first act of deviance, I had no need to save it, but I did." 

"I was the negotiator, I managed to get close enough, but I, I messed up. He wasn't going to let her go." He clamped his mouth shut and choked on a sob. The two pressed closer and Connor hung his head for a second. 

"I was, I was so excited you know? My first mission, no more test runs. No more staying cooped up in Cyberlife. I thought if I could prove myself then they'd be proud. But I was scared, I was terrified of failing, of what that could mean. I couldn't show any of it, I didn't even know what I was feeling, that I was feeling." He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but it was impossible. 

"I-I killed him. I fucking… I killed him to complete my mission. I, um, I pushed her, the little girl, out of, um, back onto the roof and we fell. I fell. I had enough time to upload but I fell and then I hit. God, it hurt! It hurt, it hurts." He started curling in on himself and Nines easily moved to hold most of his weight. 

"I hit, um, I hit the pavement and I remembered the split second of pain before everything went out. Next thing I knew, I was in the garden. Amanda was there, she's always been there since I was first tested and activated. But she wasn't happy this time. I'm sorry-I can't." He shook his head and let himself fully lean into Nines. He registered a hand carding through his hair and soft voices but he couldn't see or feel anything. 

'You could have done better, but you did manage to save the girl. The deviant's life was no loss, do not pay it any mind.' Amanda's voice rang in his ears, the exact words she had said to him. 

'You will be reactivated, and this time you will do better. This was simply a test run, and there will be made improvements in your coding to make sure a mistake like that doesn't happen again. You know how costly mistakes can be.' 

He did, he knew what was at stake. Not just the human life but Cyberlife's reputation. Connor had to succeed. Not to mention how costly it was to make him. 

'You could have been and done so much more. Why did you have to choose this when it would have been easier to do what you were told?' 

Wait, what? No, that wasn't right. She hadn't said that! He was all he could be, what he should be. 

"Connor, hey come back to us. You're safe here, we'll protect you." Gavin's soft voice seemed to break through and Connor's eyes snapped up. He quickly moved away from both of them, putting his fists up. He had to protect Gavin from Amanda, from himself. 

"Connor, stand down. We are not a threat and neither are you." Nines's commanding voice had him finally snapping out of it. 

He looked at the two and felt his heart stopped. Gavin's eyes were wide and he almost looked scared, but of what Connor didn't know. While Nines looked upset and possibly even angry. 

Shit, he knew he shouldn't have told them, he knew they'd hate him. See that he failed from the start, that he couldn't protect himself. 

So he did what he knew best, he ran. He turned quickly and sprinted into the trees, dodging the trees as best he could. 

"Connor!" Gavin yelled but he couldn't stop. He scared Gavin. Gavin was scared of him and Nines was pissed. They were both so disappointed. 

Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him to a dead stop, flush against a solid chest. "Connor, I need you to not struggle." 

Like hell. He pushed against him, trying to find some way to break the hold. He knew Nines wouldn't hurt him but he had to get away. He needed to leave. "Please! Just let me go! I won't hurt anyone, please." He begged, tears flowing down his cheeks. 

The arms tightened around him and his breath caught. "I know. Connor, shh baby, I know. We aren't angry. We were just worried about you." Nines whispered. 

"No! No Gavin was scared, I'm so sorry. You're so disappointed, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I promise." He tried to kick away but Nines didn't budge. 

"Shh, he wasn't scared of you. He was scared for you. I'm far from disappointed, I was merely plotting how to enact more revenge on Cyberlife. Connor, no one is disappointed, please stop struggling." Nines kept him close, gently nuzzling at his neck until Connor went limp. 

Gavin caught up and stared at the two for a second, unsure of what he should do in the situation. He didn't want to set Connor off, they needed to get him somewhere safer. Someplace he couldn't hurt himself. 

"There we go, that's a good boy. We're both very proud of you, Connor. Please don't run away from us." Nines loosened his grip but kept his arms around Connor. 

Connor whined and felt his face flush slightly but it was overshadowed by the emotional drain. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. 

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry that happened and I'm sorry you thought I was scared of you. You've never scared me, Connor." Gavin reached out and at Connor's slight nod gently wrapped himself around Connor too. "We just want you to be safe and happy."

Connor nodded and felt himself sag against Nines once again. "I'm sorry." He mumbled again before wincing. Apologizing for apologizing, wonderful. 

Nines and Gavin gently hugged him as he calmed down somewhat. "There we go. Do you want to go back to Hank's or do you want to come with us? Either way is fine and if you want, we'll stay with you at Hank's." Nines's question came only after Connor's stress and dropped to 83%. 

"Um, with you? I don't want to worry Hank." The man had enough stress as is, he didn't need a traumatized android right now. "If that's ok. I'm sorry for being a burden." 

"No! No, Connor, we want you around. Come home with us." Gavin moved back just slightly and gently cradled Connor's face in his hands. "We'll keep you safe." 

Connor nodded and leaned into the touch. "Ok, I'll go home with you." 

[endearingsalt]

I’m rewatching Journey to Babel and I have a *lot* of feelings

and i also have pumpkin liqueur with ice cream and you should too

i have BIG feelings about the very first shot of sarek being one where spock and bones are in the foreground as spock tries to teach bones the ta’al and the two are doing their banter as normal. like sarek boards the enterprise probably knowing spock would be there, and there’s huge fanfare, all eyes on him, except for one person, and that person is his son, who’s too busy talking to his friend to fuckn bother looking up for him 

what kind of an asshole do you have to be to not return the ta’al, at all, ever, much less to your own child, like i don’t even fuckn care that they’ve been estranged for 18 years, what the fuck @ Sarek 

and jim and bones agree with me. they have that quick exchange as the tension grows and sarek looks away, and i’m RIGHT there with them because they KNOW what a big deal this shit is and right out of the gate for seemingly no reason this guy’s just gonna insult spock like that 

we see bones think about trying the ta’al for all of one second and then my boi puts his hand back down and i’m like good, he doesn’t deserve your well-wishes 

and when amanda comes up?? when sarek presents her to jim??? she brushes past spock without so much as a glance. i hate them both so much 

now. we all love to laugh about jim asking if spock wants to beam down to visit his parents and then having to get told that “.....these.....ARE my parents....” but i’d also like to point out that jim’s original plan was to have spock show sarek and amanda around, likely because of a mix of being the first officer + being a vulcan. when sarek asks for someone else, jim and bones make eye contact again, and this one is more steely than the last. they were surprised and annoyed at the unreturned ta’al, but they’re both straight-up pissed now, and they don’t even know the tea yet. i would like to suggest jim goes out of his way to point out that spock is both well-regarded and a fellow vulcan, all while also trying to give him an out for a few hours, since none of them are happy about being around this many politicians anyway, and there’s clearly something Up with these two specifically. idk i really like that the timing and tone indicates jim specifically chose to offer that to spock because of what had just happened. of course it really blows up in his face, but, well, how could he have known considering none of these people chose to fuckn tell him

on that note, damn, we all talk about this one, but what the hell was spock’s plan huh? did he think jim knew, somehow? did he think he’d have a chance to explain later on? did he think he could get away with no one ever finding out? was his sole purpose truly just to sow chaos? did he try to find some way to explain all this beforehand and just kept falling short until the deadline was upon him and he just went in blind hoping for the best? not very logical in any case but wow is it a mood 

the first. and i mean THE FIRST FUCKING THING amanda says to spock is “after all these years among humans, you still haven’t learned to smile” okay lemme just break down all the ways i’m in a damn rage over this 

FIRST OF ALL, when they + jim arrive in engineering where spock is, he doesn’t seem to have been aware they were coming, and his back was to the door at the time, which means they effectively snuck up on him. he gets up, turns around, and settles into parade rest, as he do. he doesn’t acknowledge them beyond that, and jim continues the tour past him, graciously attempting to end the brief and unexpected encounter smoothly. need i remind us all that both sarek and amanda actively chose to not acknowledge spock before this; indeed, sarek actively insulted him twice, and amanda settled on simply acting like she’d never seen him before in her life. they set the tone here. his reaction in this scene is simply falling in step with what they had set, and is actually on the polite end of that. 

amanda breaks this no-contact with an immediate insult both to spock as an individual and to his vulcan side, which she knows spock highly values. furthermore, her exact words are something many of us have repeatedly heard. they are invalidating words that seek to shame a person for not presenting what they have deemed the correct emotion at the correct time. they’re invalidating enough when used on a person who is actively happy and just doesn’t show it in the way some are used to seeing it, but that isn’t what’s happening here. no, here amanda knows exactly what she and sarek have done to alienate spock just in the last 5 minutes, let alone the last 18 years. she knows precisely why he would be on edge here, and seek to avoid another encounter. she’s fully aware of his discomfort, and chooses to make her first words to him scolding ones. 

his response is measured, and scans as normal, but there’s tension in his tone, as there rightfully should be under the circumstances. and yet her next words are scolding him for not visiting her, despite the fact that he and sarek are estranged and she knows that, despite the fact that she’s given him not a single fuckn reason to do so in both scenes she’s been in so far. 

can we talk about “my wife, attend” and “mr spock, a moment if you please” and the fact that the parallel is completely obvious and jim is really clearly doing it so that spock can show off after it became clear that just walking past wasn’t gonna be an option (thanks, amanda). that ALSO immediately blows up in his face, but dammit, he’s trying. i feel for jim here honestly. he keeps trying to help spock out and at every turn he accidentally does the worst possible thing. anyways spock takes off, thankfully, and i sure hope the man gets to go have a solid meditation time before the dinner later, because Lord knows he’ll need it 

so then sarek, that little sniveling bitch, bows out on the rest of the tour. because “offense is a human emotion,” but pettiness is SURE vulcan. the humans are now alone. important to note that jim did not hear what amanda and spock just said to each other. all he saw was that the second amanda had an opportunity to speak to spock without sarek hearing them, she took it. he therefore likely thinks (correctly, to a degree) that he and amanda are on better terms. he’s also more comfortable with her because she’s human. so the first thing he says, after finally letting himself actually show some of the massive discomfort he’s been feeling this whole time, is “i don’t understand him,” meaning sarek. he’s hoping to gauge amanda and get some insight on what the HELL is wrong with sarek. and he and amanda hit it off! amanda is charming! they’re cute together! meet the mother-in-law is going well, and based off the way amanda says “he is a vulcan; i’m his wife,” it seems pretty clear that amanda is woke to The Premise from the get-go. meet the son-in-law is going well. jim then tackles the big question. the father/son estrangement. 

“spock is my best officer. and my friend” says jim immediately, because amanda’s response indicates the sarek isn’t wrong for the way he just treated spock, and wow is jim not gonna stand for that for a second. we love to see it. 

amanda is wearing this “concerned mother” expression as she talks about how it’s “hard” for spock to be split between humans and vulcans, as if she ever actually understood any of that when she so clearly doesn’t. 

let me. let me get this straight. let me just. let me really just. get this hammered in here. “it’s logical,” says amanda, for sarek and spock to have not spoken as father and son for 18 years, because spock chose starfleet, and sarek had wanted him to carry on the family tradition at the VSA. sarek is so fucking upset that spock chose a different career than the one he wanted him to have that he cut contact for nearly 20 years, and, amanda says, “it’s logical.” “it’s the vulcan way.” “it’s a better way than ours, but it isn’t easy.” what about this is the vulcan way? what the fuck? what the FUCK. 

anyways. stubbornness. a human trait. that grin. yeah, these two are tight now, as shitty as amanda may be. 

this post is about spock’s family life so i won’t rant about the colored marshmallow wine. 

jim: *kicks back a shot as he has to listen to sarek speak words*. what a mood 

bones: now’s my time to shine. my time to learn all the dirt on spock. 

spock: no, please, no 

amanda: now is my time to shine. my time to sow chaos 

this is it. this is why spock tried to not let bones know who sarek and amanda were. this was it all along

“you embarrassed spock this evening” says sarek, to amanda, when they are alone. “not even a mother may do that. he is a vulcan.” i’m gonna cut a bitch, i swear, this guy, this guy thinks telling your son’s friends about a childhood pet is worse than not returning the ta’al, what the fuck. don’t act so fucking high and mighty sarek. don’t even start with me. 

TO AMANDA’S CREDIT, she needles sarek about how he actually is proud of spock and just doesn’t want to admit he’s been wrong for the last 18 years. 

their marriage is cute i’ll give them that 

“threats are illogical and payment is usually expensive” IS a baller line, even though it comes from sarek. see this is the thing, sarek and amanda both have redeeming qualities. i can’t quite manage to hate either of them completely. which is what makes this episode so good. 

mm. i really like how bones just like, really tries to avoid outing sarek as a suspect, and just looks to spock instead. we love to see it. 

“sorry, it couldn’t have been me, i was busy having a heart attack”

“sorry, can’t argue, am having a heart attack now”

the vulcan way is to time heart attacks to the most dramatic times possible

spock: jim, please, please stop trying to make me feel feelings about my father. i am NOT prepared for that shit right now, for the love of surak. 

also, this episode said “uhura is a vital member of this team” and we love to see it

someone get amanda a damn chair, her husband’s in the middle of dying 

spock: wow. i was dreading this trip but i did not anticipate having to deal with the fact that i still care about my shitty father 

OOOOOOOOKKKKAAAAYYYY. when spock puts together the plan to use the drug on himself and then give the necessary blood to sarek, amanda is the one to explicitly put it together. when spock says yeah, still under the “emotions? none here, all i have is Logic,” we cut back to amanda, who goes through several emotions in the close-up. she knows. she knows spock’s quick willingness to take the risk is stemming from care for sarek, despite the fact that he’s been an extremely shitty father. she also looks maybe a little guilty. and i hope she feels that way. some guilt would do her good. 

this whole episode really sucks for bones. he’s just trying to be a decent medical practitioner and no one is respecting that. 

oh here’s kirk’s ass

gosh this fight scene is fucking outta nowhere. i fucking love this show. it’s weird as hell. what the HELL is this fighting technique. and passing like that? i’m losing my mind what the hell 

THAT SAID this episode REALLY sucks for spock. homeboy’s already going through some massive shit and then jim gets critically injured. we hate to see it 

oh no. oh shit. here it comes. the worst scene. the scene that makes me want to throw things at the screen. here we go 

FUCK YOU, AMANDA. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU, AMANDA. FUCK. YOU. 

this isn’t even a vulcan-based decision. This is the kind of decision a human in the same situation would also have to make. spock CANNOT hand over command right now. there are dozens of delegates on board. the captain has been critically injured. there is an extremely dangerous, unidentified ship just outside. there is so obviously a scheme at work. there is immediate danger to hundreds of individuals, and as first officer, he has a duty to the ship. he literally says all this. he literally says that he would do it if he could without abandoning everyone else. this decision is logical, but it is not devoid of emotion. he states that clearly. but does amanda listen? no. she doesn’t. her ears are closed in this conversation. she only has one goal here: shame spock into obedience. and when he refuses to yield, she gets aggressive. 

i get it, okay. i do. this situation is awful for her. she’s stressed to the max. she has an outburst, a mistake. but what she does isn’t acceptable. it’s awful, it’s horrible, i hate her for it so much. 

i have more i could say on this subject, but this post is about the whole episode, not just this scene. 

“we cannot disregard that philosophy for personal gain, no matter how important that gain might be.” your 1 is showing mr spock. also i love you. i’d ask you to marry me but you’re already married 

oh, i hate her. OH, i hate her. 

the gaslighting, folks!! the shaming!!!! the emotional manipulation!! i hate it!! i hate it so much!!!! OHHHHHHH MY GOSH I HATE THIS 

oh wow i’m gonna have to make a second post just about this scene later. i can’t type it all now. i don’t have time and also i’ve get too emotional 

spock can’t even talk it out with jim because jim’s busy being near death in the same damn room as his father, and he can’t go to bones because bones is busy trying to keep them both from dying, and he can’t go to uhura because uhura is busy tracking the threat.........ohhhhh i hate this so much 

the hand he puts up against the door that will ultimately mirror wrath of khan, only this door isn’t clear, and the gesture isn’t returned....... i hate this so much 

jim, finding out about all the shit that’s gone down while he’s been unconscious: can’t damn a man for his loyalty. YES JIM YES. this is what we love to see. everyone else sees spock’s actions so far as disloyal to his father. only jim has seen them as acutely loyal, to starfleet. AND he’s willing to put himself in danger to let spock off the hook. 

spock, looking from jim to bones back to jim: mm. i sense bullshit. and you know what? plausible deniability. yeah sure i’ll go save my father’s life. 

I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT, that the plan jim made upon waking up assumed spock was overly cautious in thinking scotty shouldn’t be put in command. he intended to let scotty take over as soon as spock was gone. then. after a mere few seconds on the bridge, he changes his plans. spock had been right. spock was RIGHT to stay in command. VINDICATION.

okay i don’t even think amanda should be in the room right now but she should CERTAINLY have a damn chair

spock, in the middle of an operation: okay WAIT actually i just figured it ou- *is sedated* this is just like hermione getting petrified 

wow this episode really sucks for bones. the poor man’s doing surgery on vulcans in the middle of a space battle. 

jim, immediately: is spock okay. don’t give me this bullshit is hE OKAY YES OR NO

the end scene is sweet. EXCEPT FOR SAREK BEING A BITCH, AS HE FUCKN DOES. “one does not thank logic” fuck you man

“Logic, logic, FUCK your logic” - let amanda say fuck edition 

we do like to see sarek finally speaking to spock of his own free will, but he’s still an asshole 

okay this bit with the triumvirate. very cute. a nice ending. we need some release after that damn episode. 

i can’t believe i made it to the end. i started at 8:15 and it’s 10 now. 

[lou-is-creative]

Unpredictable (pt 8)

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ: 6 Underground

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: Four/Billy // Eight/???

ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ: Four/Billy x male!Oc

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7: Other plans

ꜱᴏɴɢ:  Death of me - SAINT PHNX

𝔹𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥!

AN: Pic isn’t mine, sorry this took so long, have fun!!

TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!! VIOLENCE !!!!!!!!!!!!

Eight had stopped his car in front of a small bridge. He and the others observed the scenery quietly.

Six security men were eying the car suspiciously, while holding their guns a little tighter. One of them, who seemed to be a little bit lost and unsure, was pushed forward to do a check up.

The ghost opened his window, putting on a slightly frightened face to maintain his image.

"Hello?"

He greeted the stranger and the other looked quite happy to not be the only one who didn't quite know what was going on.

"Who are you and what do you want? This bridge is private property."

"Uhhhh I am.. Jacob, I want to visit Amanda... But I guess I'm at the wrong address?"

The man in front of him started to relax a bit.

"Oh okay, you're Jacob. Well that is something different. We were told that you'd come here. Not exactly that you'd come with such a cool car, but we knew you'd come"

Eight smiled, genuinely happy he found someone else who liked his car. Five groaned.

"You like it? It's brand new."

"It looks very nice. And- oh, you have a watch in the same colour?"

The guy asked and the proud owner of the matching watch on his wrist looked at it, smiling cheekily.

"I do, yeah. Thought it looked great together."

Now even the guy with the gun started to look rather interested than business like.

"It does, so what model is it exactly?"

He let his gun sink and eventually even put it away to take a better look at the interior design of said car.

"Mercedes C-class, AMG of course. Engine too. Maybe I can show you later, if we have some time left"

The boy in the car let the guy look, completely aware of what he was doing, as he heard a familiar voice speaking. Familiar, but not necessarily liked.

"Eight stop talking about your fucking car, no one cares."

Not letting anyone see how pissed he was, the newest member of the group just smiled it off.

"You'd do that? It would be awesome."

"Of course, but only if I have the time. Could be that I gotta rush back, if you understand. But it would be nice for next time!"

He looked at his watch shortly.

"God, I really have to go, can I pass? I swear we're gonna talk again after all of this but I really have to leave."

Eight raised his hand to say good-bye and the security man stepped aside, giving his colleagues a sign to let him pass.

"By the way..."

Eight started his engine and looked at the security man one last time, smiling softly.

"Keep that up, you're doing a good job. I was shit scared to be honest."

And the smile he got back was the most sincere the man with the gun could offer. A quiet 'thank you' left his mouth before Eight passed the bridge. It was one of his talents to know exactly what a person needed to hear.

"Thank god you're finally done."

He heard Five groan and his hands immediately clenched around the steering wheel.

"Okay, that's enough. I know exactly how to do my job and I don't need your comments. So watch your mouth and focus on your own task."

It got very quiet for a moment in the room in which all the other ghosts were in. Everyone was holding their breath.

With Eights natural born gift, to know exactly what others wanted to hear, it wasn't very hard to determine ones weak spot. It does sound like something very practical, something good even, but paired with his lack of impulse control, it did more damage than anything else.

Just like it did at this exact moment. He started a war.

"Listen here, you little brat. If you knew how to do your job, I wouldn't have to say anything."

Five fired back and Four got tensed. He knew exactly how much of a bad idea it was to refer to Eight as little.

"Did you just call me little brat?"

"Are you deaf?"

"Oh no, my ears work very well I just figured you might be a little smarter than that. But seems like I was wrong."

"My mother told me to always tell the truth. And what are you besides an annoying little boy with a weird obsession with his car?"

"I think you need a snickers. You're being a bitch."

Before Five could say anything, One interfered.

"Concentrate on the mission, Eight. You can continue your quarrel later."

"She started it."

Eight stated.

"God how old are you two, twelve?"

Seven interfered and Five snapped once more.

"He is."

"Oh don't confuse your mental age with mine, honey."

"SHUT IT. Both of you."

The ghosts turned around. Four, who was sitting in the very back of the room, couldn't hold it anymore. He hated fights. They were stupid and totally unnecessary. And they also reminded him a lot of the things that happened in the past. He didn't need to see people fighting. Again.

Silence spread and Eight passed the second security stage. He pulled his car over to the parking spot he was guided to and stopped the engine before smoothly getting out of his car.  He didn't need to turn around to know that his girlfriend would rush over to him and nearly suffocate him with her hug. But he just chuckled lowly and turned to wrap his arms around the petite girl, pulling her close.

"I'm so happy to see you again."

He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head before hugging her even closer. She eventually let go and looked at him with shining eyes.

"Me too. God I'm so glad my dad took interest in the car you drive. Or else he wouldn't have invited you. He's obsessed with Mercedes, you know? So he wanted to see your car."

Eight hid his grin well and smiled instead before he laughed nervously, scratching his neck.

"Well I am very glad he has such a great taste in cars. And that I chose this one."

His eyes lingered on her slim figure.

"Is it just me or did you get even more beautiful?"

Amanda grinned a little and hit his shoulder.

"You're unbelievable."

She giggled as she checked him out from head to toe.

"You look decent. Like a guy my father would accept."

Eight chuckled softly and shook his head before he clapped his hands once.

"Great, it was the look I was going for. So, where do we go now? And should I be afraid? I mean after the two security check ups..."

"No, that's just routine, don't worry! Oh and, we should go inside before he thinks that you're late. That would be unfortunate. Come with me."

The blonde girl grabbed Eights hand and pulled him along. She was excited, he could tell. And so could the other ghosts.

Watching a person who was at the brink of falling in love was truly amazing. It was their energy, their smile, their way to express themselves which never failed to make others jealous. And so did Amanda.

She left an impression. Two and Three intertwined their fingers, Five glanced at Four and he couldn't help but smile back.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe all of this was supposed to happen. But no one would ever question Amandas role in this.

Eight, who now found himself in foyer of the mansion turned around a little, his eyes widened and his mouth opened a little.

"Wow it looks nice in here."

Amanda shrugged slightly as she looked around.

"It's good for a prison."

Eight turned to her and raised a brow.

"I mean, I'm locked up. My father will not let me go anywhere more than once a week."

"Are you in danger? Because that would explain the armed guys at the bridge."

"They aren't just at the bridge. They are literally everywhere. Well, not completely everywhere. I've convinced him to send them away from my rooms."

She told him proudly and Eight nodded shortly.

"So, will you show me your rooms later? I bet they look pretty."

"I think you're being a little too fast, young man."

Eight looked up and there, at the upper end of the stairs he stood. Jim Wright. Father of Amanda Wright, subject of this whole mission.

"That is why I used the term later, Sir."

Eight grinned a little as he faced the man who was now walking down the stairs to greet the two of them.

"My name is Jim Wright, or Mr. Wright for you. I'm Amandas father."

Eight shook the other mans hand and looked at him with a strong gaze.

"It's an honour to meet you, Sir. My name is Jacob."

"Strong handshake, I like that."

Mr. Wright looked at him until the boy gave in. The man then took his hand away and eyed the boy.

"I thought you'd be taller."

Eight bit back a growl and although he heard Five laugh, he didn't say anything to it.

"Well, I may not be tall, but height is no indicator for ones intelligence or future. And that's what really matters."

"Well said, well said. So, Jacob, what are your plans for the future?"

"Get a proper job, buy a house, maybe found a family, the usual stuff, Sir."

Again, he was eyed suspiciously but he didn't mind.

"And what would that proper job be?"

"Dad can't we talk about this while having lunch? I bet Jacob is hungry."

Amanda spoke up, being kind of annoyed by her father who just sighed and gave in.

The three of them walked upstairs and Eight grabbed her hand before he faced her shortly. The way she smiled told him more than a thousand words ever would.

She was falling for him. For the way he looked at her, the way he caressed her hand in his, the way he spoke to her with words so sweet.

But she didn't know him. She didn't know the man that held her hand. She didn't know the eyes that lingered on her. She didn't know the mouth that voiced all the sweet words she was longing to hear.

Because it was his decision what she saw. It was his decision to hide the man he really was. The boy that was devoured by anger and the desire for revenge. The person no one saw because it was no one anyone would want to see.

Still, there was good inside this mess. Even though, within the chaos of his being, he sometimes doubted that it was still there. Because he couldn't see it, he couldn't find it. But when he saw people laugh because of him, or smile, he knew it was still inside of him. A part of him. Although he would never see that it was bigger than the wish for revenge, the anger and despair. There was one person who would show him.

While Eight was completely into the mission, the other ghosts were focussing on other things. One, Five and Two had an eye on their youngest ghost while Three, Four and Seven were in the middle of a heated card game while drinking beer.

"Okay so, you think you're good, huh? Just because you have one card left?"

Seven asked before separating the cards in his hands in three different parts and placing them on the table.

"King, ace, one, two."

He stated and continued.

"Three queens."

Seven placed the next three cards on the table and Four and Three looked at him with a death glare. But that would never stop Seven from placing the cards he had left on his hand on the table before putting one of them aside.

"And seven, six and five. I won."

His grin was, again, bigger and wider than anything else.

"Oh come on, Seven you're cheating again."

Four complained, throwing the one card he had left on the table. Like a child who didn't get what it wanted for Christmas.

"In the job I used to do, cheaters were shot in the hand."

Three said and played with his gun while looking at Seven.

"No one gets shot in the hand in here, for fucks sake. What are we, a group of children?"

One interfered and Three placed his gun aside. Close enough to reach, of course, while he focussed on Seven.

"I didn't cheat. Not this time!"

"Of course you did! Wanker."

Four said and grabbed the deck before mixing it again.

"Why don't you believe me? I really didn't cheat this round!"

Seven defended himself and watched the blonde place the cards on the table again.

"That's why playing with you is no fun."

"He is right. Maybe we should play with the new kid instead."

Three said and Four nodded.

"Well, I think Four and the new kid are playing their very own games, Three."

Seven joked and the skywalker raised a brow.

"What do you mean?"

He asked and Three looked just as confused as Four.

"Oh, don't you play that little game where you test each other’s boundaries?"

While Sevens grin grew bigger, Fours cheeks heated up.

He was just about to say something, but he then paid attention to One.

"Eight don't do anything stupid now."

The voice of their leader sounded so serious, that even the three guys in the back were now completely concentrated on the monitors. They saw a room with a huge desk and various golden decorations. And they heard a door close and an exchanging of words.

"So, Sir, you wanted to talk to me alone, right?"

The tall man turned around and looked at the boy in front of him. He looked small and a little bit frightened.

"Yes I did."

"Good, because the two huge security guards make me really nervous."

Mr. Wright laughed a little and shook his head.

"They won't say anything, they will just stand there."

Eight turned around and looked at them in concern before he faced the father of his girlfriend again.

"But you said alone, not with two big guys waiting to strangle me. I think the strict father of the beautiful girl I am dating is frightening enough. Your whole person is enough authority to be scared."

And again, the young boy did know exactly what it was the man in front of him wanted to hear. All he needed to do was patting the guys ego. And the other gladly ate what Eight fed him.

"Well, I guess you are right. Sasha, Drake, you can take a break. Eat something or... Whatever."

The two big men who were covering the door walked out, keeping their faces straight.

Eight didn't pay much attention to them anymore, while the man made the mistake to turn his head towards the door.

It was already too late as he faced the boy in front of him again. His fate had already been sealed.

Eight, who took the opportunity to ram his knee in the others stomach and push him down on his knees, had now gotten out the small knife he had.

"One scream for help and your daughter will die."

He whispered as he gave the back of the man a strong kick so he'd face the ground, not being fast enough to catch himself with his hands.

"Eight ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND????"

One asked, voice as tensed as the speaker himself. The other ghosts were quiet. What on earth was the boy doing there?

"I assume you know what I need, and I suggest you give me the information I came for if you don't want to die."

If the guy wouldn't have been so afraid at this moment, all of that wouldn't have worked in the first place. But he was.

Eight knew enough to know it would be working. One had told him plenty of things and the way the man behaved only confirmed his assumptions.

He was a coward. Scared to die, no willpower, he was nothing. A no one. Someone who was intelligent enough to earn a lot of money but needed a sense in life to feel good. He needed to be part of something big to have at least a glimpse of power to him. Losing power, losing his grip was something the man was afraid of. But there was one thing he was more frightened of. Death. To lose his home, his daughter, his life.

And through that, Eight knew that thinking of the possibility to die scared him more than anything else.

"Give me the coordinates. Now."

"I- I don't have them!"

"Wrong answer."

Eight hummed and kicked the mans side. He whined in pain.

"Shh, don't be a pussy, you don't want your daughter to get hurt, don't you?"

"Don't- don't hurt her..."

"Start talking and I'll take it into consideration."

"The address is saved on my computer."

"Sounds good, why don't you go get it for me, hm?"

Eight grabbed the man by his shirt and pulled him up.

"Hands behind your head. Keep them where I can see them. Good."

He then led him to the computer and forced him to sit down on the chair before placing the beautiful blue knife on his throat.

"One try to make a noise and I will end your life right away."

The gulp of his victim was audible as he typed the password with shaking hands and searched for the address.

As soon as it was visible, One grabbed his smartphone and searched for the address via google street view.

"Thank god for technology."

He mumbled and took a closer look at the pictures he found. He was looking for one specific sign, a logo, that would confirm that it was the right information. And he wasn't left disappointed. The moment One found what he had been looking for, he turned to face the monitor.

"It's the right address, now get the fuck out of there so I can kick your ass for being such an idiot."

One advised and Eight slit the throat of the man with one swift motion, careful not to dirty himself.

"Shh, lie down, there you go."

The boy waited for his victim to give in to his fate and laid down his head on the table. It looked like he was asleep.

Satisfied with his work, he cleaned his knife on the black chair before he hid it under his dress shirt again.

He made his way to the door, ready to leave the place, as he heard footsteps approaching. The door he was hiding behind was opened and someone walked in.

Eights heart wasn't the only one that stopped for a mere second.

[ziracona]

How many people were tested just for others anyway? Gordon's wife and daughter, Daniel (the wiki says it was also for shoplifting but he was 16 so I call bs), literally everyone except Lynn and her husband in Saw III, and my memory past 3 is fuzzy but that one lying author's wife comes straight to mind. They weren't being tested for whatever John pretended his survival of the fittest policy was they were terrorized tortured and/or killed for basically nothing but the pain of the target.

Anon you’re so valid TuT 

ITS TRUE AND WE SHOULD ALL SAY IT!!! Also, I wrote this little part last, bc I just wanted to give fair warning that I went blind into a rage and wrote threethousand words about how much I hate John Kramer, full of very terrible language and spoilers for Saw 1-6, because I go that fucking feral at the sound of his name, and I can’t make everyone scroll past that so I’m putting most of it under the cut, but even if you decide you justifiably fear that rant and don’t read it, just know you are incredibly valid, and John can eat shit and die. Rant start:

John did that bullshit constantly! He would over and over put 1 (one) man he personally wanted to watch suffer on trial and sacrifice /scores/ of people for no reason. No trap, no way to escape, at someone else’s mercy completely or maybe with 0 chance even there bc JOHN KRAMER IS A SACK OF SHIT. 

He kills a house full of drug addicts in two, mostly just bc his wife worked w drug addicts and John hates drug addicts, and even though Amanda was in their literal exact same position she does jack shit to stop him and just watches people slowly have their organs deteriorate and start coughing up blood around her!! Including fucking Daniel! Who got an antidote but like, at the 11th hour. Do y’all even understand how biology works John and CO??? If you neutralize a poison after it has deteriorated parts of organs it might save your life but itS NOT A FUCKING HEALTH POTION. Poor Daniel Matthews probably will only live to be like forty tops if he’s super lucky because of that. And he did NOTHING!!! He had shoplifted bc he was going through a teen phase but he’s like sixteen! Everyone was dumb as shit as a teenager, and most people shoplift at some point in their life! It does not earn you slow deterioration of your organs! Poor kid not only watched a man burned to death in an oven, dude have his brains blown out, girl die of prolonged organ failure, and more shit, he himself /killed/ a man as a sixteen year old child to save Amanda Young because he’s got a good heart and is a good person, and that shit is awful! It’s traumatic to kill someone at any age, but as a teenager? And then he got knocked out by her and thrown in a tiny locked safe, tied up and gagged, and kept alive by an oxygen tank in an enclosed space after that massive trauma for or AT LEAST 24 HOURS ! He did NOTHING. It was all just a long-con sacrifice to get Eric Matthews to a specific location. Eric did some real shit, but god, even after everything Daniel did for Amanda and all John’s talk of innocents, neither of them ever even tell Eric he lived! Amanda just locks him up, fights, beats him to she thinks death, and then John keeps him locked up and isolated in a cell for months, only to make him choke himself slowly in a test he doesn’t actually get to participate in to keep a friend from being electrocuted. It’s all kinds of fucked.

Even Jeff did nothing worse than be depressed and obsessive and unavailable to his kid, all Lynn did was have a boyfriend after she and he separated (and tbh the only reason John took her was bc he wanted a doctor and hated her for being one of the docs who told him he had cancer bc John is a pettyass hypocritical stupid sack of shit!) I’m VIBRATING with hatred. Lynn was just a pawn in Amanda’s test! It never mattered if she kept John alive! It only mattered if Amanda decided to fucking shoot her!!! She did her task and died and JOHN KNEW THERE WAS A HIGH PROBABILITY AMANDA WOULD KILL HER AND DID NOTHING TO STOP IT BC JOHN CARES ABOUT NO ONE BUT HIMSELF THE FUCKING WORTHLESS LITTLE WORM. 

And the other victims in 3 are a poor college student who ran over someone on accident and feels massive guilt already and served jail time for it who gets his fucking limbs and then head all twisted off while begging for his life because JOHN KRAMER IS A PIECE OF SHIT AND SO IS JEFF TBH. BUT NOT AS BIG OF ONE. The poor girl who is stung up naked in a freezer and sprayed repeatedly with water till she is encased in ice and dead literally just saw the hit and run and ran away bc she was scared!!! Not to mention Jeff’s other kid who gets kidnapped and locked up as collateral! Even if she’s not hurt that’s FUCKING TRAUMATIZING FOR A YOUNG CHILD. And Allison Kerry did nothing wrong! Amanda kills her in the Angel trap literally just bc she’s investigating them! When he targets a detective John’s always like “Ho ho he, I am putting you on trial bc you are obsessed with your work”  LIKE, BITCH NO SHE FUCKIN AINT SHE DOIN HER GODDAMN JOB AND U DON”T WANT TO GET CAUGHT YOU STUPID FUCKING WHORE I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH THAT JUST LOOKING AT YOUR FACE CAUSES ME TO PRODUCE SO MUCH EXCESS EPINEPHRINE I COULD BOTTLE IT AND SAVE IT FOR LATER. I swear to god, if I had a grenade and I was in the room trapped with a still breathing John Kramer, I would kill pull the pin and take us both! FUCK I would pull the pin and then french kiss the grenade as thanks for letting me see that sack of shit go right to hell!

I don’t remember all of four bc it was really terrible, so I don’t have a lot of thoughts there except woof, but there was a lot of bullshit. Like John’s lawyer who did nothing but try to talk to him about finances enough it pissed John off got kidnapped, won his first game, and then got kidnapped again BC THAT SHIT HEAD SURE NEVER KEEPS EVEN HIS OWN GODDAMNED WORD and was made pawn in the game and then shot bc he didn’t have a chance to save himsefl!!! 

In Saw one, also, again, Adam was never being tested. He was just a pawn too. It was Gordon who got to decide to kill him or not, and ADAM LIVED TO SIX OR WHENEVER THE FUCK THE TIME WAS AND JOHN STILL LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HE”S A HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHIT!!!! And he’s not interesting enough for Johns MASSIVE brainshlong that obviously is so full of right ideas and enlightenment you MICROPENISEDtrulyIDIOTIC self-centered human garbage!  He only took Adam at all bc he was there! He said the reason was Adam was pathetic! ADAM WAS DOING HIS BEST YOU CRUSTY ASS RED ROBED TURTLE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. He was a freelance photographer in New Jersey in his early 20s during an economic collapse, and still nice enough to be taking care of stray cats you FUCKING sack of dogshit! 

And Gordon? All he did was tell John he had cancer! He was cheating on his wife too, but like, the reason John picked him was that!!! HE THOUGHT!! GORDON SOUNDED TOO COLD WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE HAD CANCER I FUCKING HATE JOHN KRAMER SO MUCH. John Kramer really will see someone smile not as big a smile as he thought they should have given him and be like: “Yo, is anyone going to corkscrew their eyeballs off?” and not even wait for an answer. I fuuuuukning hate him. And that little shitface thought it was somehow chill to order someone else to kill Gordon’s wife and eight year old child who had done JACK SHIT wrong ever if Gordon wasn’t willing to brutally murder a kid in his early 20s who had done nothing wrong????! WHAT THE FUCK. Mr. KRamer.. QUICK QUESTION. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You self-righteous, self-centered, pretentious, pettyass, sadistic motherfucking goddamn worthless excuse for anything!

In five he’s finally dead so I can : ) once. BUT HE STILL FUCKS UP SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. SO I’m STILL MAD. All the people Hoffman kills are ppl John told him to, so HE STILL MOTHERFUKIN RESPONSIBLE. In 5 it’s a bunch of people responsible kind of for deaths of people in a low-income neighborhood. One guy was paid to torch an abandoned building, and eight people died in the fire, but he didn’t know anyone was there and feels terrible. He thought it was vacant, it was just arson. Another is a journalist who found out about the arson, and didn’t break the story bc guy 1’s father bribed him. There’s a fire inspector who learned the truth and was bribed by the guy’s dad not to tell too. A city planner who was bribed into selling permits for the land. And Brit, who was the girl who paid for the arson, bc she wanted to make an apartment complex, and maybe actually knew about the 8 people and might have deserved some real payback–it’s unclear???? Regardless. I want to add that the cops had been investigating, had a strong case, and were about to arrest them and hold these people accountable in a legal manner, which John knew bc HOFFMAN WAS IN HIS POCKET, and John so hated the idea of them facing justice justice, he kidnapped them. The fire inspector got dragged into saw blades by her throat and torn apart, the journalist died to a nail bomb, and the city planner got electrocuted in a bathtub. The two who made it had their arms split down the middle up to the elbow to let enough blood out to save them.  I cannot. Just.

Anyway. In six, again at DEAD JOHN WHO WON”T QUIT FUCKING EVERYTHING UP’s request, a ‘game’ is played and William Easton (one of my fave protagonists bc he’s a piece of shit but damn if he didn’t have a real glow up in forty-five minutes) is thrown into a hell circuit. 

And so, undeservingly, is like, EVERYONE he fucking knows! His janitor Hank is first up. Target for…what was it? OHhhhhh right. He smokes. That was why. That makes so much sense john I’m sorry I doubted you PSYCH I CAN"T EVEN SAY IT AS A JOKE I JUST THREW UP A LITTLE IN MY MOUTH JOHN QUICK Q? WHAT THE FUCK? oh wait it’s because your an ABSOLUTE BASTARD. You would think I would get desensitized but no. It just. It’s fuel on the flame of my rage.

William Easton and the janitor, Hank, are hooked into something that slowly tightens and crushes their ribs any time they take a breath, and whoever doesn’t die first gets to live, and poor goddamn Hank smoked so ofc he can’t outlast a healthy dude in his 30s and John crushes his ribs just to make William watch someone die. Then he makes William pick which of two people to save in trial 2. MEANING HE GODDAMN STRAIGHT UP KIDNAPPED THESE TWO TOTALLY FINE WITH EITHER DYING, IN FACT WITH THE SOUL PURPOSE BEING TO DIE bc who cares about them right John? You fucking pretentious self-righteous creep! I have a year of the Pig teddy bear I named after Peter Strahm JUST for the FUCKING satisfaction of knowing John would hate that bc he was so into year of the motherfucking pig. ANyway. Plot again. Poor file clerk at Williams firm and the poor secretary are the two targets, and literally they did jack shit!!! They work for shitty lawyers but all they do is clock in to a 9-5 and file shit!! They are literally just there to rub it in William’s face that insurance policies aren’t fair bc according to them, one of the humans is worth more than the other bc health and age, but uuuuh oohhh William the older one with health issues is p hard to kill face to face bc you know her and she has kids and the young healthy man in his early 20s family is dead and he doesn’t have friends which means according to John he is worth less bc JOHN DOES THINK YOU CAN CHOOSE BETWEEN LIVES and all of this is here just bc John somehow thought it would be fun to fucking WIN A GODDAMN “I’M RIGHT” ARGUMENT WITH A LAWYER at the expense of brutally hanging a human being with barbed wire!!! 

Sidebar–if John Kramer was a real human being, I would go yearly on a fucking pilgrimage to his grave just to SPIT on his stupid corpse. I HATE HIM SO MUCH. 

K so young man dies. Then test 3 his attorney dies too, I don’t know much about her, except she is just there to make William feel like shit and they were into each other, and she tries to kill William after he gets hurt trying to save her bc he has the key to her trap in his stomach or chest idr, but she doesn’t get the key in time and dies, and then test 4 he finds his associates strapped to a carousel with a shotgun that picks one at random and blows off their head, and has to let all but two of them get gunned down and choose which two not to kill. And again, they’re kind of shittyass lawyers, but uh. Yeah. To save two, he has to let this huge piece of metal rip through his hand, but William does it and destroys his hand to save the two he can, and suffers picking while they all beg him to pick them bc John wanted to see him suffer picking between human lives again because he’s a goddam self-centered stuck up jerk who vales human life less then admiring his ugly ass dick in the mirror every day and pretending he’s a member of Mensa, the evil utterly irredeemable sack of shit. Anyway, at the end, William has never had a chance to live or die at all! And John was literally just torturing him for fun and killed /all/ those people not even for a test for William but /solely/ to make him suffer bc human lives DON"T MATTER ONE FUCKING IOTA to JOHN SHITASS KRAMER. WHO JUST WANTED TO WIN. AN INTELLECTUAL ARGUMENT. POST-MORTEM. BECAUSE he’s THAT kind of shittyass, pretentious, sanctimonious, better than thou, always right, incapable of wrong, smartest fucking asshole in the room man!!! I bet he doesn’t ever wash his hands when he takes a piss! I KNOW IT! FUCK John Kramer! 

ANd OH! William gets killed by a kid who hates him bc he turned down their father’s insurance policy fraudulently, knowing he would die of an illness without the money. BC William was terrible. Which is /so/ great for that fucking teenager! Killing someone horribly with acid while you watch them die and their body be melted! And they beg you not to do it and apologize on the other side of bars, already beat to shit, and plead for forgiveness, and your mom begs you not to, and the dude’s sister sobs and begs you not to!!! SO GOOD! Way to go john you FUCKING CUNT, they definitely value their lives now you goddamn motherfucking souless sack of shit!

I-I don’t even have the energy to do the other Saw movies or go back over the other victims in Saw one WHO DID NOTHING WRONG. John just hated them!!! BC HIS WIFE KNEW THEM! In most cases! John just fucking hates drug addicts! OK u know what here’s the short version even if I can’t do them justice rn bc I’m pissed!!! One guy got sliced to death on razor wire for cutting when he was depressed bc John is a piece of shit, one got burned to death after walking on glass for hours bc John doesn’t believe in invisible illnesses and if you’re walking you must be healthy, oh yeah! And the fucking dude Amanda killed in her first trial was just a drug addict! Going to a recovery clinic! He never had a chance to live on his own bc the only choice was if Amanda would cut open his intestines and sift through him for a key while he was awake but too drugged to move or not, and she did! Didn’t even get to plead for his life! ANyway!!!! Fucking as far as I can tell all Zep did was work at the goddamn hospital! He WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO BE NICE TO JOHN and told other people he was a cool dude!!! He was just a janitor!!! WHAT THE FUCK???

I just. God. I hate everything about John Kramer. The way he talks makes me so LIVID I change color like a goddamned chameleon. He is so ready to argue his stupid shitty fucking ethics with anyone who breathes in a ten mile radius. Shithead John over here will strap you to a table and make you listen to him talk about how it’s not his fault he poisoned two people and gave them one antidote and a bunch of knives and one of them came out dead, and his hands are clean and people don’t value their lives so they should die while he watches eating fucking cereal I am just–I am so glad John has cancer? Like, the idea of Saw sans John having cancer is unbearable, because I am so afraid the writers would never let him die and we would never be free of the human cancer that is John. The only human being on the planet that has ever been able to make me root for the cancer. But boy in that one and only regard, John is special.

I hate him so much it is unbelievable. Like. I can’t even put it into words. THe pure, unbridled fury I feel when I hear John say, “D’oh ho ho, but I, with these two little handies of mine, hath never pulled the gun’s trigger! Got you there! Where is your science! Where is your god! I am no murderer! I heal people! By sawing off their faces! You just do not understand, oh poor unenlightened human that you are. May you be strapped to a machete car and blessed with my wisdom  😔” I absolutely lose control of 90% of normal human functionality, and all that I have left is righteous justice and bloodlust. It’s unbelievable.

Whichever one of you god-mode-brain peeps made that post saying Eric Matthews had the hardest test in the whole Saw franchise because he had to sit and listen to John Kramer talk for two hours was a GODDAMNED HERO and if you contact me and prove the tumblr account is yours I will paypal you ten dollars and a personalized note thanking you for the joy that gave me because I just really hate John Kramer that FUCKING MUCH. I would cut off my own toes to be able to have something to shove down John Kramer’s throat to make him stop. talking.

There are a lot of things in this world I hate bc I hate things that are unjust, but I hate absolutely nothing more in the universe than a villain who is a self-righteous, hypocritical asshole who won’t even admit that what they are doing is wrong and parades as the tragic genius hero despite knowing GODDAMN well that they are a petty, shitty, hypocritical, absolute fucking MONSTER with no redeemable qualities or capacity for love. And John Kramer is at least my second least favorite character in the history of ANYTHING. Maybe my first. I’m not even sure anymore! Nasty-ass, evil, pretentious, self-righteous, shortsighted, selfish, sadistic, voyeuristic, willfully ignorant, crusty ass useless soulless garbage little SHIT.

[lovemesomerafael]

It’s Complicated                       Chapter 6:  A Little Too Easy

Source: @kendaspntwd

Chapters 1-5        Story on AO3

Amanda Rollins noticed Rafe Rojas the second he walked into the squad room.  Only a man who lived in jeans could make them fit like that.  And the squint lines around his dark eyes did something to her down low.  He was the lean, cowboy type – well, he was a literal cowboy – she absolutely could not resist.  His hat was well-worn and didn’t disguise the shagginess of his thick, dark hair.  She didn’t mean to come on to him.  She liked Frankie, and Frankie was in deep shit. But her older brother was basically sex in cowboy boots.  So Amanda got real Southern, real fast, the minute she stepped up to Rafe to introduce herself.  Sure, Porter was standing next to him and could have made the introductions.  But Amanda’s ovaries were in charge.  Or some part of her female anatomy, anyway.  

“We’re on our way out to Riker’s,” Porter explained.  “We just stopped by to give you guys a chance to ask any questions you may have thought of.”

“Nikki OK with that?”

“Nikki might not be aware of it,” Porter muttered.  “And your lives might be easier if you didn’t mention this visit to Stone, either. Unless something good comes out of it.  But I trust you guys.  I know you’re on Frankie’s side.  ”  

Dodds introduced himself to Rafe, who was a few inches shorter and a few shades darker.  Rafe’s voice was deep and Amanda thought she detected just the slightest twang, like a delicate spice that gave a tasty dish just the right, subtle kick.  

For several minutes, the group discussed anything in Frankie’s past that might be either helpful or hurtful, but there was nothing.  She was who she was.  She had no skeletons, no previous arrests (knife-related or otherwise), and no history of any kind of violence, unless having a hair-trigger temper and a sharp tongue counted. Rafe couldn’t help the case, except to reassure them that there were no surprises in his sister’s past waiting to trip her up.  

Porter and Rafe left shortly thereafter.  Amanda could feel her thighs quiver when Rafe touched his hat to her and said, “Miss,” as he left.  Amanda was positive he gave her a subtle wink along with his nod.  She stood just a little too long watching the hallway after they’d turned the corner toward the elevators.  

 *********************

Porter ran interference with the guard at Riker’s who tried to keep Rafe from hugging his little sister. He felt responsible for his friend being in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, and he wasn’t about to deny her the small comfort of a hug from her brother.  

“You all right, Snot-rocket?”  Rafe asked, sitting down next to Frankie.  

“Y-yeah,” Frankie stuttered, trying desperately not to cry.  

Rafe pulled her head to his shoulder, and Porter signaled to the guard to let them be.  

“Everybody sends their love. They’re pissed at you for tellin’ ‘em not to come, but they get it.”

“I can’t-“

“They know.  They treatin’ you OK in here?”

“Yeah.  It’s fine.  My lawyer knows some of the guards, and she has some clients in here, so…”

“Can’t say I’m too impressed with a lawyer whose clients are in prison.”

Frankie gave the tiniest laugh, then sniffled.  “She’s good. She’ll get me out of here.”

“Yeah, she will.  And if she don’t, me n’ the guys’ll stage a jailbreak.  Always wanted to do that.”  

“Don’t even joke about that in here,” Frankie told him.

“Ain’t jokin’.  So listen, Porter only got us five minutes, so I don’t wanna waste it.  Just… you need anything?  You need me to do anything?”

“No, there’s nothing. Dean gave you the keys to my apartment?”

“Yeah.  I’ll take care of it for you until you get home.  You just hang in, all right?  Porter’s gonna find that kid.  I met your team at SVU, and they seem like they got their shit together.  We got you, OK?”

“OK.”

“By the way, I’m gonna marry that Amanda.”

“She’s way too good for a snot-rocket like you.  But you go ahead and try.”    

 ********************

Things started to get strange about eight O’Clock the next morning.  Peter Stone got a call in his office.  Based on an anonymous tip, Detectives Carisi and Tutuola had picked up Juwon Jefferson and had him in custody.  And he was talking.  

He was a different kid than Stone had seen on the tapes of his first interrogation.  For one thing, he was a mass of bruises and cuts.  For another, he was giving them real information. The attitude was still on full display, and he was definitely not happy to be there.  But at least they had him, and for whatever reason, he was ready to tell them everything he knew about Alan Canady.  In part, Stone believed his story that Canady had been a truly evil son of a bitch, and now that he was dead, Juwon could safely say so.  But there was no way that was the whole story.  

“Yeah, man, I tol’ the Doc to go see the motherfucker, gave her the message he was gonna barbecue her boyfriend if she didn’t show up.  Ain’t nothin’ illegal ‘bout that.  I just delivered a message.”

“Did he pay you?”  Stone asked.

“Yeah, man, you think I play messenger boy for my health?”  

“Why did he want to see Dr. Rojas?”

“He said he was gonna fuck her up.  Said he was gonna do hisself, make it look like she done it.  Guess that’s pretty much what he done, ain’t it?  That’s bad-ass, man.  Stabbin’ yo’self.  That’s cold.”

Stone rolled his eyes. This was all way too convenient. Out of the blue, they get an anonymous tip and this kid who hadn’t cooperated at all is suddenly telling them the exact same wildly implausible story the suspect told?  And he just happened to be covered with injuries?  No.  Somebody got to this kid, and he was either getting something huge out of this, or they had something big over him.  Either way, Stone wasn’t about to let Rojas walk on the word of this little tweaker alone.

“Why should I believe you?” Stone asked, looking hard at the kid.

“I don’t give a shit if you believe me.  It’s that rich bitch doctor sittin’ in Rikers, not me.”

The kid had talked quite a bit about Alan Canady’s rapes of the three women.  That, at least, they could prove.  The kid’s evidence gave them probable cause to test Canady’s DNA against the rape kits, which was being done right that moment.  Stone thought blackly that it wasn’t like it was hard to collect Canady’s DNA - it was pooled all over the floor in that cheap motel room. But that still didn’t prove who had killed Canady, and it didn’t answer why this kid was suddenly in custody and talking.  Stone was suspicious of anything this neat and easy.

 ****************

Later that day, Stone stopped by Barba’s office.  Barba was sitting at his desk, tapping a pen and staring off into space.  

“Thinking deep legal thoughts?”  Stone grinned.

“Shallow ones, anyway. What can I do for you?”

“I wanna talk about this Rojas case.”

Barba frowned.  “You can’t talk to me about that case.”

“Not about the case itself, just…  Hypothetically, what would you say if you had a case with a very hard to find, reluctant, unreliable witness, who suddenly gets found by an ‘anonymous source’ and starts singing like a canary?”  Stone made himself comfortable in one of the chairs in front of Barba’s desk.

“I’d smell a rat. Especially if this suddenly cooperative witness is a junkie.”

“He is. Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically. Look, I’m in an impossible spot here. You know that.  I know Francisca Rojas didn’t kill Alan Canady.”

“You don’t know that, and neither does anyone else except Canady.  And he’s not talking.”

“I have instincts, same as you.  And I know this woman.”

“You’ve known this woman for a whole month.  And you’re fucking her.  Tends to mess with the instincts, Barba.”

Rafael shot Stone an irritated look and gave a snort of annoyance.  “What, exactly, do you want from me here?  There’s no way she did it.  I know that.  But if you’re asking me whether you can believe this tweaker’s sudden conversion to the light, I’d say no.  So you get all the information you can out of him, and you check it all out, and you prove she didn’t do it with that evidence.”

“What the hell’s happened to everyone around here?  Since when are we in the business of proving someone didn’t do a crime?”  Stone snapped.

“Since always.  We prove the truth, not just what we want to be true.  That’s why I’m saying don’t buy the tweaker’s story.  I’d like Franci-  Dr. Rojas out of Riker’s today.  But you have a job to do, and that means you need to be right.”

“Thanks for nothing,” Stone smirked, getting up.  

“That’s what I’m here for. Get her out.  Soon.  But do it the right way.”

Rafael was troubled.  The tweaker was back and now he was talking? What had she done?  Or what had been done on her behalf?  

 **********

The DNA matched.  Alan Canady was the Pattern 20 rapist. Unfortunately, that didn’t prove who had killed him.  Nothing did. The autopsy was consistent with either Canady stabbing himself or someone else stabbing him; it was inconclusive either way.  And both his fingerprints and Frankie Rojas’s were on the knife.  True, Canady had no defensive wounds, but she could simply have gotten a lucky shot before he realized what was happening.  Because Barba’s building had no security cameras, there was no way to prove that Canady or Jefferson had somehow gotten in and stolen the knife.  From an evidence standpoint, that meant it was equally likely that either Frankie had killed Canady, or he had done it himself.  

In the end, the Manhattan DA’s office had no choice but to drop the charges against Frankie Rojas.  With the tweaker kid’s testimony, there was simply too much reasonable doubt for Nikki Staines to work with.  Nikki had actually been in the office the day the decision was made, raising holy hell and making Peter Stone’s life miserable.  Stone wasn’t happy about any of it – he felt like they had been played by someone who had gotten to the tweaker kid, but he couldn’t prove it, and he had other cases he could prove.  So they dropped the charges and Nikki blew up the phones at Riker’s as she drove out to collect her client, making sure they would have her processed out and ready when Nikki arrived.  

She called Dean Porter from her car.  “You heard?”

“Yeah.  Can I go pick her up?”

“I’m on my way now. But listen.  I’m never gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, but Stone thinks he got played, and I can’t blame him.  Is there anything I should know about that Jefferson kid?  It does seem like he had a pretty sudden, and violent, change of heart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t. I just want to know I’m not gonna get any surprises, and my client isn’t either.”

“You won’t.  I swear to you, Nikki, it’s all above board.  The kid was telling the truth.”

“Yeah, but why was he telling the truth?”

“You know what?  Take the win.  It’s all good.”

“It better be.  You got a lot to lose these days.”

“Yeah, life is good. And I wouldn’t jeopardize that. We didn’t do anything to the tweaker kid that’s gonna hurt us.  Or you. Or Frankie.”

“You didn’t, huh? Then who’s ‘we’?”

“Did I say ‘we’?  I meant ‘I’.  Hey, Nikki, my other line is ringing.  I gotta answer that.  Nice working with you.”

***************

Frankie was pretty sure she was being set up.  She didn’t really like it, given what she’d just been through, but it was hard to find a basis to complain.  Her brother and Amanda had become very… close, and were both claiming that, since he was planning to fly back to Austin in the morning, it was their last opportunity to spend time together.  So, as badly as they felt about it – yeah, sure, she thought – they wondered whether Frankie would mind spending one more night at Barba’s.  Besides which, all her things were at Barba’s.  And they claimed already to have set it up with him.  

Frankie dimly felt that it was bizarre for people who loved her to be worrying about romance, their own or hers, after she had just been in prison for murder.  But she was exhausted.  She’d barely eaten or slept in the five days since her arrest, and she’d been in an emotional spin-cycle the entire time.  The truth was, she wanted two things.  She wanted to take a shower for about a week, followed by a soak in a bathtub for a month.  And she wanted Barba.  

She hadn’t spoken to him since her arrest.  He’d retained Nikki for her, and she’d had messages from him through Porter, but that had been all he could do.  Now that she was about to see him again, she was in a turmoil of different emotions.  She felt physically hideous and soiled, and she felt emotionally battered and horribly ashamed.  She thought she was far too needy to be going to stay with a man she knew as little as she knew Barba.  But, apparently, she was the only one who felt that way, because he was waiting for her when Nikki pulled up at the curb in front of his building.

He looked absolutely delectable to her.  Gorgeous and kind and caring and opening his arms to her before she was all the way out of the car, even though all she had to wear home was the terrible sweats they’d given her at the M.E.’s office when they’d taken her bloody clothes.  Nikki smiled broadly at Rafael as he moved to push the car door closed, cradling Frankie in his arms.  

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

“My pleasure,” she replied, waving.  She liked the idea of Barba owing her one.

Rafael gently guided Frankie through the door to the lobby, and held her while they waited for the elevator.  

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” she mumbled into his shirt.  She hadn’t looked at him, really, as she’d climbed out of Nikki’s car, just put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.  

“I would have come to your place, if you hadn’t come here.  Even with your brother there.  I want to help.  I’ve felt so fucking useless these past days…”

She squeezed him, hard. “You called Nikki.  You shouldn’t even have done that.  That was everything.”

“I know you didn’t kill him, Francisca.”

“No, you don’t.  No one does, except me and him.  But I didn’t.  I swear it.”

“Still arguing with me…” he said with a grin, as he led her into the elevator, still with her arms clasped to him and her face buried. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. It was wonderful to have her in his arms again, to be able to comfort her as he’d been aching to for days.  But the way she was clinging to him spoke of a depth of fear and anguish that he’d only guessed at.  He was intensely grateful she had come to him so that he could help her through it.  He was honored that his fresa, usually so dauntless and fiery, and now so crushed and wounded, would allow herself to be this vulnerable with him.  He vaguely realized that he would do anything for this woman in his arms, but he paid little attention to the thought, as he thought about what he could do to help her begin to recover from her ordeal.

She released him from her arms when he closed the door behind them, but stayed right next to him.

“I’m guessing you’d like the longest, hottest shower in the history of the world,” he suggested.  

“I’d give my left arm for that,” she sighed softly.

“No charge for guests. You go get in the shower, and I’ll bring you a drink.”

“Do you happen to have any scotch?”

Rafael couldn’t help but laugh at that.  Everyone knew about Rafael Barba and scotch.  He was a little amused by this evidence that they really hadn’t known each other that long.  “I have scotch.”

When he had poured a scotch for each of them, he hesitated outside the door to his bathroom for a moment. He could hear the water running, and see billows of steam floating lazily into the bedroom.  But he was suddenly unsure what she was expecting. Did she want privacy?  Should he wait for her to come out?  Well, he’d told her he was going to bring her a drink.  Besides, he realized, the steam was escaping into the bedroom because she had left the door ajar.  He knocked tentatively and pushed the door open a little.

“Francisca?  I brought your drink.”  

She didn’t respond. He noticed the sweatshirt and pants she’d been wearing wadded up on the floor.

“What do you want me to do with these sweats?”

It took her a second to answer.  “Bonfire,” she finally said in a choked voice.  

He was sure he heard a sob. He didn’t hesitate, but stepped into the room, set his drink on the counter, and pulled the shower curtain back just enough to see her.  Her hands were splayed on the tile wall and she was leaning on both arms, head hanging, crying hard and trying to be silent about it.

“Oh, mi fresa,” he said, pulling the curtain back and stepping, fully clothed, into the shower to take her into his arms.  She instantly let out a groan of agony, turning into him and clinging to him as she sobbed into his shoulder.  He held her drink just outside the spray of the shower.  

For long minutes, he just held her and let her cry, while the hot water cascaded down and soothed her. He didn’t realize he had begun to hum softly to her until she turned her face into his neck, muttering, “That’s nice.”

When she seemed to be done crying, he moved them a bit to the side and held the glass to her.  “Here, drink this,” he said softly, not letting go of her.  She downed its contents in one gulp and handed it back to him.  He smiled.  

When he felt her arms loosen around him, he reached behind her and set the glass down on the shower’s built-in tile shelf.  He took a bottle of shampoo and poured a little into his hand.  Moving her just a bit backward out of the spray, he began to shampoo her hair.  She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, the slightest smile touching her lips. When he was done, he moved her under the spray to rinse her hair and began to soap her body.  He tried not to make it sexual, given the situation and the fact that he was still wearing all of his now-soaked clothes.  But it wasn’t easy.  He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she moved into his hands from time to time. He conditioned her hair when he’d finished washing her, and moved her once again under the spray to rinse out the conditioner.  

“MMmmmmmm,” she said. “This feels so nice.”

“That’s the point,” he said, leaning down without thinking and kissing her.  

He was just preparing to be concerned about pushing her when she reached to put a hand behind his head and wind her fingers in his wet hair, pulling his mouth harder on hers.  After thoroughly kissing him, she looked into his eyes for the first time since she’d arrived.  

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  And I mean that in a number of different ways. I like having you here, and I’m here for you.”

“I know,” she said.  “Can we take a bath?”

“Of course we can.”

“And… will you please take your clothes off?  I don’t care what you do when you’re alone, but I refuse to take a bath with a clothed man.”

Rafael put his forehead to Frankie’s.  “No, I won’t take them off.  But you’re welcome to, if you want.”

“Oh, you’re a pain in the ass, Barba.”  She kissed him again and began undressing him.  

When she had his clothes off, he quickly washed his hair and turned the dial that turned off the shower and began to fill the tub.  Pulling back the curtain, he picked up the pile of wet clothes and wrung them out as best he could, then tossed them across the bathroom into the sink to be dealt with later.  

“You get comfortable.” He said.  “I’ll be right back.”

Rafael quickly padded out to his kitchen and retrieved the bottle of scotch, bringing it to the bathroom and setting it down next to the tub where Frankie was pouring some shampoo under the water to make bubbles.  He took his glass from the counter, lifted hers from the shelf in the shower, and put them on the edge of the bathtub, then stepped into the water. She moved to let him get seated behind her, then scooted between his legs and relaxed against his chest. 

He poured some scotch into her glass and handed it to her, then picked up his own.  He wrapped one arm around her and she held his arm with hers. They sat in the rapidly-filling tub and sipped in silence.  

When the tub was full, Frankie used her foot to turn off the water and turned herself so that she was lying on her side, her cheek on his chest, and could put both arms around him.

“I love you,” she murmured, eyes closed and smiling.  

Rafael kissed the top of her head, wondering whether she could possibly have meant what she’d just said. She lay quietly, seemingly perfectly satisfied with no response other than a kiss.  She’d had two drinks – he had only poured a couple of fingers each time, but he had no idea when the last time she’d slept or eaten was, and for all he knew, she was asleep right this second.  Maybe she didn’t even know she’d said it.  He decided that’s what it was.  His chest felt warm anyway, and it wasn’t just because of the scotch.  

He thought he dozed a little, lying there holding her in the hot, bubbly water.  He was gently nudged back into consciousness when she shifted between his legs and mumbled, “It’s getting cold.”

“You want to put in some more hot water?”

“Mmmmmm, I want to be in bed.  I don’t want to get out of this tub and move to the bed.  I just want to be in bed without that part.”

“I’d like to do that for you, mi fresa, but I don’t think I possess that particular skill.”

She inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.  “OK, we’ll do it the hard way.”

They helped each other to stand and climb out of the tub, and Rafael wrapped Frankie in a deliciously large, fluffy towel.  She was too sleepy to comment, but she made a mental note to compliment him on his taste in towels – and scotch – in the morning.  Neither bothered much with their hair – Rafael just toweled his off and Frankie twisted hers into a quick bun on top of her head.  They quickly brushed their teeth, leaning on one another, and were cuddled together in bed very soon thereafter, arms around one another and her head cradled on his shoulder.  

In the soft light coming through the window, Frankie looked up at Rafael.  She lifted her lips to kiss his jaw and he turned his head to take her lips between his.  He was a bit surprised when she subtly shifted her body and opened her mouth to his, sliding her hand down his side to his hip and thigh, angling her caress until she was softly cupping him in her hand.  

“Barba?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Will you please make love to me?”

“Anything for you.”

He followed her lead, going slowly and touching her softly, never taking his mouth from hers, even when whispering endearments and praise.  Her soft moan as she came with him inside her was pure enchantment, and he was almost positive it contained a whispered, “I love you.”

[youngster-monster]

Thing is, Robert may treat him like garbage, but it’s not like he deserves better. Cassidy knows what he’s worth, and it’s not a nice dinner date on the beach. Robert settling for him is the best he’ll ever do.

(The only man who ever thought he was worth anything more than a quick fuck died, and not a day passes without him thinking Amanda would better off if it had been the other way around.)

So he follows him home once, twice, thrice and doesn’t think about the way the air feels colder at five a.m when you’re still trying to put your shirt on and definitely not running away. He sneaks home with bites on his collarbones and scratch marks down his back like a teenager who’s been mauled by a rabid wolf and went back for more, and tells himself this too shall pass like his therapist told him to, back when he was still seeing one.

He keeps the window open to remind himself it’s colder outside than it is inside.

His daughter is happy and going to a great college and the man who fucked him against a wall last night won’t even look him in the eyes when he calls their stupid thing off because Cassidy got too attached again.

Saying that he has conflicting feelings about this party would be an understatement.

But Cassidy is a father and he might not be all that great at it but he always does his best, so he smiles and smiles and plays with the lighter in his pocket with restless fingers.

They’re lively and loud: it helps, somewhat, to see Craig’s familiar grin and Mat’s flower crown, to hear Joseph’s calm voice in the chaos of his mind. They’re all terribly nice and it hurts ever so slightly each time he catches a glimpse of Robert in the corner of his eye, but he’s fine. He’s having fun, to a point.

It feels like he’s been holding his breath forever but it’s not what makes his chest burns and his eyes water. He feels sluggish, trapped, like he’s underwater and he can’t breach the surface.

The only way is down, now.

Craig is the last to leave, and he does so with a worried glance in his direction that he waves away, cheerful and terrified. Craid knew him in college, during the darkest period of his life, and that’s the look he always got whenever Cassidy did something so stupid even Kegstand Craig disapproved of it.

 After his departure, there’s nothing and no one left but Cassidy and Amanda and the setting sun bleeding gold all over the city.

“Ugh, cleaning.”

Old habits die hard and come back to life quicker than he expected. He says, “That’s a problem for tomorrow us,” and drags himself inside.

“That’s irresponsible,” Amanda grins. “I like it. Tomorrow me won’t, though.”

“Who cares.” Not a question. Cassidy ‘Rhetoric’ McGregor: that’s him. Then, “Ice cream?”

“Hell yes.”

No one can say no to ice cream

It’s quiet now that they’re alone: there’s the distant sound of the city, away from their suburban center, and birds chirping out of sight. Amanda is chattering about the party and the Emmas and college, all at once and too fast for him to hope to catch anything more than every other word so he just nods and hums at appropriate moments.

He doesn’t remember a single moment of that damn party.

--

Amanda gets up at 3 a.m for a glass of water. She almost missed him in the darkness, but the light of the streetlamps outside catches on his piercings for a second and she notices the mess that calls itself her father sprawled on their couch, wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

“You alright, pops?”

He sounds a little choked up when he says, “I‘m fine, Manda. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t look away from the ceiling. A notification pops up on his phone with a ding, quickly followed by three more, and he flinches, but that’s the only movement he makes. He doesn’t move to check what it’s about, or to turn his phone off. He just— stares.

Amanda walks back to her room without another word.

--

[Robert - 3:12 a.m]

hey

hey cassidy

hey

wanna hang out

in my bed

naked

?

--

Cassidy holds it together until Amanda is off to college. It’s a good score. He’s a little proud of himself for that.

The first thing he does when he comes back from the 14-hours long trip is to grab the bottle of wine he bought for pasta night and forgot in the cupboard and drink straight from it. It’s pretty mild but he’s tired and sad and it’s the only alcohol in the house so it’ll do.

--

[Craig - 5:25 p.m]

Hey bro! Join me @ the gym tomorrow?

[Cassidy - 6 p.m]

No can do bro

I’m exhausted

Sorry

[Craig - 6:02 p.m]

Oh yeah I forgot

Amanda’s all settled?

[Cassidy - 6:02 p.m]

Yup

[Craig - 6:03 p.m]

K, rest well bro

--

[Mat - 4 p.m]

A small punk band I know is playing in town tonight

Wanna come?

[Cassidy - 4:02 p.m]

Idk

Might just stay home tonight

Thanks

--

After that, it only gets darker, and blurrier.

It’s easy to go back to old bad habits if you’ve never gave them up so much as you put them on hold. God, he’s always been a mess, kept together by sheer spite and the knowledge that he won’t ever forgive himself if he fucks up his daughter. She’s the only good thing he’s ever brought into this world.

He alternates between cigarettes and alcohol to keep things interesting. The former he burns himself on, sometimes accidentally and sometimes not. The later he knocks back like he’s running from something and it burns not quite so differently when it goes down.

He loses track at some point and wakes up on his floor or his couch or in a back alley somewhere he doesn’t know with a pounding headache and a few blurry memories of the night before. He gets blackouts more often than not: it’s better that way. He avoids Jim and Kim’s: it feels like running away but there’s no one to tell him that.

The nights he doesn’t feel like forgetting everything, he picks up fights.

One of those nights finds him in a back alley that feels vaguely familiar, like somewhere he passed out before, getting punched in the face by a guy a foot taller that might be an ex-con — but not for much longer if he keeps hitting like that.

Cassidy looks up and he’s grinning with blood in his hair from a nasty cut above his eyebrow, blood everywhere from his bleeding nose. He can only taste copper and cheap beer and smiling hurts from where the guy’s ring opened his lips but he feels more alive than ever.

His highest is always half an hour away from his lowest. By the end of the night he’ll probably look and feel like roadkill, but  right now he’s alright. He already can’t feel his fingers anymore and his ribs have taken it upon themselves to be felt twice as much as usual to compensate. One or two of them might be bruised, but if it’s the case he’s a little (a lot) too drunk to notice.

Then he must pass out for a second, because he blinks and suddenly he’s against a wall and someone’s talking instead of hitting.

“What the hell, Cassidy?”

“Oh, hey Robert.” He’s still grinning and it hurts like hell. His vision is swimming. He grins harder. “I can’t feel my face.”

“Yeah, getting beaten up in an alley tends to do that to you. What did you do?”

“Dunno. Asked for it.” He chuckles, then winces when that pulls on his bruises. Shit, he’s felt better back when he was going through withdrawal.

A hand cradles his jaw, tilts his head. He squints when a street light shines right into his eyes, watches everything go blurry and soft through his eyelashes. Well, the blurry part was already there before, but the softness is new. Like the fingers on his skin, prodding new bruises with an odd sort of not-quite-gentleness, leaving a trail of warmth in their path.

“You look like shit.”

“Y’should see the other guy.” That reminds him- “Where… where did he go, an’way?”

Robert jerks his head to the side. Cassidy can just make out someone lying prone on the ground, in a puddle of something indescribable. “He sure did a number on you before that though. Must have pissed him off something fierce.”

“Haha, yeah.” He sighs, lets his eyes close all the way. Robert’s hand lingers on his face, thumb pressed lightly against his cheekbone. Maybe it’ll stay right there if he doesn’t bring attention to it.

But Robert’s smart about those things. About getting too close, literally or not. He draws back and Cassidy holds on to his smile like a lifeline, because there’s being pathetic and there’s being desperate and he’s not about to remind Robert that right now he’s very much both of these.

“Come on. I have a first aid kit in my car.”

“Weren’t you g’na do- y’know. Alcohol?”

“Do alcohol. Right. But somehow I found a human wreck on my way, so-”

“Don’t be like that.” He opens his eyes, even though it feels like the most effort he’s ever done in his life, and waves his hand in a vague shooing manner. “Go on. Get. ‘m fine.”

An aggravated sigh, before Robert grabs his arm and throws it around his shoulders. He hoists Cassidy up and starts walking, dragging him more than he’s carrying him. Cassidy feels hot from the tips of his fingers to his left hip, every point of contact radiating warmth. It’s a nice change from the cold.

God, he’s so cold.

A door opens and then he’s all but dropped on a car seat, only avoiding hitting his head on the top of the door by going completely lax as soon as no one’s holding him up. He slumps against the side of the seat while Robert goes to rummage around the front seat.

“I’m g’nna get blood all over your shit,” he whines.

“Don’t remind me. I’ll fax you the cleaning bill.”

He giggles. “You don’t have a fax.”

Robert comes back with a box in his hands, opens it to reveal the promised first aid kit. “You don’t know that.”

True. But- “I don’t have a fax.”

“That I can believe. Hold still.”

He smiles and stays very still, doesn’t even wince at the sting of disinfectant on his cuts. He’s had worse, but it never feels pleasant, doesn’t it? Only gets easier to bear.

For some definition of it, anyway.

He watches Robert through heavy lidded eyes as he works silently, cleaning every new wound and slapping a band-aid on any that needs it. He prods one of them for a moment longer, a deep gash from a broken bottle he didn’t see coming quickly enough.

“You’re lucky this doesn’t need stitches, because I draw the line at driving you to the ER at two a.m.”

“I could’ve stit- stich- stitched it up m’self.” God, words are hard. The alcohol’s hitting harder now, like it was just waiting for the right moment to remind him of the shots he was doing before the itch got worse and he had to find something else to keep his hands busy.

Robert makes a dubious sound in the back of his throat. “Sure you could.”

“I swear!” He jerks back and rolls up his sleeve with clumsy fingers to reveal another wound. It’s a week old, still held closed with his own shitty stitches, running through old track marks his arm is a connect-the-dots game. “Look!”

Robert recoils, frowning down at him as he pushes his arm down. “That looks like it was done by a drunk rat on crack.”

He gives it a serious second of thought before nodding. “Kinda was,” he says, because Robert isn’t the first person to call him a rat and at this point the moniker is almost starting to sound affectionate. Even though thinking ‘Robert’ and ‘affectionate’ in the same sentence hurts him, a bit, in that ‘old bruise you can’t stop touching’ kind of way. “‘xcept for the crack thing, ‘cus I’m clean, baby. Did ya know I’m clean? Did I- I… did I tell ya? Clean as a fucking…. Baby out of the bath, man.”

There’s something in Robert’s eyes he doesn’t know what to make of, something weird and not really soft, but not like the hard edge when he told him they were done, either. Then it’s gone and he gets up, closes the first aid kit with a snap and throws it on the front seat.

“You smell like a distillery. That’s not what I’d call clean.”

Cassidy leans back until he’s lying down across the backseat, staring through the window at the street light that blurs through his eyelashes. “‘s not the same though.”

Robert makes a soft sound. “No, I guess it isn’t.”

A moment passes. Then he’s being dragged up again, his legs pushes all the way inside as Robert wrestles a seatbelt around him. He tries to help for a bit but his hands always seem to get in the way, as they always do, and in the end he just tries to remain still in his confusion while Robert does his thing.

“What’re y’doing?”

“Getting you home.” Robert gets behind the wheel and turns the car on. “I’m not letting you walk all the way back to your house in that state.”

Cassidy thinks about objecting. Then, he thinks about nicer things, like the feeling of Robert’s hand on his cheek, his hot breath on the back of his neck, his nails clawing down his spine, stumbling out of this car together and through the door, into the bedroom and on the bed. Then, when the emptiness in his chest threatens to swallow him, he chokes out a, “That’s v’ry nice of you.”

“Please don’t throw up in my car.”

He doesn’t. He stays very quiet and very still for the drive back, slumped against the window, struggling to stay awake. He doesn’t manage it though because he wakes up with a start when the door opens, almost falls out if not for the seatbelt.

Robert has to carry him inside — really carry him this time, because his legs gave up somewhere between the bar and his house. He almost leaves Cassidy on his front step and then decides against it, goes through his pockets for his keys before unlocking the door one handed.

He drops him on his couch, kind of rearranging his limbs so he’s lying on his side before he draws back. Cassidy’s too tired to protest, and the better part of him knows it wouldn’t go well, anyway. But he wants to all the same. Wants Robert to stay close and maybe brush his hair out of his face and tells him he’s gonna be okay, like Alex used to do when things got really bad.

Instead he tucks his face in his arms until he can’t see the empty space in his living room and mumbles, “Thanks.”

He’s asleep before he can feel the weight of the blanket dropping on him, or hear the sound of the door closing after Robert — softly, quietly, so as to not wake him.

[ld200]

I love this blog of yours and I'm really happy there's people out there who are still into DBH! I've been browsing thru fanfics lately and I'm looking forward to reading your fic 'eternal winter' (I'm waiting until it's complete incase you don't end up finishing it) but I'm curious as to what your favourite scene/s in the game are. I have multiple but I'd probably say (one of my 'high on the list' faves) would be after Connor saves Hank and awnsers his questions correctly in CL tower. Thanks!

Oh hey thanks! :D Definitely still into DBH. Fixations tend to hold onto me for at least a couple years lol

Hah, I’m absolutely finishing Eternal Winter (on ao3 anyway; kinda abandoned ffn altogether) but I know I’m not the first one to say that about a story, and I won’t be the last, lmao. Honestly, it’s a huge fic so waiting until it’s done makes sense anyway bc it’s probably easy to forget about the details otherwise

Ooooh favorite scenes HMMMMM this might get long, bear with me

Well, let me at least mention Connor’s end-of-game scenes, for starters. Walking toward Hart Plaza with an army of androids behind him is so damn epic. Doesn’t mean anything on its own, but with everything Connor’s learned and done to get this far, it’s just so fucking satisfying

And then standing up there while Markus speaks, the blizzard in the garden & wondering What Would Have Happened post-game in either scenario (doesn’t escape & Amanda takes over = is he a machine again? reaches the stone & escapes = will it keep happening? is he truly free? etc. this was a good half of why I wanted to write that story to begin with)

BUT I think my actual favorite scenes have to be any and all of those developmental moments that really capture Connor’s character

Connor saving Hank on the roof. The stunned look he turns on Hank when Hank says “You’d have caught him if it wasn’t for me,” as if he’s never considered that anyone other than him can take the blame for something going wrong

On the flipside, the scene you get if you fail that sequence entirely and run out of time... I don’t remember the dialogue EXACTLY but god I loved it when I first discovered it. Something to the effect of:“That shouldn’t have happened. I wasn’t programmed to fail.”“Yeah, well, you fucked up, Connor. Welcome to the club.”I like that Hank doesn’t say it with anger, maybe a little annoyance, but overall it seems like he just thinks it’s ridiculous that Connor’s so upset with himself. Connor’s SO AFRAID OF FAILURE, like. It just permeates the whole game, and I really like that in this version of the scene Hank says something that’s just so humanizing and validating about it

The one scene in the zen garden when it’s pretty late in the game and Connor tries to ask Amanda SO MANY GOOD QUESTIONS that I had been wondering as the player as well, about who made the zen garden, what Cyberlife really wants, Elijah Kamski, whether Connor’s a unique model. etc. Depending on your choices in the story, I thiiiink (but am not sure) that it’s the same scene where he slowly admits to Amanda that he thinks he may be compromised, his LED going from blue to yellow to red as he says it, and then Amanda basically tells him “You’ve been in some difficult situations. It’s okay that you’re troubled. That doesn’t make you a deviant.” (again that’s probably not the exact line) I really like the visible conflict Connor has about coming to terms with it, and the way Amanda seems like she’s in denial of it just like he is

Absolutely fucking everything about the Meet Kamski chapter. I love some of his dialogue choices with Kamski too, he can really bite back. (Come to think of it I like any scene where you can choose options that have Connor in conflict with someone, whether it’s Kamski, Amanda, Gavin, or even Hank.) I prefer the version where he doesn’t shoot Chloe - his worry Hank is going to be upset with him for failing (there’s that again), the defensiveness about why he couldn’t shoot her, Hank’s lil smile and assurance that Connor did the right thing

THAT SAID there is one thing I also really like about the scene after he shoots Chloe: when Hank is all pissed off and having a Hank moment (rightfully so, this time, I mean Connor just killed someone, but anyway) and he moves in like he’s gonna grab Connor or shove him or something, and Connor pushes him back before he can. Again, Hank’s right to be pissed, BUT considering Connor gets literally and figuratively pushed around by almost everyone he encounters in the game (up to and including Hank), it’s nice to see that even a mission-focused Connor is deviant in his own way and will eventually push back. 

The Hug (tm)

“Statistically speaking, there is always a chance for unlikely events to take place” + “Don’t worry. I always accomplish my mission” + the whole marching downtown with an army of androids thing = CONNOR POST-DEVIANCY EXUDES SO MUCH CONFIDENCE and I live for it. You asked about scenes and this isn’t a scene, just a combination of things I like, but now u got me talking about Connor and I can’t stop ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I like the scene you mentioned as well! It’s the culmination of everything Hank sees in Connor, everything he hoped Connor was and could be. And I like it just as much for Hank’s sake as I do for Connor’s - it’s good to see him come to terms with his own shit about androids. And “maybe you’ll be the ones to make the world a better place” is just such a hopeful, charitable thing for him to say given the darker edges of his personality and I’m glad that he maybe sees things a little brighter than they were before. I don’t talk about Hank nearly enough but I really do love him as a character as well and I believe he’s an idealist at heart, even if it’s buried under a lot of grief and outward cynicism

I knew this would get long lol, thanks for asking, there’s so much fan content out there that I haven’t actually thought about the specifics of the game in a while and it’s nice to reconnect with it a bit

[letscuttothefeeling]

season three episode one

Okay everyone, Siesta Key just ended and I must say – I’m overall VERY pleased with the premiere of Season 3. Even though I know everything that’s happening in this season because I created a reddit account specifically for access to a thread dedicated to all things SK, and because they posted everything that happens on the Siesta Key Instagram, I was still shocked by one thing: how much I enjoyed the episode. Let’s cut to the feeling.

Fade in. There he is – the mystery man I’ve been dying to meet – SCOTT. That’s right, Fabienne’s husband. You may know him as Juliette’s Father. Chic French queen Fabienne and confused husband Scott congratulate Juliette on her graduation from FSU and suggest she become an attorney. Juliette has plans of her own – retail. They look elated. After making a weird sex joke to her Dad, and having visible difficulty adjusting to her new veneers, Juliette has graduated, the scene is over, and I am feeling great about the season.

If you’ve ever watched SK, you know three things for sure. 1. Juliette is a hideous crier. 2. Canvas’ Mother has a complete lack of understanding when it comes to parenting. 3. Kelsey and Juliette do NOT get along. UNTIL NOW! It’s very exciting to see their first scene as not only friends – but also roomies! Even though Kelsey’s bizarrely shaped eyebrows, over plumped fake lips and orange spray tan make me feel like she must have NO real friends, because certainly, they wouldn’t let her butcher her appearance so thoroughly, she and Juliette seem to get along swimmingly by talking mad shit about Chloe. We love to see women supporting women by talking shit about other women.

Chloe, you minx! Chloe pulls up to Alex’s mansion in a Bentley toting about ten designer bags and a serious attitude. After she explains to his mother that she’s taken it upon herself to pickuppe some “luxury” clothing items for Alex in Sarasota, Florida, even though he’s quite literally in EUROPE, she also *subtly!* drops that he’s left behind his personal credit card for her own use. Weird brag, but more importantly: cha-ching! After talking shit about Juliette to a grown woman, they switch the conversation to Madisson’s new man. Queue Malibu by Miley Cyrus. Ma-jor props to whoever created the playlist for this epi.

After a stunning underwater montage from Florida to Cali, we see aspiring model/actress Maddison walking into a dinner date. Even though Chloe’s just gabbed to Alex’s mother that Braddison is no more, I still half expect BG to pop up and hold the door open for Madi. Just kidding, I don’t, because the producers of this show spilled quite literally every twist before it aired. Wait, speaking of producers – who is Madisson on a date with? Oh, it’s “ISH”, the FORTY-SIX-YEAR-OLD, BALD, AND OVERWEIGHT FORMER PRODUCER OF SIESTA KEY. Unlike Juliette’s father, Scott, I’ve met Madisson’s Dad before, so it’s not immediately apparent to me as to why she has serious Daddy issues. I’m hoping the root of this unfolds during the season. Ish, or “baby” as Madisson calls him, (again, he’s 46, so I’m not sure “baby” is the most fitting nickname, but to each her own) decides it will be totally normal to jet back to the key and surprise the children he used to exploit the cast with the announcement of his new relationship. I can’t wait.

Okay, we’re back at a dinner date – but a much more age-appropriate one between Juliette and her new man, former bachelorette contestant, Robby. I’m not a bachelor franchise fan and unfortunately for Robby, I’m NOT a Robby fan either. He’s not hot and he’s not cool. That’s literally it. Discussing this further would be a waste. Oh, it’s worth noting that new roomies Chloe and Madisson also meetuppe during this time to discuss Madisson and Ish. (Mish, if you will. Some prefer Dadisson.) Thank you, Chloe, for reacting to the news in a very relatable way by chugging alcohol and hiding in your clothing.

Um, who is this hottie emerging from a PJ? It’s the fabulous Cara, with a new nose! Normally I love to hate her - she has that je ne sais quoi – but right now, I just love her. Removing your nose job bandages on film is the kind of 2020 realness I need in my life. Enter G BABY! We’ve missed you and your utter lack of awareness, Garrett! But the love birds aren’t exactly happily reuniting – there’s def some tension in the air. Uh oh! Cara immediately becomes annoyed that Garrett both broke her heart AND kept his lips shut about her new nose. Poll – would you rather your boyfriend intentionally squeeze your fat as fuck thighs, or neglect to comment on your surgically enhanced face? The choice is yours.

While Juliette’s graduation party is great, if Alex doesn’t throw a start-of-the-summer rager, I’m suing MTV. More specifically, I’m suing YOU, Gary. Anyways, as Juliette and de ghurls are getting ready for the party, Juliette’s asked who she likes boning more – Boring Robby or shrek Alex. She hesitates for a moment but then says Robby. I take that pregnant pause as a confirmation of what I’ve known all along – Alex is great in bed and that’s the only reason Juliette was obsessed with him. (Edit – this has been confirmed on her Instagram story.)

Cut to: Cara, G baby, and Cara’s new androgynous and likely lesbian friend, Victoria, getting drinks. I don’t know what’s more confusing – the fact that Cara claims Victoria is her best friend or the fact that Garrett continues to piss Cara off by defending Kelsey while she incessantly brings her up.

Party time! But it wouldn’t be a party without Chloe intervening in something that has nothing to do with her in an attempt to destroy Juliette’s happiness. While wearing a Kentucky derby inspired hat/headband, nonetheless! Chloe and Amanda sit down with Boring Robby the second he arrives to grill him with some genual questions about his “intentions” with Juliette. And I can’t help but immediately think of that scene in Twilight when Police Chief Charlie Swan pulls out his shotgunné to intimidate his daughter’s 108-year-old vampire soul mate. Thank you, Catherine Hardwicke/ Stephanie Meyers, for this image.

At this point, I have to question Chloe’s sexuality because I can’t think of a single other reason as to why she would be so invested in Juliette’s relaysh with Robby. Is he a “phony”, simply using Juliette for fame? Maybe! But aren’t they all kind of doing that anyway? It’s like, they’re on a reality show for God’s sake. After Boring Robby says absolutely nothing of interest, (read: BORING Robby,) something actually exciting happens. Kelsey slithers over to publicly flirt with G baby in an attempt to piss off Cara, and it totally WORKS! Nice!

The second Cara sees Kelsey and G baby talking, her eyes fill with fire and she almost burns her new nose off. It’s funny that she portrays herself as such a sophisticated, cosmopolitan gal, yet she’s so blatantly insecure about trashy Kelsey and Garrett, the braindead body of meat, talking about absolutely nothing. Stop slumming it and start dating Zaddies like Madisson!

After Garrett tells Kelsey that Cara has banned him from talking to her, Kelsey marches up to Cara, grabs her by the hand, and you just KNOW the rumors are true – World War III is HAPPENING! Kelsey and Cara immediately establish that they’re not each other’s “kind of person”, and then Kelsey tells Cara that she can’t wait for Cara’s “life to explode.” Cara fires back with the ULTIMATE diss, claiming that Kelsey doesn’t even have her GED! We find out this is, in fact, not true via Instagram, thanks to Kelsey’s iconic photo of none other than GARRETT holding her on her graduation day. Okay, high school level educated kween! Go off!

Pls note caption

Here’s the thing: I dislike Cara and Kelsey, both for entirely different reasons, but IMO, Kelsey won this round. Cara came off as insecure, psychotic, and just plain mean! Cara, a word of advice? Stop gallivanting around tacky Florida and return home to America’s Kingdom – New Jersey.

 Pay close attention everyone - we’re almost done and you’re about to witness reality show television HISTORY. And it is a BAG. OF. WEIRD. After Boring Robby buys Juliette a trip to Greece, Madisson and her new Dad man walk in, and EVERYONE IS SHOOK. Seriously. The cast is genuinely shocked. Please note their faces when Madisson and Ish waltz into Juliette’s grad party hand in hand. Arguably the most thrown off person of all, of course, is BG. He hastily confronts his former producer, and refers to Ish’s relationship with his ex as a “bag of weird.” Honestly, Brandon, I have to agree with you. And so does literally everyone else in the world.

After Brandon huffs, puffs, and exits, everyone gets over the initial shock of Madisson’s upsettingly old “boy”friend and the episode winds down. But there’s one twist. We learn via Chloe’s texts that Alex is on his way back from Europe. Probably wearing all the luxe clothes Chloe shipped him from Siesta Key. Because who trusts European clothes, am I right? Anyways, something tells me that Boring Robby doesn’t stand a chance once Alex touches down on the Key. But we’ll have to wait until next week to find out.

Fin

[blue-bird-kny]

Hi Amanda, how are you doing? thanks for writing my request with Obanai, it was lovely and made me super soft. I liked the way he is affectionate in his unique way. I came because i dreamt something and I think you could write something with it! So, could i request Rengoku and Sanemi meeting their s/o on a garden they had never seen before, one of those that have ponds with koi and they keep finding excuses to come back and spend time with s/o? Thank you a lot, and take care!

Thank you for requesting again! This sounds like such a soft dream I hope you slept well that night. Also, I chose to write for just Sanemi so I hope that is okay:) Enjoy~Amanda (Creds to Artist)

Warning: Cussing

“In the Flowers”

(1.5K words)

It was the same everyday; Sunrise to sunset you tended to the garden of Oyakata-sama’s Estate. It was strange, you never knew such jobs like groundskeeper could be held by demon slayers, but Oyakata-sama offered you the position after he found you one night crying. You’d been miserable fighting demons, it was a miracle you’d even passed Final Selection. The life of a demon slayer just wasn’t for you, the harsh demands and long nights were beginning to take a toll on your health. He allowed you to continue working for the corps, just on a smaller scale, a job you were very good at. What could you say, you just got along with plants. Usually you’d spend the day alone, the occasional visit from Oyakata-sama himself or other members of the corp, but that all changed after he arrived.

He came across your garden accidentally. He says he was just ‘wandering around’ but really the real reason was because he’d lost his way through the winding corridors of the estate. As you tended to the roses, skillfully avoiding the sharp ends of their thorns, you hadn’t noticed his sharp eyes watching your every movement. Amongst the various blooming flowers that grew in the garden, Sanemi knew at first glance that you were the most captivating one of them all.

Your beauty was overwhelming, it blinded his senses and suddenly Sanemi could’t remember where he was going, but he knew that it didn’t matter because you were here. For reasons Sanemi couldn’t understand, he wanted, no needed to know who you were. His smirk was brimming with confidence as he made his way over to where you stood, so lost in your world of thorns and petals you hadn’t a clue anyone was there.

Sanemi was never one to be insecure, but with every step that brought him closer made his confidence drop little by little, his thoughts causing him to falter. It was too late though because when you spun around expecting hydrangeas, you found the scarred face of the wind hashira far too close to yours. “What are you doing?!” you yelled in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks.

You tried to move as far away as possible from the man, but of course you managed to trip over the rose bushes you’d previously been tending to. “Shit I’m going to fall!” you panicked, your eyes closed as you scrunch your face together. Instead of the cool, rough touch of the stone clad ground, your flailing body was caught by a pair of strong arms. Briefly a pair of concerned eyes stared into yours, but just as quickly they returned to their natural harsh gaze. A single breath was shared between your two forms, that's all it took for Sanemi to awkwardly place you on your feet. “Don’t be a dumbass!” he warned.

Your eyes traveled between his wide eyes to the hands that tightly held onto your arms. “Please remove your hands” your voice was timid, you’d already screwed up so much you didn’t want to further upset him. Quickly, as if your skin was suddenly scorching hot, Sanemi ripped his hands from your body. “You idiot!” he turned to leave as he felt the unfamiliar warm coat that began to spread through his face. He’d be damned if he allowed anyone, much less you, see him blush.

You stood wordlessly as you watched his retreating form, “What just happened?”

Days passed quietly after your little ‘incident’ with the hashira. Things went back to normal; you spent the days alone in your garden, just you and your plant pals. Usually the prospect of being surrounded by your plants was delightful, but something was bothering you. Gnawing at the back of your mind, consuming your thoughts “Why had he been here anyways?”.

It was a question you were dying to have answered, he must have needed something. Almost like he was summoned from your thoughts, Sanemi cleared his throat to grab your attention, this time a safe distance away. You both stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say. Sanemi opened his mouth first, “You never said thank you”. That was the best he could come up with, he didn’t quite understand why he’d come back but his feet unconsciously brought him back to your garden.

“Thank you?”

“Your welcome.”

You were dumbfounded, this man really came all the way over here because you didn’t say thank you? Like you owed him one? As frail and innocent as you appear, you’ve always been one to put up a good fight. “You came all the way over here so that I could say thank you? You asshole , don’t you have anything else to do with your time? I thought you Hashira were important and busy, I’m sure there is someone who needs you so go find them instead of harassing me, I’m working” anyone could tell you were pissed. “Shit now she's upset, fix this” Sanemi internally panicked, he wasn’t exactly a ‘people person’ nor was he prepared to handle a crush.

You returned to your plants, aggressively sniping at the weeds. The hot blood coursing through your veins pumped loudly in your ears, Sanemi had never expected that you’d be a hot-tempered person but it only made him fall further for you. You jumped in surprise at the pressure of his rough hand on your shoulder, peering up to find a much softer expression over his face. “Would you listen for a damn second” he lowered himself next to your crouched form. “I didn’t come back for your thanks alright, I came back because…..” his words trailed off, you watched as he racked  his brain for the right words. It was strange how you could find this person, who just made you so upset, so endearing in this vulnerable state.

“I wanted to watch you garden”

You didn’t know what made this rigid man to visit you twice now, but you never expected it was for gardening tips. Curiosity drove your responses as you turned your attention away from the man before you, “Fine” you continued removing weeds, “but stay out of my way, I can’t guarantee I won’t accidentally cut off you finger”

Sanemi smiled; he didn’t know where this was going to go or what was to come of your gardening sessions together, but for now he was content with just watching you.

With each day you and Sanemi spent time together, the closer you both grew. Like a flower needs the sun, Sanemi craved your light. Even he didn’t understand this feeling, he didn’t want it to go away. “Tomorrow” Sanemi promised himself as he watched you concentrate, tongue slightly peeking out between parted lips, “Tomorrow I’ll make her mine”

The next day, Sanemi was nowhere to be found. A frown had taken permanent residence on your face as the hours passed. He was a Hashira and did have responsibilities after all, but you felt that maybe he would have told you instead of just disappearing. “Stop it (y/n), your over reacting”  

You were so stuck inside your own head, you failed to notice the presence of the one person you’ve waited to see all day. Standing there, with a bouquet of Snow Lily’s gripped tightly in his palms, was a nervous Sanemi. He hesitantly walked over to your pouting form.

“Is she upset because I wasn’t here?” his confidence inflated, his usual smirk overcoming his face one again. The idea that you wanted him around made his ego explode. “Don’t look so glum, you're too beautiful for that” he commented, catching your attention. As if someone flipped a switch deep inside you, your lips broke into a wide grin.

He noticed your curious eyes watching the flowers he held, “They’re for you. I remember you said once these were your favorite but they were hard to find so you didn’t grow them.” he pushed them into your hands. “So I found them for you, that’s why I didn’t tell you about today” he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. You stared at the lilies in your hands, their delicate petals a brilliant white adorned with accents of a deep pink. Your eyes welled with tears “he did this for me?”

“Hey what’s with the water...ugh!” he grunted in surprise as you flung yourself in his direction, his arms instinctively catching your form. “Thank you” you voice was quiet, “nobody has ever done something so thoughtful for me. I’ll never be able to repay you for this” your words caused Sanemi to smile, easing into the impromptu hug.

“You don’t have to repay me, it’s a gift”

You stared into his soft eyes, so filled with sincerity it was hard to hide the love you felt for Sanemi any longer. In the quiet space you two shared, surrounded by nothing but warmth and flowers, you both leaned towards each other. Your lips touched in a feather-light kiss, meeting again with much more intensity and passion.

Your breathes became one as you two pulled apart, panting lightly.

“We should do that more often”

Main Masterlist

Yay another request done! I’m sorry it took so long and that I’ve been updating very slowly, but I do have some plans that I think are going to be fun so stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed, please stay healthy!~Amanda

[forthisone]

The Handmaid’s Tale Season 3

Season 3 thoughts so far. Spoilers up to 3.09.

This got shouty and long.

June’s headspace

I didn’t hate Episode 9. It just seems like the reason for Episodes 7-9 was ….. to….. get June pissed off enough with Gilead to act?

Except, um, June ALREADY was pissed off with Gilead (understatement of the century), enough to act. Wasn’t she?!

Remember the Season 2 finale, her giving her child to Emily and then lifting her hood back with this “I’m so done.” look on her face? And the opening “Sorry, baby girl, Mom’s got work” scene in Episode 1? WAS THAT NOT MEANT TO BE HER RALLYING?! And here we are, nine episodes later……………………… yeah.

I just don’t need episode after episode of June staring angrily in to space and then coming to the realisation of “Fuck Gilead”… cause, yeah. Obviously. It feels like this is all there is at the moment. I know I’m far from the first to say this but seriously. She doesn’t seem human anymore.

It’s hard for me to compare what it must have been like to watch Seasons 1 & 2 with new episodes releasing weekly, with this season, because I binge watched Seasons 1 & 2 in like three days. But I’m sure it can’t have felt this drawn out?!

Disjointedness

I’ve realised that one of the main reasons I don’t like this season is because everything feels so disjointed from previous episodes. We have clusters of episodes about one particular thing and then it feels like the focus completely shifts to something else.

Episode 1 was setup.

Episodes 2 and 3 were mainly focused around Lawrence. We’ve seen hardly any Lawrence in recent episodes.

Episode 4 was about Fred and Serena’s relationship. Firstly, I DON’T CARE. Secondly, I don’t see the point now as I don’t think the dynamic has changed that much now in Episodes 6&7 (the last time we saw them together) from what it ever has been.

Episode 5 was mainly around Nichole/Holly and Luke. We haven’t seen either since Episode 5. We don’t know how Luke feels about the cassette tape still; we’re not seeing him trying to keep Nichole in Canada.

Episode 6 was about Washington, the televised campaigns. Among other things, Nick’s motivation/allegiance was raised into question, which to me at the time seemed like it was the start of a storyline for his character. But, again, no Nick (not even a mention of June’s thoughts around this question) since Episode 6.

Episode 7 we move June’s focus from Nichole to Hannah. Also, ARGENTINE TANGO and Real Housewives of Gilead cause why not.**

Episodes 8 and 9…. June loses it. Aunt Lydia has a shit reason for becoming Aunt Lydia. But by the end, oh, June’s ok again, and seems to be back in a similar headspace as she was at the beginning of Episode 1. So, great? ………

Why did any of these things happen?! We could be back at the end of Episode 1 and most of the characters would be in the same place. The only changes are that the Waterfords have reconciled and moved(?) to Washington, Hannah has been moved away, Serena wants Nichole back instead of out, tensions/discussions with Canada have increased. None of this really feels that game-changing. Have I missed anything else that may have bearing on future storylines?! Apart from Nick going to the front? And some people know he’s Holly’s father?

Lack of characters we love

And please GOD pay more attention to the characters we have cared about for the last two seasons. This season is missing SO MUCH compassion and humanity. That’s what makes the show. The defiance of these characters in the face of brutal adversity. The only consistently shown characters this season have been Serena, Fred and Lydia. Great actors, but these three are not characters that get us through the darkness of the show. We need some light. Thank God for Janine.

Like, at this point I’m even pining over Luke. (I don’t hate Luke, far from it, I have just never ‘missed’ him before and I never expected to).

Don’t even get me started on the lack of Rita. Amanda Brugel, I am sorry and I miss you.

Thoughts on Nick

I’m sorry, I know he’s not the focus (apparently) but I love him, so:

So on the one hand I’m glad I only got in to The Handmaid’s Tale and Nick & June two months ago because I can’t imagine having to wait a whole year after Season 2 and then to only be given THIS MUCH. Prior to Season 3 he’s only been absent from TWO(2) episodes (1.07 and 2.11).

Nine episodes and only three appearances? Arreeee you kidding me, show. He’d better be in it next week or I’m just going to explode.

(sidenote: Please, no spoilers, don’t tell me if he is or isn’t, I don’t want to know.)

On the other hand, I’m pissed because I feel like I have ONLY JUST got into this ship (relatively speaking) but am now having to watch it slowly die from lack of love. I wish I’d had months to enjoy rewatching Seasons 1 and 2 and bask in the glory before going through this drought.

Also, June’s not the same. I feel like their relationship can’t be the same as it was before. It’s never going to be the same. Uuuuuuugh everything is awful. I’m ok with their relationship changing but only if it feels like their last two seasons aren’t just being disregarded. I don’t think I’m going to get another scene with them together this season and I can’t cope with that! It’s not enough.

I just hope they have a reason for depriving the show of Nick for this long. I hope there’s some serious payoff, because I SWEAR TO GOD...

If they bring him back only to kill him *~*dRaMatiCally*~* for shock value two or three episodes later I WILL BE. OUTRAGED.

Random other thoughts

Is it just me or did there seem to be SO MANY children pouring in to the hospital in this episode (apparently of a similar age… hitting puberty). Pretty sure there are not meant to be so many children, even in Gilead?

Regarding Episode 8, I was so disappointed in Aunt Lydia’s backstory. I really thought something truly horrific must have happened to her in her past life to make her act this way. It’s not even like the man rejected her. He just wasn’t ready to have sex with her after one date, and she felt embarrassed. And maybe some repressed feelings about women were alluded to too, but, wow, it just wasn’t enough to explain how she is now.

**This is embarrassing to admit, but, you know, I remember seeing a clip of the cast flashdancing while filming that Ball scene in 3.07. And being so excited about it thinking “Hmm, maybe if it’s a Commander’s Ball, Nick will be there too! And if they can shoehorn June in too, maybe they can dance together somehow in secret”. I see now how deluded I was. Like that was clearly purely my shipper brain talking and it would have been so contrived, I’m kind of glad they didn’t, but still OH HOW WRONG I WAS. Vomit. I just assumed … dance = romantic = Nick and June. Not FRED AND SERENA. Fml.

Again, no spoilers please and thank you.