#but i like the idea of jj as betty more

[reds-writings]

i really enjoyed ''jealousy, jealousy''!!! can you maybe write headcanons for jealous reader or jealous rust? thanks!!!

hi!! i can absolutely expand on the topic! here's a lil blurb on jj!reader feeling jelly but let's dive in some more!

the concept of jealousy is something that eats at rust's pride like a motherfucker

he'll act like he's above it but as displayed in JJ he can turn into one mean petty betty whether he wants to admit it or not

it totally becomes your problem (even though it's not bc he's the emotionally withdrawn party) and when it comes to acknowledging the idea of you giving your more romantic attention to someone else he can be downright judgy

even if he doesn't blame you for having wants and needs, as most do per their instinctual programming, it ends up being easier to take out his boiling frustrations on you (pushing you away is a knee-jerk reaction, unfortunately)

mans is pining most ardently and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he can't quite place

his pessimistic spiels find themselves being expressed at an insufferable increase (marty almost wants to call out on the daily)

he gets so cranky that the blonde gets sick of it and tells him to buck up or quit the shit (he can't stand this drama queen)

it'd take a lot for him to physically interfere/blow up (as well as a drink or two) and he'd end up feeling more shame than anything (i.e. his reaction to reader flaming him for acting like some primitive asshole)

he hasn't felt anything of this nature in a very long time and is extremely distrusting of such notions but there comes a point where it can no longer be denied

definitely takes some time for him to come to terms with but you also don't let him drag you around while he figures it out

as for you!

you try to play jealousy off all cool (really you're just desperately shoving it down)

even though you're plenty riled up on the inside and you'd hate to make him aware (he'd eat it right up. the bastard)

you also don't want to embarrass yourself nor do you want to burden him with a possible childish outburst like you were back in high school or something (he gets spooked easily enough)

if you're already in a bit of a fling he'll lowkey enjoy the idea of you being territorial but if it's the beginning stages of being something to each other he'd believe you'd need to seek someone better

marty finds this to be a lot more amusing than rust's pissiness bc you're a lot more huffy and aloof that it's almost comical

"honey, you're no better than some teen queen left by her lonesome at the prom-" "can it, martin"

he'll tease you about it but you'll swear up and down that you're professional and rust can do whatever the hell he wants in his free time (ironic to mention you're all grown adults but act quite the contrary)

the energy is so palpable that the whole precinct could probably feel it y'all are not subtle (you'd probably bitch slap geraci too if he'd try to make snide comments)

you're not as explosive as rust with your little case of green but rust somehow weeds it out of you one way or another

it's a lot more teasing, dare i say lighthearted (as much as it could be with the texan) compared to his own experience with jealousy

[schnabel53]

Barry

I have no idea what to do here, joined tumblr this morning because funny Jetpack man. Here are some pen sketches :D

The funny man himself plus Flash, ignore that I’m drawing these on a book.

Thinks he’s cool, which he TOTALLY is. Attachment to characters in SO REAL. I’m so normal about him and definitely didn’t buy the Halfbrick art book for him.

He’s confused but he’s got the spirit. I love the punk monster dash skin, most of the skins in monster dash are banger but this is my personal favorite.

I am the NUMBER ONE fan of Betty Beefpies. Give me more of this woman I need her, but why is she wearing a skirt in JJ2. UNLESS it one of those comfy ones with shorts and pockets attached. Also she looks weird here 1) because of the text behind her and 2) she looks too young. The iris and pupil is too big along with the whole eye that doesn’t help, her face is too small and round even though it’s feminine which is dumb. She needs to look more like Barry. You may be able to tell I love Betty and I care about how I draw her, I hope we’re able to see her in the JJ webseries but probably not :(

Sometime I’m gonna draw them digital, but here’s monkeys instead.

[damonsalvitorewife]

Hiiii!!!!!! Huge fan!! Can please please please do OBX x RIVERDALE x reader. Where she is JB twin sister she is dating JJ and she finds out he cheated on her with Kie. She moves to riverdale and meets Jughead. I kind of want her to take the place of Betty. I love betty. Can the readers name be Bailey so we can still have B and V? Bailey Jug Archie and Ronnie all go to meet Baileys family. JJ gets all made bc he relized he lost Bailey. And calls Bailey a slut and mean names. Jug gets made and starts defending her and is like " She did nothing wrong your the one who hurt her." "Say one more thing about her and I'll ripe your throat out." JJ trys to punch him and jug is like " I,ve had my tattoo carved out, Someone tried to kill me with a rock, belive me I can take a hit." And JJ is talking about jug and Bailey goes "Hey JJ shut the fuck up." As she punches him. "Talk about my fiance like that again and you will be sorry." and everyone is like "Fiance?" John b goes " he cand be your fiance your only 17." " Well I'm emancipated so I can get married. Infact we are getting married tommorow." "I came here to invite you guys." and they all huge on her. and JJ apoligises. Sorry I know this is like all over the place.

I absolutely love this idea. It may take a while to come out with but it will get done! Thank you for all the support! ❤️☺️

[jjblunt]

i shouldnt write fics that are more than two parts bc i have serious trouble committing but…. a folklore love triangle…. <333 thinking thoughts

[jeyramarie]

Okay it's like 1AM and I have a math and history exam tomorrow in the same day but whatever, can I ask for a kiara carrera x reader (female if possible) where reader is lesbian (and likes kiara) but is scared to come out cuz her family are this perfect family they are rich and and well known and readers parents are known to be perfect and so everyone expects reader to be smart top of the class talented and over all just perfect and they especially expect reader to be straight so she goes and dates JJ so people won't think less of her and kiara who has been crushing over reader for years now is really unhappy about it and she's all jealous and at first reader thinks it's cuz kiara likes JJ but later on kiara starts saying things to reader like "I bet we'd look good together don'tyou think so y/n?" And reader is all frustrated and blushy and she starts getting more touchy with reader and doing cute shit like comparing hand sizes just to piss JJ off and hoping reader might start liking her back (which reader already does) and well this ask has been long so that's pretty much it, could they like end up together too idk how I have no ideas, also can reader be like this outgoing soft bubbly girl that's always there for everyone cuz like my shyness could never bring me to even be outgoing or be there for people so here is where I escape that, also can reader be girly, that's all damn this is one long ask but um make sure you eat well and drink water, don't forget the water it's important and take care of yourself you're important too and I hope you have a wonderful morning/evening or night wherever you have. Ba byeee <3

don’t think i forgot you😭 i left it for last because i wanted to get every detail right, or try to. i hope you like it 🥲❤️ take care, babes😌

You’re a kook but just like Kiara, you hung out with pogues and felt like one too. Your parents were betty uptight and demanding. They wanted to be the family everyone would want. So, they asked for perfection. They demanded perfect grades, good etiquette, perfect talent, everything.

But you weren’t at all perfect. You’d been keeping a secret for some time and you never knew how you were going to say it, or even say it at all. You were gay, lesbian to be exact. How will you break to your parents that their “perfect daughter” was far from that?

All that brought you to date JJ, fake date him. He knew the whole truth and was all in when you presented your plan. The only thing was that not even the pogues knew you were gay or that you really liked Kiara.

You were all hanging out at the Chateau and you were sitting next to JJ as he explained something about C.H.U.D. to Pope. Kie walked in and immediately frowned after seeing you next to the blonde. No one knew it but she was crazy over you as well.

“Kie, you okay?” You asked feeling concerned as you watched her throw her bag on the dining table.

“Yeah.” She answers dryly and sat across from you. 

“Okay, JJ, that makes no sense.” Pope stood up, walking towards the small cooler to grab another beer. 

“What makes no sense?” You chuckled, pulling your feet up on the chair. 

“Some C.H.U.D stuff babe. He’s completely hating on it. You know what, Pope? You just don’t have good taste.” JJ said, playing with her vape pen. 

“What do you mean I don’t have good taste?” 

“You don’t like C.H.U.D, man and it’s awesome. Right, babe?” The blonde said, tapping your thigh which caused you to nod and smile. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Kie look down at her hands with a frown. And it took everything in you to not go up to her and kiss her. You stood up and walked over to the cooler, grabbing two beers. One for you and one for Kie. You sat down next to her, sipping from your beer as you stared at the boys. Her eyes burnt into you as she looked at you up and down. 

“I bet we’d look good together don’t you think so, Y/n?” Kie throwed her arm over your shoulder causing you to look at her and back at JJ. She wanted to make him jealous and make you all nervous. And she succeeded. 

“Um.. I-I think so.” You stuttered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“I’m gonna go inside.” JJ muttered.

“Wait, J-”

“Nah, forget it.” He said disappearing into the Chateau. 

That was one of the many times that Kie’s actions pissed JJ off. “Pissed him off”. He was only pretending of course which made it fun whenever you went to “see what was wrong” when in reality you guys laughed and planned your next move. 

A few days after, they were all hanging out at the marsh on the HMS. You were suntanning with Sarah and Kie on the boat as the boys swam around. The current topic was jewelry. There was a fancy kook party coming up and Sarah had invited all of you which led you to scrap for pretty pieces of jewelry. 

“I mean, you can wear my rings.” Kie suggested. 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Your hands are bigger than mine.” You groaned, sitting up to sip some water but instead your hand was pulled to your side as Kie placed both hands together. Her skin was soft against yours and the touch made your heart skip a beat. 

“Oh, it’s true. Your hands are so tiny.” Kiara chuckled, rubbing her thumb over your hand. At that moment, JJ was on the boat, water dripping from his hair as he cleared his throat causing you to yank your hand away from the pogue. 

“You know this is getting annoying, why don’t you tell her already?” JJ said abruptly causing your eyes to open wide in shock. 

“Tell me what?” Kie chuckled looking at you and back at the blonde. 

“Shut up, J.” You muttered with gritted teeth. 

“Just fucking tell her, Y/n.” The blonde said once again getting everyone’s attention. 

“Tell me what?!” 

“That Y/n likes you.” 

Silence filled the boat as everyone stared at you but your eyes were kept on the ground while tears ran down your cheeks. You wanted the marsh to just open and swallow you at that point. 

“Y/n?” Kie whispered causing you to look up at her. 

“Um... maybe we should leave you girls alone..” Sarah whispered and stood up, pulling JJ off the boat to go swim with the boys. 

“What JJ said, is that... was he telling the truth?” The pogue asked and you sniffled. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and nodded  before wiping tears away. 

“I’m sorry, I- I didn’t want you to find out this way.” You whispered and continued to cry, pulling your knees closer to your chest. 

A soft hand touched your knee, causing you look up to see Kiara. Her hand drifted to you jaw, softly grazing her fingers over your skin. And before you could speak, her soft lips were pressed against yours in a sweet kiss. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your hand flew to cup her cheek, pulling her closer to you. The pogues hollered in joy as you separated from the kiss with bashful smiles. 

[statticscribbles]

Nomenclature

Summary: Cheryl/Jones!Reader Request: After finding out FP is to blame for Jason’s death; what would happen to their relationship and then after they figure out it was actually Clifford Blossom.

Cheryl’s voice floats into your ears. It’s then you realize she’s not talking to you, she’s talking next to you. To the space closest to you without needing to acknowledge you; you hope it’s because she still has feelings for you. Although as she presses herself against the wall as you step forward; you watch her eyes shine and you understand. Cheryl Blossom, your girlfriend, is afraid. You leave deciding you’re unwilling to know if it is fear for you or of you. “I know what Jones’ are capable of!” She shouts after you. You bite your tongue to not shout back. You let your brother pull you into a hug. “I’m guessing trying to explain it to her didn’t go well?” You shrug as Jughead keeps his arm around you, you follow him from the school and towards the holding cell in the sheriff’s station. “I’m only capable of loving her; why can’t she see that?” You kick a rock from the pathway as you trudge towards the station.

“She can; that’s what scares her. She can avoid a murderer, she can avoid me cause I mean nothing to her. Only thing worse than someone who hates you;” He pauses stumbling slightly so you’re forced to turn around. You catch Cheryl jerking back to hide. “Is someone who loves you.” “Jug, she hates me! Did you not hear her threaten to cut me from the Vixen’s earlier, or about how I shouldn’t touch her with “murder child hands” He laughs as you scowl.

“If she hated you she would have broken up with you. Or gotten you expelled” He nods and shoves you towards her. You keep your eyes on the ground. “I can’t forgive your father.” She spits and you nod. “Can you forgive me?” “Why?” You meet her eyes surprised to see her confused. “You didn’t do anything Y/N, you didn’t kill JJ, you didn’t help your dad hide the body, you did nothing wrong.” “My dad did.”

“Yes he did, but I’m not having my girlfriend suffer due to guilt by association. Beside’s Jason would want me to be happy, and being with you is what makes me happy.” You nod at her turning back as you hear Jughead open the door to the Sheriff’s station. “I have to go, visiting hours are tight.” She nods and you try your best to steel yourself for her being gone once you leave.

Your dad’s not angry you’re still with Cheryl, he seems more surprised than anything, offering you and Jughead only one mouthful of advice. To leave it alone. You’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what he means for you and Jughead to leave alone but you find out quickly when they find a usb drive tucked into Jason’s jacket.

There’s no sound on the video, you’re thankful for that and you stare fearfully at Betty as she moves from the now closed laptop and pulls her phone out. You stumble up, towards your bike, trying to shove Jughead off you, but he keeps his hands on your shoulders. “No Y/N. Stay; it’s safer. You don’t know what they’d do if you show up. The daughter of the man that killed their son?” “It wasn’t dad! It wasn’t him! We have; I have to let Cheryl know! She’s not safe there! She’s not safe!” Jughead nods pulling you back towards the shed. “We’ll take care of it. Seriously, don’t worry.”

“You’re telling me that it’s okay to let my girlfriend stay in a house with her father, who murdered her brother, and I’m not supposed to worry?How would you feel if Betty’s dad murdered someone and she was staying with him?” You snap and smirk when he stays quiet. “Well you still can’t just run up and break her out.” You huff and sit back on the couch.

—————————————————————————————- Despite everything that’s happened it’s school as normal. You’re nervous about returning to Cheryl’s side, as the unwavering popularity had fastened itself around her it seemed to slide off of you. What had been glares for being a Southsider, and then glares for being the daughter of a murderer had now morphed back into a surprisingly normal glare, the envy of being popular, the envy of being with Cheryl.

You settle back into the routine of school, of being with the HBIC; you find small things have changed, one of which is Cheryl bringing you home. You’re slowly growing more terrified as you walk up the steps waiting for her mother or nana to appear and demand you leave and never return. The house is empty, void of anything that resembles the home Cheryl would describe to you. She brings you up to her room, sitting on her bed; you’re expecting to go through the photo albums again; to hear more stories of Jason and her as kids. Instead she grips your hands.

“Why are you still here.” Her voice is as limp as her grip on you; you rub your thumb over her skin and tug her hand into your lap as you pull her into a hug. “Because I love you Cheryl.” “I accused your father, I sent him to jail, you could have-“ she starts “Cheryl, that’s not going to happen anymore, that’s in the past. I have to let that go, yes I’m upset it happened, but I don’t blame you. If I did that, if I blamed and held onto everything that could have happened I’d be so angry and hurt all the time. I wouldn’t have anything to do with my dad, or Jughead, or any of his friends. I’d still be at Southside High, I wouldn’t know you.” You shut her down, pulling her back with you as you lay on her bed. “I love you.” You repeat kissing her face until she smiles against your lips.

“Seriously babe, you need to heal, you’ve been through a lot. No one will blame you for not being sad or upset all the time. I’m here for you.” “Why?” She ducks her head cuddling into you. “Because being with you makes me happy.” You watch her frown almost playfully. “You have to come up with your own ideas. Can’t go stealing mine.” “Well you’ve already stolen my heart.” You laugh and she rolls her eyes. “Can you at least think about getting some different cheesy one liners?” “You know you love them.” You nod enthusiastically. “I love them because I love you.” You nod. “Exactly so by default of loving me, you love them. It’s basic math.”

“And what do you know about math?” You grin and she groans. “Babe please don’t-“ “Well I know that me plus you equals forever.” You laugh when she shoves a pillow at you. “Cherylllll stopppp, wait is it true your pillows are stuffed with cash?” “No that’s a dumb rumor, they’re filled with goose down.” “So no cash at all?” She narrows her eyes. “No, why?” You try your best to stifle a laugh. “Cause-“ You don’t finish before the pillow is smacked into your face.

“I warned you Y/N” You nod smiling at her. “You know you should really let more people see this side of you.” “What side? You mean I should flirt and cuddle with everyone?” You shake your head laughing. “No, just be a little less HBIC all the time. Take a break, relax.” “Well that’s what I’m doing now.” “No with other people.” She rolls her eyes. “No, I refuse.” You sit up and she returns to curling around you, the pillows resuming their place behind your heads.

“I was really scared you were going to break up with me.” You look confused as Cheryl runs her fingers through your hair. “Why would I break up with you?” “Because I accused your-“ “Cheryl, we just-“ “No.” You freeze as she snaps at you. “I accused your father, almost got you sent back to the Southside to a foster family and never being able to see you again!” You nod letting her vent and sputter to you, complaining about herself and her faults. You sit watching and nodding along as her voice begins to crackle and it becomes slightly more sobbing than actually words. You pull her in as close as possible tucking her head against your shoulder as you hold her. “I’m sorry.” You speak into her hair as she shakes her head weakly.

“I’m sorry for not realizing how much this was hurting you. I’m not upset at you Cheryl; I’m upset at the circumstances that pushed us apart but not at you, never at you. I want to be with you, I’m making that choice. Just like I’ve made the choice to forgive you for hitting Jughead, for blaming my dad. You were just grieving, you were hurting and I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry for that. That’s what I’m apologizing for, for not being there for you, my girlfriend, the love of my life. I’m so sorry.” She pulls back to look at you, you move to wipe the tears at the corner of her eyes, and she does the same for you. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. That’s sort of how I was taught. You either love with everything, or give nothing.” You nod kissing her. “Well then good thing you didn’t push me away properly.” She laughs a little. ‘Can’t even do that right.”

“Hey, babe, stop. I’m here, you’re not a bad person, I still love you. I stayed. I want to stay. I want to be with you.” You rest your forehead on hers and she nods to you. You stay like that for a moment content to watch her, you notice her eyes flickering around you face, you smile and you can see her lips quirk up slightly. “What-“ She nudges your forehead and you close your mouth watching her watch you. “I was memorizing your face.” “Why?” “I want to draw you later.”

“You draw?” You shift on the bed as she nods turning almost shyly from your sight to pull a sketchbook from beside her bed. She holds it out and nods to you, you open it slowly thumbing through the pages. Most are of the Vixen practice, there’s a few of the Bulldog’s practice as well. Reggie and Jason stretching; Archie playing his guitar. Betty and Jughead asleep in the student lounge. Veronica and Josie practicing some song. You look up glancing back as you flip the page, half sketches of you, part of your smile, or your hand brushing your ear. “These are amazing.” She shrugs and pulls the sketchbook back to place it in the drawer she got it from.

“You could ask me you know, to draw me.” You smile and her face lights up, you tilt your head as a grin stretches her face. “Are you asking for me to draw-“ “Cheryl no I want to say it!” She clamps a hand over your mouth. “Draw you like one of those French girls.” She winks and you glare before licking her hand, she wipes it down your face laughing as you cringe.

“It’s your spit, don’t look so disgusted.” “Yes, and it’s supposed to stay in my mouth.” “You say as you lick my hand.” She arches an eyebrow  at you and you shrug. “You stole my line.” “I wasn’t aware we’re on the Titanic now.” You half pounce on her pulling her into as tight of a hug as you can manage. “I’ll never let go Jackkkk” You both end up laughing holding each other as you fall asleep.

Support My Writing?

[12yeahiminluvwu]

Betty

pairing - JJ Maybank x Reader

summary- JJ finally apologizes for what he did, but apologies only go so far...

word count- 1.6k+

warning(s)- swearing, cheating, mentions of underage drinking

So, i skipped some of the lyrics, but it’s almost the same concept :)

---------------------

Betty i won’t make assumptions about why you switched your home room but i thinks it’s cause of me

The group of friends sat talking and laughing, waiting for their last friend to walk in the door but she never did. 

“Where's y/n?” Kie asked and JJ scratched the back of his neck, having a sinking feeling that the reason she wasn’t here was because of him. The events that took place last night still fresh in his mind. 

He felt bad, but he had no energy to start a fight with the pogues so he stayed silent. 

Pope and John B looked at each other confused when they saw y/n sitting at a lunch table alone a few hours later. It was unlike her to not sit with them, or even talk to them. She had sent no text indicating she’d be late or anything.

She looked up from her book and saw the boys approaching her table so she got up quickly and walked out, avoiding them at all costs.

Betty, I know where it all went wrong your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym

The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you

JJ watched as y/n danced with John B as her favorite song blared from the gym speakers. He offered when JJ told her he didn’t want to dance because the crowd was making him feel claustrophobic. Y/n didn’t think anything of it, but he used that time to sneak away to see someone, a girl.

JJ wasn’t proud of it, but y/n had been busy lately and hadn’t had much time to spend with him so he got bored. 

Inez, a girl in the same grade as the pogues, was the one that saw the pair making outside the gym doors and ran to tell y/n. By that time she’d been off by herself looking for JJ, the song having ended a while ago. When Inez showed up next to her with a picture of her boyfriend with his tongue down someone else’s throat, she felt the room start to spin and quickly ran out to see if it was true.

Tears welled in her eyes as they came into view. there he was, leaning against the wall with another girl stuck to him. She was heart broken, so she left. 

She spent the rest of the school year avoiding the pogues and making new friends. 


If I showed up at your party, would you have me?

Would you want me?


“JJ just apologize, we fucking miss her dude and it’s your fault that she doesn’t talk to us anymore!” John B pressed as the group of pogues walked down the hallway on the last day of school. They heard that you were throwing a party tonight to celebrate the beginning of summer and immediately thought that this was the perfect opportunity for the blond to apologize. 

You hadn't talked to any of them much, other than simple niceties when it was necessary. You hadn’t changed much though, you just had new friends. None that would ever replace the pogues, but they would do. 

“She doesn’t want to hear from me guys. She’s made that very clear.” You had blocked him on absolutely everything the moment you got home from the dance that night, and ignored all of his attempts to talk to you. You avoided him like the plague. The whole time you’d been with JJ, you made such a big deal about how important loyalty was to you. So it killed you when you caught him red handed with another girl. 

“Please try again. You know you miss her just as much as we do!” Kie added and the boy looked down. It was true. He missed you more than anything in the world, and it killed him knowing that he broke the biggest promise he’d ever made to you. Loyalty. 

JJ wanted to use the excuse that he was just being stupid and wasn’t thinking straght, but he knew better than to waste your time on stupid lies. 

“Guys, I-... Of course I miss her. I’m in love with her. But I hurt her. I broke her trust in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to mend. I mean, yeah I’ll try again, but if she turns me away tonight then I just have to let her go…” He said and the group all nodded, praying to whatever was above that you missed them as much as they missed you.

Betty right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again

JJ stood with sweaty hands, outside the house he’d grown to know so well over the past few years. It had become a second home to him, since you’d come to the island. He took in a shaky breath, wiping his palms on the fraying cargo shorts he wore too often, and made his way to the porch. Music could be heard from inside, flashing lights shining through the widows. The door was open and there were a few stragglers littered across the lawn, but you were nowhere in sight. Not yet at least. 

He walked through the crowd of sweaty drunken teenagers, looking for the eyes he loved so much. He found you in the backyard, smiling with some of your new friends. When one of them looked up from the conversation, they saw him and alerted you of his presence. His heart dropped as he saw your eyes finally meeting his. This didn’t seem promising.

You just looked at him, waiting for him to make the first move. You saw him mouth, can we talk? in your direction and nodded, excusing yourself from your friends.

Time seemed to slow down as you made your way through the crowd. The music sounded quieter, just white noise in the background, as your throat began to try and your heart rate began to speed up. When you got close to him, you started heading the direction of your bedroom, a place JJ was familiar with. 

Closing the door behind himself he took in the space he hadn’t seen in months.

I’m only seventeen

I don’t anything

But I know I miss you

Silence filled the room as all the two of you could do was stare at each other. Tension ran thick throughout your room as you, again, waited for him to make a move. 

He took a deep breath suddenly, readying himself to speak. 

“I’m sorry,” He paused and you raised your eyebrows at him, as if you ask if that was all he had to say for himself.

“I have no excuse for why I did what I did, but I want you to know that these past few months have been absolute hell. I miss you every second of every day. You have no idea how much I miss you. Fuck, I wish I could go back to December and beat my own ass for doing what I did to you, for fucking up the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, that will ever happen to me. I love you, y/n, I always will and I understand if you never want to talk to me again . I would understand if you told me to just go fuck myself and never saw me again, but I couldn’t not tell you how sorry I am…” He rambled all in one breath. You sat quietly, not quite knowing what to say to him. 

“JJ, I-... fuck. JJ you just about killed me, you know that? You know what loyalty means to me but you still went and stuck your tongue down some chicks throat, and god knows what else you stuck in her. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? My dad cheated on my mom and I had to watch her go through that. I had to watch her divorce the man she loved for 15 years and fight for custody of me. I had to watch her rebuild herself from the ground up, by herself JJ. You knew that. You fucking knew that, but you went and did it anyway.” You finally said, tears welling up in your eyes. JJ nodded, moving closer to you and taking a seat. 

“I know baby, I know I fucked up. But I promise you that if you let me try again, I will never leave your side ever. I want you forever, and it took losing you to understand that but I know now that I can’t live without you baby girl. Please, give me another chance to show you that I love you. I won’t fuck it up this time, please.” It was JJ’s turn to shed a tear, and you could feel your heart start to break, the walls you’d build around yourself in the last months crumbling down. JJ didn’t open up easily, you knew that. Which also meant you knew that this was genuine. 

If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be here, crying his eyes out and trying to get you back in his life. 

“I just need time to think JJ…” You said, placing your hand over his and squeezing it. 

“I’d wait forever if you asked me, I hope you know that…” He whispered and you nodded, reaching up to wipe the tear that had fallen down his cheek. 

“I know, J… I know..”

----------

@afterglows7b-tch13 @deathcompass

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 8

So I’ve decided to make the last two chapters of this series like a two part finale almost. 9 and 10 will be the last chapters of Old Friends :(

But I do have more in the works, so don’t cry! Just enjoy this fluffy chapter with Spencer and the team. :))

Spencer Reid x Reader

Chapter 8:

JJ grabbed me by the arm as soon as I walked into the bullpen. 

“Explain to me why Henry is telling me that, I quote, ‘Uncle Spencer is in love with the smart lady.’?”

I just stared at her with wide eyes. “Um, I don’t know, maybe you should ask Spencer.” I tried to get away without grinning, but she kept her grip on my arm, a sly smirk on her face. 

“When you guys babysat Henry he definitely picked up on your flirty little banter, and now he’s constantly talking about how Spencer is so in love with you.” JJ let go of my arm and gave me a knowing glance. 

I was trying to keep from laughing hysterically. “How old is Henry?”

“He’s three.” 

Calming myself down, I walked past her to my desk. “JJ, I’m just going to be honest…” I looked her in the eye, faking seriousness. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

She gave a groan of frustration as Prentiss and Garcia walked past. “What are we talking about?” Prentiss saddled up next to me. “Are we talking about how you and Reid are totally hooking up?”

Garcia gasped. “Yesterday I heard them talking about their favorite French movies… the language of love!”

I raised my hands in the air in mock surrender. “Oh, you caught me! We were talking to each other, whoa!”

All three of the women rolled their eyes, and I could tell they weren’t leaving until they actually got something juicy. 

I sighed. “Okay, I’ve spent the night at his place a few times. Nothing happened,” I added quickly after seeing their scandalized faces. “We just eat ice cream and I crash on his couch. After what happened a few months ago, sometimes it’s hard to be alone.”

They all looked suspicious, but eventually they dropped it. 

I didn’t tell them the total truth, but they didn’t need to know details. 

Yes, we’ve kissed a few times, so what?

After a few minutes of working at my desk, a fresh coffee appeared next to me, and Spencer quickly was walking away. I giggled softly, watching him wink at me from across the bullpen. 

I heard Morgan snort as he was walking up behind my desk. “What, Morgan?” 

“Something fishy is going on with you and pretty boy over there,” Morgan pointed over to where Spencer was sorting through different files. 

“Something fishy? We’re old friends, you know that.” 

Morgan smirked, clearly unconvinced. “Old friends, my ass.”

We all came to attention when we saw Garcia power walking across the catwalk in her heels. “Minions of the BAU, you have a case!”

__

The stunt that I pulled, ignoring Hotch, happened almost a month ago and he was still pissed. I could read it on his face, and it was almost comical to see this normally stone cold leader so heated. 

“I think Dad is still mad at me,” I whispered to Prentiss, and she laughed out loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the briefing room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Spencer with his little sweet puppy smile, the smile he wore when he was happy. 

“Ladies and gents, you are going to San Francisco where there have been three very strange murders, I direct your attention to the photos,” Garcia pointed to the screen. 

She wasn’t lying, the murders were extremely strange. One crime scene appeared to be in a tunnel with a male and female victim. The other crime scene was a medieval execution, a woman hanged using a classic noose. Suicide was ruled out given that her hands and feet were bound and her apartment showed signs of a struggle. All of the victims were in fancy medieval clothing, corsets and all.  

“The only thing connecting all of these kills is the elaborate costumes. Clearly our unsub has a flair for the dramatic. He wants these bodies to be found.” Spencer looked over at me as I cleared my throat. 

“There’s something familiar about these murders, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Looking at the photos, something was ringing in my head but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “Probably the work of a single unsub, the medieval wardrobes practically screams individuality.”

“What I’m worried about is the rate of kills. Two victims in three days is almost a nonexistent cooling off period.” Hotch stood up and scanned the room. “Wheels up in 20. Reid, come see me for a moment.”

Spencer shot me a glance and followed Hotch into his office. 

“That can’t be good.” I muttered to JJ, and she nodded inn agreement.  

__

“So he stabbed the female victim at the first crime scene, and poisoned the male. Those are two completely different MOs.” Everyone was still puzzled at the crime scenes on the plane. Morgan had almost an angry look on his face. “And he hangs the single female? It doesn’t make sense.”

I shook my head. “I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen this before.’

Prentiss raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think any of us have seen anything like this before.”

Spencer was sitting in the window seat next to me, surprisingly not saying anything. At the back of my mind I wanted to ask him about what Hotch called him in for. 

“I never thought I would get to kiss you again,” Spencer whispered gently. His arm around my shoulders on his couch felt so much like home I forgot that we were also coworkers. 

“Well, you did, so it’s okay,” I smiled up at him and turned back to the TV. In these few short weeks of being a couple again of sorts, my mental health has improved more than in the last six months. Someone would touch me and I wouldn’t flinch anymore, and the nightmares of that damn basement lessened. 

Everything was so easy with Spencer. There was still the same connection of kindred spirits we’ve had since college, and we would talk about the most random, nerdy subjects.

Damn, he made me happy. So, so happy. 

“Everything good?” I murmured to Spencer on the plane. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Spencer gave me a reassuring side smile as Hotch began giving assignments. 

“Prentiss, Morgan go to the latest dump site. Look through it in the killer’s eyes. YLN, Reid, go to the station and interview families. Rossi and I will go to the ME. JJ, take care of the press.”

I suddenly got it. Hotch was putting Spencer in to babysit me. That’s what they were talking about. I gave Spencer a look, and he glanced away awkwardly. 

__

“So the first two victims were Rosie Greenlin and Tom Janney, they were both in their early twenties, dating, college students.” I shook my head as I walked up to Spencer. “Parents don’t know anything except that Rosie and Tom were in love, clear as day.”

Spencer sighed as he scanned the crime scene photos. “Betty Wright came from a wealthy family, and her parents say she’s always been very outspoken but kind.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Rosie and Tom both came from wealthy families as well. Could he be targeting the rich?” 

Spencer shrugged, out of ideas for now.

“Hey, did Hotch pull you aside so he could tell you to babysit me?” One look on Spencer’s face told me yes. “He’s afraid I’ll go rogue again.”

Spencer looked guilty and spoke slowly. “He’s just making sure that you don’t…”

I raised my eyebrows when Spencer trailed off. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m not mad, I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

A police officer came into the room as I finished speaking. “There’s another one. Dylan Walker, stabbed then submerged in liquid. But here’s the weird part, he was submerged in a barrel of wine.”

Spencer pulled out his phone. “We need to get everyone here. We’re not going to catch this guy by splitting up.”

__

After everyone got back to the station, we ordered food and threw out ideas. 

“It’s probably this guy’s first time killing, could the varied MO just mean he’s seeing what he likes?” Morgan had the same puzzled expression from earlier, as did most of the team. “Betty Wright was found hanging from a tree on an isolated hill and the coroner said she’d only been there about an hour.”

Spencer shifted in his seat and moved his hands. “The dump sites seem to be crucial to his fantasy, but we just don’t know why.”

I hadn’t said anything since the team got back. “Oh my god,” I whispered, looking at the crime scene photos. “A malmsey butt… a public execution… two deaths in a tunnel…”

The team just stared at me. “What is it, YFN?” Spencer asked. 

I tapped him on the arm, completely astounded that I figured it out. “Remember when we went to see King Lear in college?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Cordelia was executed by hanging.”

I nodded at him, standing up and looking at the team. “She was executed because she valued love over property, so her father killed her. Betty Wright was known to be very outspoken. Clarence in Richard III was stabbed then submerged in a malmsey butt, or a barrel of wine. Romeo and Juliet both died in an underground tomb, Romeo poisoned himself and Juliet stabbed herself. Rosie and Tom died in a sewage drain underground in the exact same ways.”

“He’s recreating the written deaths of Shakespeare,” JJ concluded. 

“The medieval clothing ties all of it together, the costumes he puts his victims in were common among royalty in Shakespeare’s time.” I looked to Hotch, who wore a microscopic smile on his face. Good job, he seemed to say. 

__

The unsub was Devin McCoy, a former Shakespeare director who lost his job two weeks ago for assaulting one of his actors. Hotch insisted that I stay at the station while they made the arrest, and I grudgingly obliged. Devin came with little resistance, saying that he was creating the art that his actors couldn’t. The whole thing looked like a bad movie when they dragged him into the station. 

Hotch pulled me aside as we were packing up. 

“YLN, I have to say that you did a fantastic job in this case. You saw something in the murders that no one else did, and we would’ve been here a lot longer without you.” I fought the urge to happy cry. Hotch has never complimented me like that. 

“Thank you Hotch. Does that mean Spencer doesn’t have to babysit me anymore?” I asked hopefully. “I have the green light again?”

Hotch gave me a rare smile. “Yes, you have the green light again.”

__

The plane ride was quiet. We took off at midnight, and with the five hour flight, we were all dreading the next day at work. 

I was sitting next to Spencer, who was reading Romeo and Juliet. “How can you read that after the case we just had?”

He looked up and shrugged. “Last time I read this play was in Spanish, so I figured I would read the original English instead.”

I gave him big doe eyes and made a pitched tone. “Oh, Spencer! Spencer! Wherefore art thou Spencer?”

He chuckled and turned away from me. Across the plane, I saw JJ and Prentiss laughing to themselves, most likely at our dorkiness. I smiled and winked at them. 

“I know JJ and Prentiss are watching, otherwise I would kiss you.” Spencer whispered to me, still looking down at his book. 

“Who cares about JJ and Prentiss?” 

His eyes shot up to mine, trying to see if I was joking or not. I gave a devilish smirk, and he laced his hand in my hair. 

Spencer kissed me sweetly, and we pulled away when we heard the applause of everyone on the plane.

“Finally!” Rossi exclaimed. “I’ve been pretending to sleep for 45 minutes!”

@itsarayofsunshine @thesailbells  @squirrellover1967  @softpeteparker @parkeroffline

[lunaticlua]

how do you make a home? // part 1

❝ you were never gonna leave that town [...] where the pain of the world was swallowed when the sunset wiped you clean ❞ (futton couch – missy higgins)

seven years after the events of her parents’ death, lulu moves back home. when she starts working at her uncle’s mechanic shop, she meets jj maybank. with him by her side, she learns how to be open again to what life brings under the golden sky of outer banks.

[ jj maybank x female original character ]

series masterlist

also available on ao3

chapter 1: sun, sun, sun, here we come

“little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here / here comes the sun” (here comes the sun – the beatles)

She missed the crystal-clear blue ocean where she learnt how to not only swim but become one with the water. The salty air that invaded her childhood bedroom each morning as she opened the windows. The delicate shells she collected and gifted to her mother. The end-of-the-day sky that brought a golden tint to their lives. She missed being at home — not the house she grew up in, but the town she’d always belonged to even miles away. She missed feeling at home.

Living in a small town in Ohio with her mom’s sister definitely wasn’t the worst fate after that night seven years ago. Leaving was a hard but necessary decision and she is grateful that someone made it. Auntie Rita gave her what she needed the most at the time: a family to lean on, a direct link to her mother and, most importantly, a space to grieve.

But the situation changed. According to Betty, the therapist she was appointed to attend after the events of my parents’ death, facing her trauma was a good step forward in order to let the pain go. Thereby, Rita decided to give away her legal guardian’s rights to Uncle Joe and allow her to come back.

As they enter on the road that leads them to the Cut, on the passenger seat of her aunt’s car with all her belongings, she asks to whoever is out there that moving back was not a mistake. The Outer Banks, paradise on Earth, she reads on the sign. It felt like it when she was a kid and things were still easy. But she is older now and the veil of naivety is not there anymore. Still, despite all the pain surrounding the island, OBX was the closest thing to her personal heaven.

When they pull over at the yellow faded house, she sees the big, tall man who is taking her in. Joe Campbell was her mother’s best friend growing up and Outer Banks’s most well-known mechanic. When she was born, her mom chose him to be her godfather. He was the one who gifted her first surfboard when she learned how to walk and the one who taught her how to change a motorcycle motor when she was seven. After what happened, he even volunteered to raise her.

As soon as she leaves the car, he embraces her tightly, which would normally make her flinch. Not with him, though. Uncle Joe had a hug that reminded her of better times. “Welcome back, my girl. You are so tall, just like your mother,” he breathes in her hair. After what feels like an eternity later, she lets him go and gives him a faint smile, watching his glistening eyes. Sometimes, she forgets that other people lost Cecilia as well.

“Thank you again, Uncle Joe.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. You are family and family look out for each other,” he finishes, squeezing her shoulder once. “Now, I will see if your aunt needs help with your stuff and you head inside to check out your new room. Second door to your right.”

“Are you sure you two don’t need me?”

“Yeah, Lulu. Go, go! There is a surprise for you there,” he sends one of his genuine, warming smiles and then turns to speak with Rita.

Opening the front door feels like time travelling. Suddenly, she is back at the time when she would come there on the weekends for barbecue with her parents and their friends. Everything seems to be where she remembers. The house stayed as it used to be as if the time hadn’t passed, they hadn’t died, she hadn’t been broken. It comforts her.

As she walks on the hallway leading to her room, she sees pictures with her mother, with herself — no one of them have him, fortunately. The big green eyes stare her in a photo of her mom singing with her high school band. Sometimes, she thinks that she forgot her voice. It freaks her out, losing this big part of her favorite person. She is forever grateful for the home video she found of her mother singing to her as a baby. She leaves behind the memories and moves on to her bedroom door.

When she enters the space, she notices the surfboard on the bed. It looks just like the one she had growing up, except that it is bigger. A wave of happiness invades her as she inspects it. It is beautiful and she can’t contain the excitement to test it out.

“Did you like it?” Uncle Joe asks from the doorframe with a box on his hands.

“Like it? I loved it. It is perfect. I can’t thank you enough!”

“Taking this box is enough, kid.”

After hours of moving boxes and organizing her clothes, she gives herself a break and goes to meet the adults who are making dinner. Auntie Rita is going to stay for the night and head back to Ohio the next day. When she is arriving at the kitchen, she hears her name and decides to hide in order to listen to what they are saying.

“… Lulu thinks that she is ready to be back, but we need to be careful,” she listens to her aunt’s whispers.

“I know that, Rita, but the girl gotta live. She is sixteen. She knows what it is best for her. We have to trust her.”

“I do trust her. But, Joe, you weren’t there. You didn’t see her in the past seven years.”

“But, Rita–”

“She didn’t talk to me for almost three years! Three years,” she can feel the pain in the words, which guilts her profusely. It is easier to not think about the first few years and the torment she put her aunt through. “You understand what this is? She doesn’t have friends back in Ohio. The only people she can keep a conversation with are me, her therapist, two teachers from her school and you. No one else.”

“Rita, that is why she is here. She can’t run away from this anymore. This place is her home. She just needs to realize this again.”

“I am scared for her,” she murmurs morosely.

“I know you are. I am too, but we need to let her live. Look, we have plan, right? She works with me at the shop. We have dinner together at least twice a week. She will be fine. It will be good for her, I am sure,” he takes a deep, long breath. “But, if we think that it wasn’t a good idea, at the summer, she goes back to you. It’s the deal.”

“I just hope you are right, Joe. I really do.”

When she realizes that they had stopped talking, she emerges from the hallway where she was hidden with a need to get out of the house for a while. “Hi. I was wondering if I had time to go for a swim at the beach before dinner.”

They share a knowing look and Uncle Joe answers. “Yes, kid, of course. Just be back in an hour. Will you take your bike?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Be safe.”

She goes back to the bedroom for a quick change of clothes and leaves the house. When she is on her old blue bicycle, she feels like she can breathe again. She rides for less than ten minutes until she arrives at part of the beach where she used to go with her mom.

All her favorite memories in this island have the woman.

They used to wake up earlier every Saturday and come to this place. They would swim, collect shells, and then eat the ice cream sundae from the little beach kiosk secretly. Paul never liked that mom gave her dessert before lunch. He always said she spoiled the girl too much. So, this was one of their many little secrets.

She shakes away the bittersweet thought, place her bike at the sand and takes off her shoes, short and t-shirt. When her toes touch the translucid water, she enjoys the lightheartedness in her soul. The deeper she goes, the more weightless she feels.

As she dives in, all her sorrows wash away. The blue immensity gifts her the power to just be for a second or two. When she gets back to the surface, she makes herself a promise to do everything to maintain this peace of mind. She vows to let it all go.

“i’m in the pursuit of happiness. [...] i gonna get it, easy as an ice cream sundae.” (ice cream sundae – inhaler)

chapter 2

[j-reau]

Last but most certainly never least, and last on purpose because at the end of the day you’re my last man standing always. Liz, I know we don’t do earnest bullshit all the time. And I know you know I love you more than the moon and the stars. But some days I just want to say it and say why and make sure the whole rest of the world knows too. I had no fucking idea when we ran into each other once upon a time that you would quite literally become my other half. I had no idea when I had to take a leap of faith and trust you that you would turn out to be the person I now trust more than absolutely anyone else. But I’m so fucking thankful for that. These last few years would never have been the same without you hear as my rock and my constant. Whether we’re sitting insilence, writing on discord when we can’t be bothered with the rest of the world, screaming in pain at the clown episode of Criminal Minds, or drinking with. my parents in the kitchen, no one has ever made me feel as at home as you do, as comfortable in every part of me, even in the disaster parts and the ugly parts and the parts I’m afraid of. When it comes to RP, you’re an incredible writer who could have chemistry with a block of wood and your dialogue always fucking gets me. In the RPC you’re a constant source of honesty, telling it like it is, and taking no bullshit. And for me, you are the absolute number one bitch. Your loyalty, your friendship, your love, your honesty, all mean the absolute world to me. There is not a single other person on this hellsite (the entire world not just tumblr) that I’d sit around talking about getting dogs and condos and how we’d raise kids with but you. I’m forever angry at this pandemic for screw up any plans we had of spending time together in LA but I know that when it’s all said and done, we’ll still be here and it’s still going to happen. Thank you for your patience, for learning what I mean when I say that silly things like sharing my favorite shows with people are important to me, for every stupid bickering bullshit argument we’ve subjected Steph to, for always admitting I’m right when it’s done (because I am aksldfjadks). Sometimes we talk about the world, about friendship, about love and relationships and how to take care of the people in your life and I think that’s reason we are where we are. I think we’re kindred spirits in THAT way, for all the ways that we’re so different. Because we both love our people the same way. You just get it and I’m thankful always for your presence in my silly fandom life and in my big real life. Please never go anywhere or I’ll kick your ass. Happy Valentine’s Day, to the most ride or die bitch in the clown car, the one who will do tik tok dances to Selena at the old folks home with me, the only person who gets my playlists, my wife, my mario kart partner, my reality check, the one person who thinks I’m funny, the Betty to my Veronica, the Lizzie to my Hope the Santana to my Quinn and every single thing in between,  @departingsouls @laebeled @sluething @bayouroyalty @geminaes @targetcode @supervisories @awesomegaydar you have too many blogs bitch make more. I love you. Si tu le entras yo le entro. 

💛 JJ CELEBRATES 500 FOLLOWERS/WRITES VALENTINE WEEK LOVE 💛

[notquitecanon]

Lauren Reynolds/ Marvel (Reader Insert) Pt. 5

TW: death, combat, guns, knives, fighting, blood, graphic description of violence and injury angst, arguing (if that counts)

This is Criminal Minds Season 6, Ep. 18, so if you haven’t gotten that far and don’t want it spoiled, maybe just move along, come back and read once you’ve finished season six. 

Gonna be honest, I took Seaver out of this. I love her character, but she just kind of got in the way.  Otherwise, most of this is the same as the episode, except where I either modified dialogue or switched around characters! 

I wanted to use this chapter to show some relationships between the team, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it. Also you lowkey a badasss. 

Part one    Part Two   Part Three  Part 4

___

It took another hour's drive to get to Quantico. Anderson seemed to feel your unease, so he didn’t even attempt to make small talk, only driving faster. You were grateful for that. You were grateful for Steve, trying to cheer you up. But the anxiety was back, climbing up your throat like bile. You chewed on your thumbnail as you watched the scenery go by, wondering what would wait for you at the BAU. 

As soon as you were brought into the building, you caught a beautifully familiar face. Sighing in relief, you rushed forward into a hug, “JJ.”

“They called in all their cards, huh?” She breathed, returning the embrace. You detached as you were ushered into an elevator. 

“Any idea what this is about?” You asked, her lips pressed into a line. That wasn’t a good sign. The elevator dinged and opened up. 

“We’re about to find out.” She muttered, giving your hand a squeeze as the two of you strided out of the elevator. The two of you walked into the BAU like you owned the place, she was wearing her Pentagon ID and your SHIELD badge was clipped delicately to your belt. Hotch was explaining the situation. 

“I’ve reached out to two experts on the matter who can also shed light on Prentiss’ past.” He informed them, pinning what looked like Prentiss’ key card to the idea board. Reid’s head cocked to the side. 

“Them.”

When Hotch nodded to you and JJ, every head swiveled to you. JJ held her head high, trying to hide her anxiety, while you just smiled at your team. 

“Let’s get to work.” 

Within 45 minutes, you and JJ had completely redone the ideas board. With her Pentagon connections and your SHIELD intel more and more blanks were being filled. Even with the advancement, every minute passed was another minute Prentiss was in danger. 

“My contact only knew her history word of mouth.  She assumed Lauren Reynold’s identity when undercover for Interpol. With them they profiled terrorists.” JJ explained, then you piped up. 

“Interpol worked closely with SHIELD operatives for that. She was a part of a special task force called JTF-12.” You added, that information had actually come directly from Clint- who apparently worked several missions against the IRA and had a personal grudge with Ian Doyle. He offered to come in, but you told him to stay with his family. 

“They were assembled after 9-11. CIA, SHIELD, and other Western Agencies assembled the best and brightest. As you may have heard, all sorts of people were recruited post 9/11. These were the same agencies that recruited Bruce Banner, Betty Ross, and tried to recruit Tony Stark.” You continued. 

“Terrorists and Serial Killers profile different.” Derek pointed out. The roundtable nodded. 

“How does Ian Doyle fit into this?” Spencer asked, eyebrows knitted fiercely together.  You made a mental note to check in about his headaches later, but for the moment you just answered his question. 

“Doyle was her task forces last target.” You filled him in, flipping the mission file onto your tablet. JJ nodded. 

“And now the JTF is on his hit list. He’s already hit Jeremy Wolf, Sean McAlister, and Tsia Mosely.” She explained, motioning through photos. “And the team leader, Clyde Easter hasn’t checked in since Tsia’s murder and is currently presumed dead.” 

“Did JTF make the arrest?” Hotch asked, and you answered. 

“No, the host countries handled that so the team could move onto the next case. And so names wouldn’t be on paper.” You informed. Hotch’s face screwed up in confusion. 

“If all they did was deliver a profile, how does Doyle even know about them?” He asked. JJ and you shared a look, but you bit the bullet. 

“Due to the shady nature of terrorist cells, international agencies will use infiltration tactics. Which is why Emily was considered a US spy.” You explained, catching Derek’s disapproving scoff. You knew he liked things straight forward. Spencer, however, continued with another question. 

“Who was undercover on Doyle?” 

This time it was JJ who delivered the bad news, “Emily. She made contact with him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla. She was posing as another weapon’s dealer.”

JJ then passed out printed out photos of a younger Emily, cutting flowers, wearing a linen pants suit. Derek looked at the photos, “She looks mighty comfortable.”

Hotch redirected the phrasing, “How close did she get to Doyle as her cover?”

Once again it was your turn to give bad news, sucking in a deep breath, “Well, his profile included an in-depth background of all his romantic relationships. Emily... was his type.” 

You paused to look at the rest of the table. Morgan’s face flashed with contempt. Spencer’s frown deepened as his eyes flitted back to the photos. Garcia was looking around for an explanation while Rossi and Hotch shared a look. Now they understood just how personal this was for Doyle. 

And that put Emily in so much more danger.

______ 

After the meeting, Hotch assigned tasks. You had watched Derek storm off towards the garage, Rossi following calmly behind him to go through Prentiss’ apartment. Garcia retreated back to her computer room with JJ as they worked on finding any sort of paper trail. 

You were left with Reid, you and he were reviewing the SHIELD case files that were relevant to the case. For the longest it was silent, the two of you working in harmony for Prentiss’ sake. You paused from your scrolling, looking up to the genius. His eyes were moving almost inhumanely fast as he mouth the words he was reading, one hand scribbling down notes as he went. 

“How have your headaches been?” You asked quietly. His head popped up, eyes wide, so you quickly placated him, “No one’s around. I just figured that all the screens, puzzles, and people are probably not great. Reading on screens for the past 30 minutes straight probably hasn’t helped either.”

His eyes softened, going back to the tablet, “The Doctor said it’s psychosomatic. But I think he’s wrong.” 

You nodded, waiting to see if he would add anything to the matter, he did, continuing to say, “They died down a little bit, but it does seem to correlate with stress.” 

You smiled softly, “Have you told the team, yet?” 

He shook his head, smile pulling into a guilty line.  “Just you and Emily, the others would just worry and baby me.” 

You just nodded, going back to your files. It was probably for the best that Derek had been sent to Prentiss’ apartment with Rossi- just the idea of her seduction had made him angry. The explicit details would enrage him. Speaking of the pair, your head turned as the pair rushed through the bullpen to Hotch’s office. 

“Guess that means they found something.” You muttered, watching the door slam behind Derek. With a sigh, you flicked to the next page for fresh content. It was a file report of their first meeting. You’d gone through this countless times so you popped your head up to rest your eyes, settling on the idea board across the room. Then it clicked. 

“If we’re profiling Doyle like a normal unsub, and Emily as his object of desire/rage... It’d make sense for them to go back to the place it all started. That’s Boston.” You thought aloud, eyes meeting Spencer’s. You watched him process before he nodded, eyes lighting up with understanding. 

“We need to tell Hotch.” 

________

“Boston. She went to Boston.” You blurted swinging the door open. All three men gaped at you, Derek was holding Emily’s passport and Rossi’s was dangling a gold necklace from his fingers. Hotch paused before looking to you, with Spencer lurking just behind you. 

“What’s your evidence?” He asked, jaw and eyebrow set. You took a deep breath. 

“Well she’s not running away,” You started, pointing at the passport in Derek’s hand, “And she’s chasing Doyle, who’s chasing her. Like any other unsub/victim combo. They’re going to end up where it all began. That’s Boston.” 

Hotch nodded, gesturing for the rest of you to follow him. JJ and Garcia flanked the group, Garcia rambling her findings as the team sped towards the exit.  “Sir, one of Clyde Easter’s covers was flagged by TSA on a flight to Boston.”

“Have him detained as soon as he steps off. We need to go. Garcia, you're coming with us.” Hotch’s orders were clear and concise, and the team was quick to carry them out. 

_______

On the jet to Boston, you listened to Garcia leave voice messages on all of Emily’s old numbers. Her voice was quiet and small,  you could hear the tears she was holding back as she plead with the voice mail, “Hey, Em, it's me, Penelope. Hotch told me to go through all your numbers, and I found this old listing. You probably don’t even use this anymore, but if you do, if it is you and you’re out there... Come home, please.” 

You could hear her throat tighten, so you placed a comforting hand on her knee. Her other hand laced with yours in solidarity as she continued, “God, Emily, what did you think? That we would just let you walk out of our lives? I’m so furious at you right now! Then I think about how scared you must be, how you’re in some dark place all alone. But you’re not alone, ok? You are NOT alone.

We are in that dark place with you. We are waving flashlights and calling your name. So if you can see us, come home. If you can’t, then... then you stay alive. ‘Cause we’re coming. We’re coming.” 

She clicked off, pressing the cell to her lips as a safeguard to keep her tears at bay. You squeezed her hand before getting up. Stopping at the coffee bar by the bathroom, you checked your own phone- naively hoping that maybe Emily had reached out. No such luck, as of 10:13. Three hours had felt like three days.  You did have three other texts from your SHIELD friends. 

__

Clint: Be careful with Doyle, he’s more dangerous than he looks. 

Natasha: Clint told me you're going after Ian Doyle. Be careful.

You laughed dryly, so much for secrets. Texting them appeasements, you were touched by their concern. 

Steve:  Just checking in, any word on your friend. 

You: Nothing good yet. Following a lead to Boston. 

Three little dots showed you that he was typing, but you beat him to it. 

You: If that text is going to say ‘be careful’, don’t even send it. 

The three dots disappeared, before reappearing and turning into:

Steve: Yes ma’am. I’m sure everything will work out.    

_______

Twenty minutes later, your tablet pinged: an alert from SHIELD. You had already combined Boston PD with all your relevant tags. You handed your tablet off to Hotch as you voiced your findings, “Hey guys, I got a firefight in east Boston. Automatic weapons, sounds like our guys.”  

“ANnnnnd, I got video footage.” Garcia chimed, tapping away at her computer. She gasped, hands flying to her mouth. 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Derek pressed with concern. You scooted in closer to her to see, soon your understood her dread. 

“It’s, It’s, Emily. She’s here. Oh god, she’s walking into a trap.”  Penelope gasped. Her eyes were watering, but Hotch kept his cool. 

“Garcia, put in on the big screen.” He ordered sternly, but somehow still kindly. The blonde hacker nodded fervently, wiping her eyes from under those red glasses. 

“Right, Right, I can do that.” She said, mostly to herself as she followed through.  Soon the video was on the jets display. All the team members were silent the first time the video played through. The air in the cabin seemed thick with tension. Derek and Hotch visibly tensed, as if ready for a fight.  Next to you, Rossi’s expression hardened, the only readable emotion was disdain. Spencer looked as if he was cringing and couldn’t stop. Beside him,  JJ simply clenched her jaw and forced herself to watch- just as she had done when Spencer was taken hostage all those years ago, Emily had been knew then.  

You watched as Prentiss sprayed the car with bullets, shattering a window before throwing a flash grenade in the SUV.  Then she squatted down to cover her ears, but as soon as the boom was over, she was on the move again.  Stalking around the SUV, that’s when the camera angle switched. Now showing the passenger side, you watched as Emily seemed to negotiate. Then from out of nowhere, a man appeared and shot Emily twice. 

This caused a scream to erupt out of Penelope while everyone else either gasped or winced. Derek, ever the protector, attempted to comfort her with a warm arm around her shoulder, but it didn’t seem to help until the man (who you presumed to be Doyle) revealed her bulletproof vest. There was a collective sigh of relief when Emily seemed to stir. 

Just as quickly as Emily attacked, Doyle shoved her into another van that quickly sped off. Garcia took the screen off the monitor and tapped at her computer a little longer. 

“I can follow them two more blocks, but then they vanish.” She admitted, still furiously typing and apologizing for losing her cool.

When she finally gave up, she moved into the group displaying her screen. The video feed was backed up and ready to play again. The group looked at the paused screen, three men around the black range rover. 

You broke the silence, “They knew she was coming. Doyle was already lying in wait before Emily even got out of her car.” 

“From the first angle, it looks like Doyle got into the SUV. But from this angle, you can see that he didn’t,” Garcia agreed, switching the camera and playing the feed again, “Which I wish Boston PD warned us about before I started watching it. Sorry again for the screaming.” 

Derek watched the silenced video in shock, “She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car. She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

You stopped to think for a second, thinking of if it did bother you. You realized it didn’t, maybe it would have before SHIELD, but now that seemed like a normal course of action. That said a lot about the effect Natasha and Clint, hell even day to day life with SHIELD had on you. Before you could stop yourself, you lifted your eyes to him, “Three targets.”

Rossi clarified your statement, but didn’t seem to disagree,  “Well, three bad guys.”

Derek scoffed at the word change but Hotch spoke up before Morgan could air his complaints, “Illegal as it is, I think Prentiss knows she has to be as ruthless as Doyle.” 

“That’s how you survive.” You muttered, watching as the video played on a loop, not able to take your eyes off it, “It’s how spies survive.” 

“Don’t eve-” Derek started, but Spencer interrupted with something constructive. 

“He’s come to the US to wage a public vendetta. He even hired a group of mercenaries to remain loyal to him. He has nothing to lose, so she has to act the same way.” He defended Emily. Derek sighed in frustration, turning to look out a window. 

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?” Rossi asked, floating ideas around. You answered with another question. 

“Well, we’ve already discussed the probability of a mole. So who knew the Emily left the BAU?” You posed the question. JJ continued your line of thought.

“The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents? So someone who has known Prentiss from the beginning.” She nodded, glancing around the jet. “Our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash.”

Classic rat, selling secrets. A flash of anger went through you before you suppressed it. 

“How do we get Easter to talk? He won’t cooperate willingly.” Spencer asked. The group fell silent, and despite the fact you wouldn’t show it, you couldn’t help the hostility in your voice. 

“There are lines I can cross that you guys aren’t allowed to. SHIELD has looser rules on interrogation.” You offered angrily, glaring at the footage of Clyde Easter on the monitor. Hotch narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to read you but didn’t agree or disagree with your implications. Derek watched you with shock. 

“It won’t come to that. I’ll interrogate him, the rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.” He decided. The rest of the team nodded before Penelope piped up. 

“I hate to be the one to ask this, but,” She paused for a deep breath, “How long does Emily have?” 

Hotch tried to hide his own stress, but some seeped through, “Her best chance is also the most troubling. Doyle saved her for last because he views her as his stressor. This means he’ll take his time.” 

It was a bittersweet hope, but hope nonetheless.  

_______

When the jet landed, it was all a flurry of activity. A race against the clock to save a victim, that was a story you told to often. But this time, you had the feeling of impending dread in your stomach. This wasn’t a random stranger. This was Emily. 

The same Emily that force-fed you water on wilder nights, who had the sweetest cat named Sergio, who saved your ass more time than you cared to count. Emily who set you up on blind dates and drank wine with you when they ended up terrible. Emily who noticed your crush on Spencer and kept it a secret for an entire year until you had gotten over it and moved on- she was the only person who ever knew, and would likely take it to the grave. Emily who always had your back, both in the field and in life. Like the rest of the BAU, she was family, and it was hard when your family was in danger. 

Even though everything seemed to be moving at lightspeed, it somehow seemed not to be moving at all. In fact, you wondered if time had stopped until Rossi dragged in a scrawny man in an atrocious suit yelling obscenities. 

“Who’s that?” You asked as Rossi handed him over to the police. He wiped his hands in discuss as he answered. Hotch approached in interest. 

“Jack Fahey. Irish Mob. He called Easter’s cell phone 12 times in six hours.”  Rossi explained. You and Hotch nodded, seeing the thin connection. 

“Any connection with Doyle?” Hotch questioned. 

“Boston PD says he’s low level. But the Irish mob has long-standing ties to the IRA.” Rossi confirmed. Your jaw hardened. 

“I’ll put some feelers out. Maybe find a few more ties.” You sighed, pulling out your tablet to search through files. Keywords: Doyle + Fahey / IRA. The search was running through millions of files so you set it down while it loaded. 

“You two see if you can get anything out of him.”  Hotch nodded, turning back to Garcia as you and Rossi shared a look. 

____

You, Rossi, and Spencer stood in the doorway of Fahey’s interrogation room. Anyone could see that his skin was already crawling in discomfort, and having three sets of eyes on him would irk him further. 

“Alright, Jack, why were you blowing up Doyle’s phone?” You asked, making your tone as condescending as possible. His fingers drummed against the table impatiently. 

“Any of y’all got a smoke? Bean pole? FBI Barbie?” He sneered, licking his lips. You scoffed, letting his insults roll off you like water. 

“What do you think?” Rossi asked. You purposefully turned your back on Fahey, knowing the lack of attention from the only female would drive him up the wall. 

“Male ego narcissist masking deep-seated insecurity.” Spencer shrugged, looking between you and Rossi. 

“Loudmouth, overcompensating.” You feigned a giggle, “You know what that means.”

You looked over your shoulder giving him the “mean girl” once over. He started to object. But Rossi continued as if he wasn’t talking. 

“So if we puncture his self-image, this hood rat will talk.” He nodded. Apparently, being called hood rat was more of an insult than a little dick.

“Hey, hey, hey. I ain’t no hood rat. You take that back.” He demanded. You just smiled sweetly. 

“So admit to being... lacking in other areas?” You asked as you took the seat across from him. Spencer stood behind you and Rossi sat beside you. 

“I ain’t neither. I’m more than adequate and I ain’t a hood rat.” He growled, leaning back in the metal chair.  Rossi scoffed as you just smirked. 

“You look like one. Smell like one too.” Rossi paused to take a deep breath, “Smell that?” 

You and Spencer shared a look, dramatically sniffing the air before answering in unison, “Hoodrat.” 

“I am not! Take it back!” Fahey whined. This strategy was working quickly, and you hoped Hotch was having the same luck. Rossi stood, sauntering around the table and leaning down to eye level with the Irish mobster.  

Condescendingly, he asked, “Jack, do you know what a hood rat it?” 

Then he looked back to the two of you, “See what I mean, he’s just gonna have to learn the hard way.” 

Fahey held up his hands in surrender, “All right, all right, Clyde? he was going to pay my medical bills. This ear, it ain’t growing back.” 

“What happened to it?” Spencer asked from behind you. You nodded as if to say that was your same question. 

“This bitch teammate of his shot it. Said it was a warning.” Fahey growled. Seemingly not noticing the three of you share a look.  “Thought she could take on this IRA big shot named Doyle. So I told these- AHHH.” 

He was cut off by Rossi shooting out of his chair and grabbing the edge of his injured ear, he immediately went limp in his hold to avoid further damage. You inwardly cringed at how greasy his skin and hair looked but ignored it and his pathetic cries. 

“Where is Prentiss?” You growled, watching his eyes dart from you to your teammates as if they were going to stop Rossi. He kept stuttering words, using the word “who” like a lifeline. Spencer leaned across the table. 

“Lauren Reynolds, where is Lauren. Reynolds.?” He demanded. Rossi let go and sat back down, offering him a reprieve to answer. Almost sickeningly, his face lit up.

“Ohhh.” He drawled, his voice made your skin crawl in the worst ways as he cheekily smiled between the three of you, “Friend of yours, is she?” 

“You tell us where she is right now or I swear to god I’ll send you to a prison where they’ll teach you what a hood rat is.” Rossi threatened. Fahey only smiled, thinking he had the power back in his corner. 

“And by the time you do, she’ll be in pieces. So, uhhh. My price just went up.” He grinned. Spencer and Rossi only shared a look while you glared at the grunt in front of you. 

“Dr. Reid, do you have a pen on you?” You asked sweetly, eyes never leaving Fahey who looked more confused.  Spencer produced a fancy pen out of his cardigan, placing it in your waiting hand. “Thank you, will you boys wait outside. I just want to chat with Mr. Fahey here.”

Your voice was so sugar-sweet, that it bordered on malice. With another shared look, the two men left the room and turned off the camera that was recording the interrogation. You waited a few moments, staring at Fahey until he squirmed. He chuckled nervously, 

“Want ole Fahey to show you a good time? I mean I know your partners are still watching, but if it doesn’t bother you, it-” You cut him off with a harsh growl. 

“Shut up.” It was a stark difference from both your condescending and sweet tones. Jack even flinched as he registered your anger. In one swift motion, you were by his side, pressing the butt of the pen into the skin between in ribs and his side, right where the bend of his arm would touch. His entire body immediately seized up.

“I learned this fun little trick from a friend of mine that worked for the KGB in Russia. They made the IRA look like you, like a bunch hoodrats. You wanna know what’s happening? I’m pushing against your brachial artery. If I don’t ease up within the next forty-five seconds, you will start to bleed internally. If I even slip, I’ll puncture your skin and you will bleed out quietly in this chair. You will die a very slow, cold, and painful death, do you understand me?” You hissed in his ear. 

“The Feds don’t allow this! I got rights! They’ll see the video and you’ll go to jail.” Jack struggled, you chuckled bitterly next to his ear. 

“I’m not FBI, and the camera stopped rolling the moment they put a pen in my hand. And given your predicament do you think any of the actual FBI is gonna help?” You asked, pressing down ever so slightly. 

“Ok! Ok! I’ll talk!” He gushed, jerking away from you as you let go completely. You threw the pen on the table, as he continued, “On one condition. The government pays my medical bills.”

You raised an eyebrow, picking the pen up again. His eyes widened backing away, but Rossi entered before you could continue. He looked from you to Fahey.

“We’ll discuss it. (Y/L/N), with me.” 

You nodded, following him out. Once the door was shut, you turned to the older profiler, indignation clear in your voice “Rossi, what gives, he was about to give me everything!” 

Rossi nodded over his shoulder at Derek who was watching you in disgust in anger. You knew Derek disapproved of off the table methods, but this was Prentiss! 

“(Y/N), you almost killed him! That’s not how we do things. I don’t know how they do things at SHIELD or at Interpol, but in the FBI we try to beat the bad guys without stooping to their level- the KGB, really (Y/L/N)? We’re the good guys, or have you forgotten that?” He growled, voice bordering on patronizing as he followed you and Rossi out of the observation room. You gave it right back, emotions were running high and your frustration from Fahey, from Doyle, hell all the way from the last time Fury yelled at you- it was all boiling over. 

“First of all, I had it completely under control, he wouldn’t have died. Second of all, I can name ten interrogations off the top of my head when you turned off the camera or when Hotch had to pry you off an unsub, so I don’t even want to hear it.” You snapped before stopping dead in your tracks to turn sharply to him, voice rising with every syllable and hands gesturing wildly, “And lastly, Derek, I don’t know if you got the memo, but one of our best friends is being held hostage by one of the cruelest arms dealers in the books. This isn’t little leagues anymore, so I’m sorry if you’re too good to get your hands dirty, but I’m getting really tired of this holier than thou attitude towards Prentiss and me. I don’t care what beef you have with her right now. If you’re not prepared to give everything to this case, to get her back alive, then why are you even here?” 

Your eyes were alight with anger, and Derek’s eyes were wide with shock. He’d seen you angry at unsubs, even seen you pop off at Hotch before. But he’d never been on the receiving end, nor had he ever seen this kind of fury. Reid watched on, almost afraid to get between then two of you. Finally, Rossi decided to put a stop to it. He placed a hand on your shoulder, sharing a look that said, ‘Stop before you say something you regret.’ You nodded and let him lead you away from Derek. 

Once out of Morgan’s earshot, Rossi rubbed your back a bit- he was always more fatherly than he liked to claim. “You alright?” 

It was a two worded question, but you knew the implications. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, before shaking your head, “Sorry, I know now’s not the time for infighting. I just got so, so...” 

“I know it’s hard to keep your head on straight, but the important thing is that you didn’t say anything you couldn’t take back.” He nodded before motioning you along, “Now, let’s get back to what really matters. He’s either afraid of you or in love with you- I can’t tell, that gives us a little bit of leverage. What else did you notice?” 

You chuckled a bit at his joke, letting go of the anger as you answered. “Withdrawals. He needs a cigarette.” 

“Let’s use that.”

____________

“You know when a cigarette is best?” Fahey asked after a long drag of a cheap cigarette. Grey smoke swirled around him like fog on a lake. Derek was worried about me killing him? Lung Cancer will get him long before I do. You and Rossi simply rose an eyebrow, waiting in the cold air on the roof for Fahey to say anything useful.  “After sex with me.”

After that thrilling conclusion, you simply rose an eyebrow as Fahey licked his lips while looking at you up and down. He continued on to say, “The Fluorescents didn’t do you any justice, sweetheart, neither did the stabby stabby, but a fiery woman is attractive and I can be very forgiving.” 

Rossi stepped between you two, pretending to scare him off but really protecting him from you. Growling a harsh,  “Mind your manners.”

Fahey backed off, protectively covering his injured ear, “All right, whoa, whoa.”

Rossi continued own, glaring at the worm, “You’re already extorting us for Prentiss’ location.”

“It would be a real shame if you, I don’t know, ‘slipped’ on an ice patch and fell.” You singsonged, as you looked to the sky. Fear flashed over Fahey’s face before he smiled cheekily.

“If you keep being mean, I’m gonna fall in love with you.” He grinned. You simply rose a single eyebrow as Rossi put himself between the two of you.

“Listen pal, I don’t know how much longer I can hold her off, and up here she can a lot worse than poke you with a pen.” Rossi shrugged, stepping out from between you two. You just smiled sweetly, flipping the pen through your fingers.  “So out of curiosity, what’s it like working for Doyle?” 

“Eh. He’s not so tough.” Jack shrugged taking another long drag, so long that the cigarette burned down to his fingers. You offered another one and Rossi held up a light. You skimmed the rest of the rooftops, anything so you didn’t have to look at Fahey as he gushed about his ‘involvement’ with Doyle. 

“Wow, you’re really the man, huh?” You asked clearly not paying attention, looking at the building adjacent. Something about its silhouette just wasn’t quite right. But Fahey distracted you with another lewd comment. 

“I could show you how much of a man I really am...” He stopped when Rossi stepped closer forcing him to back off, allowing you to narrow in your eyes on the discrepancy. You’re eyes widened in realization a moment too late. 

The whistle of a bullet followed by a warm spray of blood punctuated his last disgusted comment. A sharp pain grazed your shoulder as you shouted, “Sniper, GET DOWN!” 

Rossi didn’t give you time to argue as he covered you with his body, pulling you to the ground. Two more rounds shredded through Fahey, making his body convulse before it hit the ground. Rossi covered you like you were his own child, holding your head against his chest until he deemed it safe. By the time you were able to get a good look at the sniper- no snipers, there were two- there was just a flash of silver off one building and the other retreating out of your firing range. 

Even with the warm blood dripping down your face, you didn’t think about your own life. Without Fahey, you might never find Emily. 

________

An hour later, the clock had struck midnight and your phone had been long neglected, forgotten on some desk as soon as you had arrived. After getting first aid (and arguing against going to the hospital), your shoulder had been wrapped where the bullet grazed you. You were dabbing blood off your shirt sitting on the bench outside the police station’s bullpen, mentally kicking yourself for wearing white. Hotch slipped in, watching you do so. 

“That’s not going to come out. How’s your shoulder?” He stated, sympathetically. You nodded with a shrug. 

“Could be better. I don’t know what else to do to other than twiddle my thumbs.” You sighed, resting your elbows on your knees. Aaron stood across from you. 

“(Y/N), we have a problem.” Hotch stated, your eyebrows furrowed, waiting for the rest of what he had to say, “Without Fahey, there’s not much left.”

“Hotch, unless you have a point, this is the worst pep talk, ever.” You sighed. Hotch didn’t even crack a smile, he never did on cases. 

“We all want to save Prentiss so bad, that we can’t see this case straight.” He admitted. Again you nodded. 

“Ok, what do we do?” You asked. You were at a loss, exhausted, upset, dirty, and you honestly didn’t know what Hotch was getting at. 

“None of us can give an unbiased profile. So we bring in someone who can.” Hotch nodded to you, handing your cell phone over to you. Suddenly it dawned on you what he meant. You had a call to make. 

________

Hotch left you alone to make a call, he didn’t know any of your SHIELD friends but he said he trusted your judgment. Clint was the first that came to your mind, but he’d told you everything he knew about Doyle, so he wouldn’t be much help, and he was biased. Natasha would have been a good contact, but she was on a mission. Your thumb hovered over Steve’s contact before finally pressing the call button. It took a ring and a half for him to answer, unsurprising he was up at this hour. 

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong, what happened?”  You smiled at the concern in his voice. 

“Hey, Steve, I’m fine, well mostly, but I could use a fresh pair of eyes- or well ears.” You started, waiting for his response to your not-quite question. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Steve asked and you smiled at his willingness to help. With a deep breath, you launched into the entire story, only sparing the bullet grazing incident. Knowing Steve, he’d sprint to Boston just to force you into a hospital. 

“Steve, you don’t know any of them, tell me, what sounds off?” You asked the soldier who had been patiently listening to you ramble. 

“Keep in mind, I don’t understand much about this profiling science, so it might not be very helpful, but...” He started, but trailed off. 

“Anything is helpful, we’re at a wall and the clock’s ticking.” You sighed, eyes closing as you leaned your head against the wall. 

“How does their affair change your profile? Does that truly affect it that much?” He asked, and while he had a point, you took the moment to relish the blush you knew was on his cheeks. Regardless, you’d already explored that point. 

“What else?” You pressed, wishing you could see his behavior. The other end was silent. “Steve, I’m sorry to put in this position but I can’t even see it straight anymore, please think!” 

“Why is he targetting families?” The Captain rushed out. And your eyes widened. 

“Steve, keep going.” You whispered, rushing into the bullpen and grabbing a dry erase marker. You jotted down, ‘families?’ as you listened to his search for the right words. 

“You said Prentiss is Doyle’s stressor, that he believes she wronged him. So why go after everyone else. The child in DC, it doesn’t fit with the rest of the story.” He rambled. You basically copied him word for word. 

“Rogers, I can’t thank you enough. If this whole SHIELD thing doesn’t work out, remind me to get you an interview at the FBI.” You smiled, praising him over the phone. You heard the rest of the team already chatting over ‘your’ discovery. 

“Anytime, (Y/N),  just be careful.” He conceded. You nodded as if he could see you. 

“I’ll try my best.”

__________

With Steve’s added push and a little help from Clyde, the team was back in action. You labeled him as a family annihilator and deduced he had a hidden child. From that, Garcia cross-referenced Irish Immigrants with Doyle’s employees. That’s where she found the pictures. 

A series of photos. A middle-aged brunette woman and a small blonde child. In the first few they were both crying to the camera, silver duct tape silencing them. In the next couple, there was a hand brandishing a handgun. And in the last three, the photos showed them limp, blood trailing down from the bullet wounds. The photographs were sickening, gruesome in every way. Aside from the obvious, something was wrong. You clicked through them, trying to decipher what your gut was telling you. Spencer watched over your shoulder, seemingly sensing the same thing. 

“(Y/N), look at the hand.” He muttered, and you complied gasping as you understood. Garcia looked at the pair of you in confusion before Derek voiced their question. 

“It’s a hand in black clothes.” He shrugged. Spencer shook his head, reaching over you to point at his epiphany. 

“No, look at the nails.” You clarified, examining the jagged and short edges Spencer was pointing at. Garcia gasped. 

“Oh, oh my god.” Was all she managed, subconsciously scooting her rolling chair away from the computer. First assumptions- worst assumptions- ran through your head at Mach speed, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. 

Regardless of the implication or whatever your instinct was trying to tell you, you spoke, “Garcia reference search warehouses, secluded or abandoned, with their own perimeters, cross that with any Interpol activity. .” 

She simply nodded, clearing away the gruesome photos from her screen. You did the same with your mind, I’ll find out the truth from Prentiss when we save her. We’ll sort this out.

“Got it. 1518 Adams Street.” 

Garcia’s words from earlier that night rang through your head, Emily, I think of how scared you must be, in some dark lonely place. But, Emily, we’re waving flashlights and calling your name. We’re coming, just stay alive. 

_____

“Agent Prentiss is the only friendly in the building. Rescuing her is out primary objective.” Hotch ordered as you all geared up. Safety’s clicked off, ammo clicked into chambers, velcro ripped on and off as vests were strapped on- it had been a long time since you wore FBI labels you thought as you tightened the straps- and there was a collective sense of determination and nervous energy in the air. 

“Our only advantage here is stealth. Once they know we’re on-site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her.” Derek- always in charge of strikes- informed. “So we keep it quiet until we get to her.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement as the briefing disbanded. To your shock, Derek approached you. The look he gave you wasn’t friendly, but wasn’t hostile either, so you decided to hear him out. 

“Like you said, this isn’t little league,” He began, watching you clip extra ammo clips to your belt, “I’m sure the strike team is great, but as it stands you have a better grip on this than me. I want you in there with me when we go in.”

You simply nodded, holstering your gun. Derek had an automatic weapon slung on his shoulder, while you just opted for extra handguns, giving you three loaded guns on your person. One in your hip holster with a silencer attached, one in the waistband on your pants, and an ankle holster hidden by your pants. Taking some of Natasha’s advice to heart, you also slid a tactical knife into your vest- just in case. 

Derek wasn’t done though, “I don’t know this world, and frankly I’m not comfortable with it. But I can sort my issues out with Prentiss when we get her back. And I need someone I trust in there watching my six.”

The statement seemed mundane, but you knew the meaning behind it, someone I trust. That was as close to an apology as you were getting, but you offered him a genuine smile- you’d take it. Just like old times, you wrapped your arms around him, and he returned the hug. Like a brother to me. 

“We good?” He asked as you let go. You nodded, raising an eyebrow as if nothing ever happened. 

“Let’s get this son of a bitch.” 

___________

Entering the warehouse was nervewracking, as everything relied on stealth. A silenced sniper took out the two guards at the gate, allowing your’s and Derek’s group to enter. Every guard and goon was taken down by a silent bullet, a quick and quiet end to their life. You kept your wits about you. Every step was a step closer to Prentiss. You thought was you stepped quickly behind Derek, eyes sweeping crook and cranny.  

As more and more thugs appeared, the group fanned out. It was a sad fact that anyone who saw you had to be killed or incapacitated- no one could spook Doyle. Not when you were this close. 

You waited for Hotch to send the signal. Winding through hallways, gun at the ready, you waited. Every ounce of anger and frustration you tunneled into fine-tuned senses as you followed Derek. The two of you stuck together, the rest of the team was checking other buildings. As you entered the first large room, you heard it. A struggle, Prentiss’ yells and a man’s grunting as you heard the fight. At the same time, the group of enemies noticed the two of you- your first count said nine. Then it happened, the power went down. That was the signal for all hell to break loose.

“DEREK GO!” You shouted, as two rushed towards you. You shot at one blindly, hitting him in the leg. The other didn’t have a gun so he tried to grab you. You delivered a roundhouse kick to his face, hooking the bend of your knee around the back of his neck and pulling him to the ground. The butt of your gun whipped across his face before you finally pull a bullet in him. Derek gaped at you for a moment, before snapping back to reality. 7 enemies, one injured

“I’m not leaving you!” He yelled back, fighting off another. BAM. Six and one injured. 

“Derek, you have to trust me. I got this.” You growled eyes adjusting to the dark as a particularly large man hulking up to you, “Emily needs you. She’s fighting, but she needs you.”

Derek hesitated, but finally growled as he complied, sprinting towards the sound of Emily’s struggle as you emptied the rest of your clip into the giant approaching you. He was easily seven foot and padded with extra layers of flesh and maybe a vest, he grunted at the shots but he didn’t slow down.  Part of you regretted sending Derek away as your eyes the other five approaching you. 

Make Natasha proud. You thought as you vaguely heard Derek demand back up for you over the comms. Lightning fast, you dropped the empty clip before replacing it with a new one. This time you emptied it into his chest and forehead. Almost inhuman, he kept walking for a minute before finally collapsing in on himself. Five, one injured. You locked eyes with every other man in the room, a moment of calm before they all rushed at you. 

A tall, lean man with blonde hair was the closest to you, so you pitched the empty gun at his face like an MLB pitcher. It hit his nose with a satisfying crunch, causing him to stop to hold onto his bleeding face. Four, two injured. 

The next was almost of a caricature of an Irish stereotype: short, red-headed but balding, square jaw, and bulky with muscle. He had a jagged scar running from his eyes to his neck. He was too close, you didn’t have time to grab another gun. You realized that too late, a solid fist connected with your ribs. The pain was immediate, but just as Nat had trained you, so was your reaction. Her voice echoed in your head as you dropped to the ground and swept his feet out from under him. ‘Your enemies won’t wait from you to recover, neither will I’

 After a swift kick to his redhead, you turned to your left swinging your leg up and around to look around the next nearest enemy, a stocky bald man. Using your leverage, you pulled yourself up and twisted, grabbing your ankle gun at the same time. This sent the bald man to the ground, disorienting him long enough for you to put two shots into his head. Three, two injured. 

In your distraction, the redhead had recovered, sneaking behind you wrapping his strong arms around you, pinning your arms to your stomach. “Drop the gun, bitch.”

You didn’t, so he squeezed you hard enough that you swore you felt the already throbbing ribs crack- or maybe it was your elbow- forcing the gun out of your hand. The blonde, face now dripping blood, approached. 

“Hold her steady for me, Mckellan.” He smirked after kicking your knees, forcing them to buckle before balling his hand into a fist. The grip on you tightened and you braced yourself for a hit. Even with the preparation, it didn’t ebb the pain. You had been punched before, but not like this. You felt the curve of his knuckles whip your head to the side, right where your eye met your cheek, you watched as your earpiece clattered to the floor. The blond kicked it out of your sight. The force dizzied you, but you didn’t get a reprieve. ‘Mckellan’ dropped one arm to take hold of your hair, jerking your head up just in time for the blonde to hail another fist onto your face. This time landing on your jaw, allowing you to taste the blood in your and feel it trickle down your face. 

They laughed expecting you to be done, as your head hung for a second. You defiantly lifted your eyes to the blonde’s, spitting out a mouthful of blood and hoping he could see the murderous glint to your eye. He did, and you saw the fear in his as he registered too late. With all your strength, you threw your head back- twice. The first time you hit your captor's nose, you felt it crumple. The second time was his chin, you felt the force cause him to bite down. Hope you didn’t want your tongue, you sick fuck, you thought as his hold loosened. 

With a little more freedom, you jumped up and arched your back, wrapping your legs around the blonde's neck. With all your might, you threw your body to the ground, twisted your hips, and bent your knees. You felt all your muscles strain but were rewarded with a sharp snap as the man went limp. One short breath before you lunged for your gun, kneeling and aiming it at Mckellan who had just spit out his bloody, severed tongue. Your lip curled in disgust as you pulled the trigger. Standing up, you kept your count, Two left, two injured.

Before you could even find your next target, someone launched onto your back. The sudden weight disoriented you as grubby fingers pulled at your face and hair, causing you to once again drop your gun. His grubby fingers prodded at your face and his heels dug into soft flesh to hang on. Base instinct took over, their weight causing you to blindly stumble backward until you hit a wall. Feeling the contact, you grunted in anger pulling back before ramming your attacker against the wall again. The short man shouted curses at you but didn’t let go. With a primal growl, you did it again, harder this time. Checking him into the brick wall with as much force as possible. This time he dropped, and you instantly whirled around kicking him in the stomach as he scrambled to his knees. You took the leverage, your fingers knotted into his greasy black hair, to maximize force you brought your knee up at the same time you brought his head down. You didn’t know whether he was dead or unconscious, but it didn’t matter as he crumpled to the floor- he wasn’t getting up anytime soon. 

 For a moment, you leaned against the wall forgetting there was still another attacker. You were panting and sweating, fatigue set in as you lost your momentum. The ache in your head blossomed, reminding you of the hits you had taken, your shoulders were sore from Mckellan’s hold, your knees from the blonde’s kick, not to mention the two blooming bruises and busted lip on your face, (you wouldn’t be surprised if your nose was broken), the koala attack and the hockey style defense you put on had your entire bottle rattle, and that was just on top of normal body fatigue. I could really use a super-soldier right about now you thought. 

Of course, your moment of rest was no longer than fifteen seconds. Just enough time for someone to tackle you from the side. You shrieked in shock and pain as you hit the ground on your already injured ribs, your attacker's weight adding to the hit. Your head smacked against the concrete, and you saw stars and you tried to escape as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. 

It took a moment for you to regain your wits, but when you did, you rolled. Your attacker fell away, or at least his weight shifted enough for you to scramble away. You saw your gun a few feet away, so you scrambled towards in on your hands and knees. Seeing your plan, the bearded man grabbed your ankle and hauled you back to him. In anger, you twisted around, your other foot stomping into his face. You knew you wouldn’t make it to your firearm, so instead, you leaned up and tackled him back to the ground. The two of you rolled a good distance before you ended up with the upper hand. This time with you on top, you delivered one well-executed punch to the face before slipping the knife out of it’s hiding spot. With a growl, you brought down the knife, but he caught the handle as the tip pierced the skin above his heart. For a moment there was a power struggle, he was no longer fighting for Doyle, he was fighting for his life. 

But you were fighting for Emily. A rush of determination lit a fire in you. You reared back, balling up your fist and hitting the butt of the knife like a hammer. It plunged the blade in an inch. Sensing how close you were to winning, he flailed underneath you, trying to hold off the blade with his remaining strength. With one last growl and hit delivered to the knife handle, the last of Doyle’s men slacked against the bloody floor.

 After all the struggle, he was dead rather quietly. Besides the injured one, that should be all of them. You heard the click of a gun safety sliding off.

“You’re too late bitch, Doyle’s alread-” BAM smoke rose out of the hole between his eyes as he fell over.

His (him being the first man you shot in the leg) gloating distracted him before he even had a chance to aim at you. The moment you heard the click, you’d slipped your hidden firearm out. With a groan of pain, you rose to your feet. Everyone in the room either dead or wallowing in pain as Swat flooded in. Slowly, you moved to pick up you earpiece, entire body protesting movement.

“-A MEDIC IN HERE. PRENTISS IS DOWN.” You tuned into the last bit of Derek’s pleading. Like you had been electrically shocked, you were recharged, tearing towards Derek’s location. It was three hallways over, and as you came in, your heart broke.

Emily was on the floor, a bloodied piece of wood sticking out of her abdomen. Derek was beside her, holding her hand. He noticed you, eye raking over your body. You knew you probably looked like hell, but he didn’t comment. There were other priorities and your health didn’t make the list at the moment. 

“Go after Doyle, he can’t have gotten far!” He ordered, you nodded, taking one last look at Prentiss- her eyes lolling around- before you sprinted out the back door. You could hear a commotion up ahead so you followed the noise, reloading your gun as you went. Turning a corner, you could see Doyle across the train tracks about to get into a car, staring straight at you- smiling. 

“IAN DOYLE, SHIELD, PUT YOU’RE HANDS IN THE AIR AND GET ON YOUR KNEES.” You thundered, anger tearing shreds in your already sore throat. Into your comm, you asked, “I have a shot, do I take it?” 

Hotch picked up as a train whistled its approach, “Yes, take the shot.”

Right as your finger twitched against the trigger, your comm hissed in your ear causing you to flinch- but not take your eyes off Doyle who was now grinning like the Chesire Cat. 

“Belay that order. Agent, you do not take that shot.” A new voice took over your comms. 

“Who is this? On whose orders?” You heard Hotch demand. Your eyes remained on Doyle, who curiously hadn’t moved. Anxiously, you gripped your gun tighter keeping your target in firing range. The train was getting closer, making it harder to hear, the spotlight lighting up the night. 

“Order comes from the World Security Council.” The voice shot back. You growled although no one could hear it. You were taking the shot, you had already decided. You didn’t care if you spent the rest of your life in federal prison. Doyle deserved it. Hotch was still arguing with the new voice as your entire body tensed. 

Time moved in slow motion, you were losing your window. Running forward, you squeezed the trigger, bullet ricocheting off metal. But you were too late, the train cut in front of you like a knife. 

“Guys, I’ve lost my visual. Does anyone have sights on Doyle!” You shouted into the comms. Trying in vain to see past the train. Slamming your earpiece into the ground, you screamed a slew of curses at the top of your lungs- your anger, desperation, and anguish being lost in the noise of the locomotive. Minutes later, the end of the train flew by you. Revealing what you already knew, Doyle was gone without a trace.

Another hiss of curses fell out of your lips as you turned on your heel and sprinted back to Emily and Derek. Arriving just in time to see the EMT’s put her on a stretcher, you hunched over to catch your breath. Though you still had plenty of anger, your adrenaline was fading fast, no longer masking any of the pain you were in. You hissed as you limped behind Derek, trying to catch up to Emily’s stretcher. 

“How’s she?” You asked, not arguing when he slung one of your arms of your shoulder to help you. His jaw hardened. 

“She’s been through hell. Lots of blood loss. Maybe some internal bleeding.” He shook his head, leading you back through the warehouse. Back through the room that held your handiwork.  Derek saw this too.

“You look terrible. I shouldn’t have left you.” He remarked, watching as an agent pulled a sheet over the guy with a knife in his chest. You shook your head.

“If you stayed with me, Emily would be leaving in a body bag. She’s got a chance because you scared Doyle off. I’m the one who let him get away- I should have taken the damn shot.” You reprimanded but ended in a low snarl, one arm going up to cradle your ribs that were now throbbing. Normally, there would have been a handful of jokes and a few innuendos in there. Derek would have teased you and questioned you on where you learned to do all that. You would have teased him about being able to kick his ass. But now, there was only resignation. The case was over, but Emily’s fight wasn’t finished. 

When you finally saw the light of the ambulance, Hotch rushed to you. Eyeing you up and down. “We’re going to meet Emily at the hospital, should I call another Ambulance?”

You shook your head as Rossi appeared- the ambulance was pulling off with sirens piercing the night air, “Minor wounds. Nothing to worry about.”

Both older men looked unconvinced but didn’t press the matter, allowing Derek to help you into the back of an SUV. You sank into the seat beside Spencer, who was wringing his hands with worry. He gave you a once over before beginning to ramble about minor injuries and the statistics on death’s in the US. For once you didn’t have the energy to listen or pretend to listen, you just stared at him blankly until it tapered off, ending with his handing you a handkerchief. You took it gratefully, lacing your hand through his as a comfort and dabbing the cloth to your face as the SUV pulled into the road.  

The radio clock read 3 AM, and the night showed no signs of an end. 

____

Garcia and JJ met the rest of the team at a hospital, where the whole lot of you were ushered into a waiting room. Garcia fussed over you a little, which you knew was because she was so worried about Emily, but couldn’t do anything so you allowed it. Several nurses tried to drag you to the ER for treatment, but you refused every offer until JJ came up behind you. 

“Emily will be in surgery for the next few hours, go get patched up. I’ll come to get you if anything happens.” She told you, it was quiet and gentle, like the warm hand on your shoulder- a stark contrast to everything else that night. You hesitated, looking back to your team and then to the doors that lead to Prentiss. Sensing your hesitation, her blue eyes locking with yours, “Prentiss would be the first person to drag you into an ambulance.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded, letting a short Hispanic night nurse lead to the ER. She, along with a gaggle of other nurses and one doctor’s approval, went to work. They cleaned out the numerous cuts and scratches along your face and arms, diagnosed you with a mild concussion, wrapped your knee (advising you to buy a brace if you wanted it to heal right), and told you that you fractured two ribs. You refused X-rays, knowing that they’d take to long. So with their work done, most of the nurses went to their next patient. 

The one that brought you stayed behind and despite your silence- Claire Temple her name read with a smiley face beside it, was incredibly kind. She handed you two wet hand towels, “You’ll feel better with all that blood off you. Be careful where the skin split though.”

Tiredly, you sponged off the blood- which did make you feel a little less gross- and was careful around the bandages. Claire stood behind you, deft hands working through your hair- pulling out glass, twigs, and god knows what else- before twisting your hair into a loose braid. With a kind smile, she offered you a bottle of water and two large white pills. 

“Thank you for your kindness, but I need to be-” You started to protest. She dropped them in your hand regardless. 

“Honey, those are max strength ibuprofen. You’ll be perfectly alert, as long as you can stay awake.” She smiled- you were exhausted, the clock on the wall read 4:02 AM- stepping to the side. “Go wait with your friends, your other friend should be coming out fo surgery soon.”

Her kindness was something you really needed at that moment, a reminder that not everything was terrible, so you mustered the sweetest smile you could, “Thank you, I really needed that.” 

“I know, now go.”

_______________

The waiting room was bleak. Hotch and Spencer took turns pacings. In the time you had been back, Spencer had gone through three cups of coffee. Garcia was beside Derek- who hadn’t moved, only holding his head in his hands- nervously tapping her pen against her notebook. JJ was in and out, making a thousand different calls. Rossi stared into thin air as he was lost in thought. 

You had only been in there for forty-five minutes, but as you sat a few seats away from everyone else, mentally beating yourself up- I could have taken that shot. I shouldn’t have even asked permission- your anxiety was already bubbling over.

When JJ entered the room without a phone in her hands, you knew something wasn’t right- as did everyone else in the room. A single pull of her lip confirmed everyone's fears. Some tried to remain stoic- Hotch’s jaw hardened, Derek hung his head- others immediately broke- Garcia gaped, denial written across her face, Spencer was shaking his head like he was being lied to.   

“She never made it off the table.” JJ tried to keep a smooth tone, eyes meeting the floor. Your heart shattered, Emily was gone. Doyle actually killed her- you didn’t save her. Your eyes were hot with tears, and before you knew it your feet were carrying you out of the waiting room, out of the ER, out of the hospital. 

Your throat was constricting, tears blurring your eyes as you slid to a stop. You didn’t go that far outside, but the distance felt like miles. It said a lot, that you ran outside- the rest of the team is inside, together. You thought, choking on a sob, you thought bitterly, God, how fitting. I left, just like I left them. 

Your thoughts kept devolving, breathing becoming erratic as it became sobs became harder to hold in, I left, maybe if I stayed I could have noticed something was up with her, brought it up sooner, figured Doyle out sooner. We shouldn’t have waited for SWAT we could have been there twenty minutes earlier. I shouldn’t have listened to Morgan, I should have stayed with them and helped stem the bleeding. I shouldn’t have asked permission to take the shot. I shouldn’t have listened. I should have taken the shot. It wouldn’t have brought Emily back but at least her killer wouldn’t be running free. I should have taken the shot.

You dropped to your knees against the cold pavement, allowing yourself to cry as you looked to the sky for some sort of answer. All you found was a hospital helicopter heading east. You sat outside, in the middle of March in Boston, in a short-sleeve not even noticing your shivering until a warm hand was on your shoulder. You looked behind you to see Hotch, who shrugged off his coat and put it on your shoulders. He helped you up, his ever so serious eyes looked at you- and as always you felt obligated to give him an answer. 

“I should have taken the shot.” You croaked, now acutely away of how cold, hungry, sore, and exhausted you were. Hotch shook his head. 

“You had orders not to.” He corrected, stoic as ever. That was good, the team needed a rock in all this. But at that moment, you didn’t see that. 

“He got away.” You choked, wiping at the near-frozen tear trails on your face. For the first and only time in your life, Hotch pulled you into a hug. It was stiff and cold, and honestly reminded you of every ache and pain, but the sentiment was nice. 

“We’ll catch him again. Let’s go home.”

________

I was excited for this, but then it turned out,,, bad

taglist: @irishfaulk97 @viarogers @toboldlyscream @benji-booxx @sophiiev @thebadassbitchqueen

[jjonesin4]

Songfic Writing Challenge

Day 21: A song you like with a person’s name in the title

Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles

Here’s an extension of Day 19 from Jughead’s POV

JJ: Hey love, sorry it’s so late. Veronica is insisting that I stay here for the night due to the snow storm. 

BJ: I guess those maternal instincts are kicking in early.

JJ: Haha, yeah. Arch begged me to just go along with whatever she wants. I’m guessing that living with  pregnant Veronica is...challenging...let’s go with challenging. 

You going to be ok?

BJ: I’m fine. SweetPea is still here. He fell asleep on the couch 10 minutes into the second movie. Who falls asleep to Home Alone? ::scoffs:: Amateur. 

You ok with him staying tonight? I don’t want to wake him up. I can make the 3 of us a big breakfast when you get home tomorrow.  

JJ: Of course! Always in for a big breakfast!

I’m glad you’re not alone, but I still wish I was there with you.

BJ: I always want you with me <3 

JJ: I love you. Have dirty dreams about me. ;)

BJ: <Betty Jones sent an image>

Wish you were here. 

Love you. Best of luck sleeping now ;)

JJ: Fuck, Betts. You trying to kill me with that shot? 

I’m not complaining. What a way to go!

___________________________________________

Jughead stares at the photo of his wife tangled in their flannel sheets in nothing but his old S tee shirt for a good 10 minutes before he can put his phone on the bedside table of the ornate guest room at the Pembrook. 

He turns the small lamp off and settles into the impossibly soft bed wearing his tank top and boxers. The expensive blankets and down pillows should lull him to sleep instantly, but the bed feels entirely too large and empty to be comfortable. 

Jughead’s mind drifts back to his wife. It always does. He misses the full size bed in his trailer with Betty’s limbs weaving between his. The weight of her head on his chest. The sound of her steady breath. 

She was baking when he left to help Archie. He imagines it still smells like gingerbread at home right now. If he knows his girl, there is a cookie jar filled with gingerbread men decorated with little crowns just for him. She always makes him his own batch. What did he do to deserve her? Nobody deserves love like that.

He’s overcome with a profound feeling of gratitude for whatever crack in the universe brought them together. 

Jughead remembers life before he let her in. Alone. Hiding in corners at school and the back booth at Pop’s watching all the lonely people of Riverdale. Wondering where they all belong. Wondering where he belongs. 

Then one fateful day, she looked at him and he didn’t look away. Just like that, he belonged to her.          

Jughead thinks that Sweet Pea is about to have his entire world thrown off its axis by befriending Betty. He is one of those lonely people Jughead has noticed throughout his life at Sunnyside Trailer Park. 

Sweets doesn’t have any family and he only forms surface relationships with the other Serpents. He likes to crack jokes and be the life of any party. Jughead doesn’t think he’s ever had more than a one night stand. Sweet Pea has no idea what it feels like to have somebody care.  

On the flip side, Betty doesn’t talk about it, but he knows there’s a void left from her awful family abandoning her. He also knows that she’s thrilled for Archie and Veronica to have a baby, but the dynamic is already shifting. 

Jughead understands that she could use another friend. Maybe Sweet Pea came into Betty’s life at just the right time. They could be good for each other. 

Jughead is finally able to drift off to a peaceful sleep thankful that he belongs to Betty.

[pretty-restless-insomniac]

Tear Me To Pieces (W.C. 1,738)

Fandom: Riverdale

Word Count: 1,738

Pairing: Sweet Pea / Reader

Rating:  Teens and Up

Summary: "You couldn't just stay away, could you?" Pea's eyes shine with unshed tears and bites his lip shaking his head. You can't stand it any longer. 

WARNINGS:  Cussing

Part One I’m Not Her

Part Two Say Something

AO3  Or Click Keep Reading Below!

    You sigh as yet another call vibrates through your phone, disrupting the rare moment of peace you're finally experiencing. You know its him. Pea wasn't joking when he promised to be relentless. It's been a rough month since your last conversation, but thats something you won't ever tell another soul. Riverdale doesn't exactly have the best track record of keeping secrets, so you bode well to suffer in silence.  But damn, you miss him so much. Crying yourself to sleep nearly every night has taken not only a mental toll on your body, but quite noticeably a physical as well. You've barely eaten, face slightly gaunter and dark purple bags under your eyes. And mentally, you're  exhausted, a constant war waging inside of your mind. To give in or fight through the loneliness.

     But when the  phone started to ring again, your body makes the choice, launching at your phone to quickly answer it. 

   "Hello," you flinch at the croak that comes from you. 

    "Y/n, Jesus-Christ in Prada boots, you sound like shit, everyone's been trying to get ahold of you for the past 3 weeks! Three! Where the hell have you been?" You almost hate yourself for the small stab of disappointment that it wasn't him but you merely wince at Cheryl's blunt response.  Before you could muster up a crappy excuse, you hear a sigh and the phone being snatched away by her pink haired beau.

    "Don't mind her, Y/n, she doesn't take being ignored well - baby, no, I love you for it don't worry- ," her voice gets softer when she talks to her girlfriend. You hate the tears that well up in your eyes at tone, and you hate your mind for replaying all the times you were addressed in that soft tone, from your own love. Fucking. Hell.

     "Y/N, you still there?" You shake your head, trying to calm your racing mind.

      "Yeah, I-I'm here," You take a deep breath hoping for your voice to be at least a little more steady, "I'm sorry for disappearing on you guys, I've just had a lot to think about. And I think best alone, but I-I think I'll be o-okay now." 

     You almost laugh at your own lie as you catch sight of your horrid appearance in your dresser mirror. 'Okay' when the fuck is anybody really okay? What does okay even mean? The awkward silence ensues as Toni decides within herself whether it would be better to call you out on your lie, or not. You can just imagine the standoff going on between the two Vixens right now, no doubt having you on speaker, and no doubt one wanting to call your bullshit more than the other. A disgruntled groan is your only warning before you realize that yes, you're in for it..

     "Okay? Yeah, and you're also not supposed to mix gold and silver jewelry but does it look like I give a damn? Listen, what I'm about to tell you is what you told me when my darling JJ was taken by the cold clutches of death and deceit. Get your shit together. Take off the stupid Snoopy PJ's that I know you're wearing. Put on a bra, yes, the buckle type, boo-hoo. Pull on the red dress in the closet that I got you and do whatever you have to do to get the rest of you presentable. Blow torch, laser, hell I don't care, but you got 5 minutes till I'm picking your sulking ass up. We're going out."

     You're stunned when the line goes dead, eyeing your PJ's with wonder. You're not sure what being gifted you Cheryl Blossom, God or the Devil, but you know you're dead if you don't start running around now. Off you go, moving more than you had in the past few weeks, and becoming out-of-breath embarrassingly fast. You stand in front of the mirror, contemplating what to do with your hair. Luckily you sleep in braids so it's not a complete rats-nest, and you're relieved when soft waves fall past your shoulders. Your pale complexion and purple bags can't be helped much, so you decide to just fuck it and go without makeup. You're not trying to impress anyone anyways. 

     You're shuffling your way to the door, when it's suddenly thrown open and in strolls your raptor. Cheryl eyes you before scoffing and rolling her eyes, reaching her hand into the bag Toni is holding. Toni sends a sympathetic smile before Cheryl's tossing a pair of low-heeled sandals your way. You eye them and then eye the determined aura surrounding the red bombshell, deciding to pick your battles instead, and begrudgingly pull on the stupid shoes. Cheryl puckers her lips scanning your face but a look from Toni sends her stomping her way back into the car, Toni and you following behind. As you settle into the back seat, you fold your arms and stare out the window, wishing you could crawl back into bed right this minute. Stupid caring friends. Cheryl turns on the radio, drowning out the heavy silence with some upbeat tempo. 

     "Where are we going?" Toni reaches up to adjust her mirror till you can see the dazzling smile she sends your way, which you're sure she meant to be reassuring but actually worried you more.       "Well, Veronica's having a little get together at the speak easy so Cheryl and I thought it would be good to get you out and about. Betty and the rest of them will be there too!" You bristle a little at the thought of being around so many people so soon,  you feel like you're coming out of mourning. But you need to move on, you tell yourself, enough hiding away. You just nod, tongue too heavy to give any other reply, but also too heavy to ask your only question. An unspoken one that Toni can catch in the  glint of your eye.

      "No. He- he went out with Fangs tonight. Figured you two weren't ready to be around each other yet."

        You turn back to the window, fighting down a new wave of tears but Christ, you weren't sure if they were from relief of disappointment of his absence. You don't have time to ponder it though, you've arrived and Cheryl practically throws herself out of the car desperate to get to the soirée. You step out continuously tugging at your dress and Cheryl fusses with your hair before linking herself between you and Toni before strutting up to the packed venue. Cheryl pushes the three of you past the line of people, and you can't help but to giggle as Toni sends out apologies to the other jilted guests. You breathe a sigh of relief as you finally descend into the speakeasy, quickly staring in wonder at all the beautiful decorations. You don't know how long you stand with your mouth open but soon Cheryl's placing a drink into your hand and pushing you towards your group of friends to 'mingle.' 

    "Y/n, I've been so worried," Betty pauses during her skip towards you to glance back at her beanie wearing shadow who offers a soft smile and a nod," we've been worried." You gently squeeze her when you're drawn into her arms, trying to keep all your thoughts and emotions buried deep. You refuse to be anymore of a burden.

    "No need, I'm a big girl Betty. It's just a little high-school drama."  

    You pray she buys the smile that you plaster on your face, a timid one is returned though it doesn't dull the concern shining through her eyes. You need to get the attention off of you.

    "So where's V?" Betty looks at you for a - painstakingly long - moment more but then turns to point out the hardworking entrepreneur behind the 'bar.' Perfect.

    "I'm gonna grab a refill," you lift your empty glass, "want anything?" At her quick deny you scurry off before any other intervention of feelings come upon you. You've only been here for 5 minutes but you're already wanting to steal Toni's car to go home. No doubt the Cherry Bloodhound would catch you, but maybe some air would help just as much. Your legs move faster at the idea and soon you're pushing past some ignorant kids making out in the phone booth, flashing a small wave at Pop's before you're out the door. You face the building running your hands down your face and the brisk air filling your lungs. Finally alone.  

    "Y-Y/n," a wavers a voice from behind you.

    For fucks sake.

    The voice, his, sends shivers through your body but it looks as if you were shivering. You feel him walking closer, practically feeling his breath on your neck, but instead of his hands a jackets placed over your shoulders. You whip around, and Pea's eyes widen as he steps back, afraid he's crossed the line already. Your eyes asses over his figure, taking in the similar purple bags under his eyes that haunt your own. He's in nothing but a white t-shirt, his breath visible in the cold air. You move to return the jacket but he steps back again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

    "P-please, it's cold. I don't want you out here freezing. " You don't know what to say, the awkward silence causing you both to look down at your feet hoping maybe it would swallow you whole. 

    "Listen, I, uh, I promised Toni that I wouldn't show up here tonight. I- I was with Fangs but I, well," he stops to scratch the back of his neck, you blushing when you catch the slight show of skin as his shirt lifts. A surge of anger hits you, but more at yourself than him. Embarrassed at how much control he still has over your body but too bad it doesn't come out that way.

    "You couldn't just stay away, could you?" You push away the guilt that stabs you when he flinches, looking away,  at your brash tone.  Pea's eyes shine with unshed tears and bites his lip shaking his head. You can't stand it any longer. Your blood is roaring in your ears as you close the last the last few feet of distance and clutch the neckline of his shirt, dragging his face down to yours.

    "I swear I really fucking hate you." Then you mold your lips to his.

[stattic-writes]

Nomenclature

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

Support My Writing?

[cheryl-in-a-barrel]

two’s company, three’s a crowd - choni one shot

AO3 Link 

A/N - Just a short little one shot continuing from the end of episode 4x03 when Toni finds Cheryl with Jason's body. Explores a lot of the thoughts they would have had running through their heads in that moment and the conversation they might have had. Nothing too exciting happens, but I thought it'd be interesting to see how the rest of that scene could have possibly played out. Hope you enjoy it!

--- 

“Toni!” Cheryl exclaims through her watery smile, looking up at her girlfriend from her place on the floor with a contrasting mix of tears streaming down her face and a bright grin pulling at her lips.

“You haven’t met Jason yet, have you?” She rhetorically asks, eyes growing impossibly wider when she does.

The last few months her biggest fear has been Toni finding her brother’s body. She would do anything and concoct any lie in order to keep Toni away from the basement chapel. Though, in this moment, she doesn’t really mind. Seeing that rat squirm amongst her brother’s skin, it snapped something inside of her.

It was a reminder. A reminder of Jason’s irreversible condition. Alive people didn’t have rats crawling through their flesh, no, that trait was specifically reserved for the dead, and that fact hit Cheryl hard as she smashed the invasive rat to death at her brother’s feet.

To protect herself, she sunk her delusions further into the depths of her mind. She could feel herself slipping away from reality a little bit more, and in actuality, she isn’t that mad about Toni finding Jason in this moment because, in this moment, she believes Jason is truly here.

It is the most she’s believed since bringing Jason home, and although it is most likely nothing more than a temporary lapse of judgment sprung on by a rude wake up call in an attempt of a defense mechanism, it’s concerning. Even Cheryl knows that, deep down in her deteriorating psyche, she knows, on some level, that this is too far.

“Cheryl,” Toni croaks out, the simple name sounding so broken as it leaves her lips. Her own tears are pooling at her eyes as she stares at the horror scene in front of her.

Toni can do nothing but stand there, frozen in place, as her mind fights off about a thousand different instincts, leaving her helpless to do anything at all.

There’s a part of her, a big part, that wants to run. Run away from what she’s seeing right now and never look back. She could run and only hope that the image of her girlfriend leaning over a corpse with so much love and care in her eyes is one that eventually drifts from her memory. A distant thought that one day is nothing more than a blurry picture she can’t totally recall.

But she isn’t the one here who is trying to kid themselves.

Toni knows that the sight before her will be burned into her brain for the rest of time.

There’s another part of her with the urge to first run forward, where Cheryl sits. She wants to take Cheryl with her and then run far away from this haunted mansion never to return. She still loves her, dammit. Even in this very moment, staring at the broken girl, she loves her more than she’s ever loved anything or anyone. There’s a part of her that thinks maybe if they left, if they did nothing else but put Riverdale behind them, than maybe they would heal all on their own. This part of her remembers so vividly that first summer after they got together, driving motorcycles across the country, laughing and dancing and stargazing and fucking for the first time. They were so happy. They were falling in love, and none of the dramatics of Riverdale mattered, they hardly even thought of their hometown whilst they were gone. That summer, the only two things that existed were themselves, and Toni imagines, only briefly, if they could recreate that feeling by simply packing their things and leaving once again.

But they would never be allowed the luxury of trying such a thing. They couldn’t leave Riverdale behind no matter how hard they tried. They had to get their diplomas, they had twin babies to look after now, the only lives they’ve ever known are right here in this town.

And besides, would it even really change anything?

Riverdale may be a cursed town that brings nothing but pain to the people who live here, but too much of that pain has already been inflicted. It lives inside of them now, and even if they left, it would follow. In this moment, Toni isn’t quite sure what the answer to healing is, but she’s smart enough to know leaving isn’t it.

So that leaves only one option left. To stay. Even though Toni’s rational mind urges her to flee, she listens to her heart, which begs her to stay.

They’ve been through hell and back, Cheryl and Toni, surely they could get through this too. Right?

“Cheryl,” Toni repeats, feeling the first tear roll down her cheek as her shaky voice continues, “What are you doing?”

Cheryl looks back up at her, her makeup beginning to smudge from how much she’s crying and how bad her lips are wobbling.

Her tears are all but plummeting down her cheeks, it appearing as if there is no end to her inner downpour, and yet, Toni doesn’t hear a single sound. No wails or whines, no choked sobs or uneven breaths, not even a sniffle. Cheryl is only smiling. If Toni had her eyes closed, she wouldn’t have the slightest clue that Cheryl was crying, or that anything was even wrong at all.

“I have to fix him,” Cheryl responds, looking at her girlfriend with an almost pleading look in her eyes. Though, Toni isn’t quite sure what she’s pleading for. Even so, she takes it as a positive sign, because perhaps Cheryl’s pleading eyes indicate that she is aware of what the sight in front of Toni must look like. She’s aware of how not normal this all is.

And Toni thinks that maybe Cheryl’s words run a little deeper than surface level. That what she truly has to fix is herself, but she has no idea where to even start.

Toni swallows slowly and takes her first step forward. She’s chosen her direction, and she’s chosen to walk toward the girl she loves as opposed to far, far away from her. They need help, both of them need more help than imaginable, but Toni decides they’ll get help together. As they’ve always meant to be.

Every step she takes is harder than the last but she doesn’t stop until she’s about a foot away from Jason’s body. She refuses to get any closer than this, already beginning to feel bile rise in her throat from being as close as she is.

Toni slowly sinks to her knees, ensuring to keep her eyes off of Jason as much as she can, and especially being careful not to look at his face. She caught one glimpse of his face as she was coming down the basement hallway, and she’s decided that glimpse was enough for one lifetime.

Cheryl is putting all her concentration into the task in front of her, being abundantly cautious and gentle as she brings a sewing needle down to her brother’s chest.

Toni reaches out with a shaky hand and lays it over top of Cheryl’s, effectively stopping the girl’s movements. She puts her eyes nowhere else but her girlfriend’s face, now giving the other girl a pleading look of her own as she silently begs Cheryl for something. An explanation, a reassurance, a confession. She doesn’t even care, she just needs something other than the silence.

Cheryl’s eyes stay fixated on their joined hands for a long time, before finally, she raises them to meet Toni’s.

“TT, I can’t fix him unless you let go,” She states, still desperately clinging to her facade of normality. Hoping, wishing, begging that Toni will simply play along. That she won’t make her choose, that she won’t make her stop. Cheryl wouldn’t be able to take it, not now. It would break her for good, Cheryl knows.

She doesn’t want to choose Jason over Toni, because she knows, deep down she knows, it isn’t actually the choice she wants to make. But it’s safer. Jason can’t leave her, not again. He can’t decide Polly Cooper makes him happier than his sister for a second time, he can’t want to escape this town and consequently Cheryl all over again, he can’t get himself killed when he’s already dead. But Toni can. Toni can do all that and then some and the thought absolutely terrifies Cheryl.

“Cheryl,” Toni begins slowly, truly not even knowing what to say. Talking to Cheryl is never difficult, all she has to do is speak her mind and the words all but flow out of her. But this time, nothing is coming to mind. It’s blank, and the last thing she wants to do is say the wrong thing, so it takes her a long time to get the words out.

“Look at what you’re doing, baby. Do you really think this is what Jason would have wanted?” She tries to get through to the girl, voice calm and eyes soft, doing everything in her power to keep her cool and prevent this conversation from turning nuclear. Toni needed to get through to Cheryl, not push her away.

Cheryl tilts her head to one side. She looks conflicted as she digests Toni’s words, eyes falling from her girlfriend and instead finding Jason’s defaced chest once again.

And the sight is all it takes for her to sink.

“Yes!” She responds desperately, “I brought JJ home so he doesn’t have to be alone anymore, everything is the way it’s supposed to be again,” Cheryl explains through her tears, and there is no mistaking the thick sincerity in her voice. She believes her words, every last one of them. Not because they are logical or reasonable but because she needs them to be true. In Cheryl’s traumatized mind, this is how she puts the pieces back together.

Toni can feel the fear building in her chest as she comes to terms with how deep Cheryl is in her own delusions. She has helped Cheryl navigate through a lot of dark times but she has no idea where the hell to even start this time. She’s not equipped for something like this.

But she has to be, Toni thinks.

Because she’s all Cheryl has, she’s the only one who can get through to her.

And the thought crosses her mind, for all of three seconds, that she could simply call Betty asking for the contact information of that facility they sent Polly to. That she could go behind Cheryl’s back, for the girl’s own good, that she could get her professional help.

But ultimately, she can’t do it. She dismisses the thought as quickly as it entered her mind.

Toni’s too loyal for her own good. Too soft. At least when it comes to Cheryl. She could never do that to her.

And fuck, after what her mother did, sending her to the sisters without any warning, simply locking her up against her will. Toni will never do that to her. Never.

And maybe it’s wrong, but she doesn’t care.

They will find another way.

Toni slowly releases Cheryl’s hand, shakily brining her own hand to rest in her lap.

With a grateful smile, Cheryl gets to work on fixing Jason.

“I knew you’d understand,” Cheryl sighs in relief, her whole body feeling lighter now that this giant secret is off her chest.

Toni winces slightly at the words.

“We still need to talk about this, babe,” Toni speaks as firmly as she can muster.

She tries to find the right words, stuttering through her sentences, “You can’t keep—we need to—there are going to be ground rules,” she finally settles on.

Cheryl looks up through her lashes, rapidly nodding her head in agreement.

“Whatever you want, TT,” She promises, “As long Jason can stay, right?” She hesitantly checks.

Toni sighs, rubbing her temples as she feels a headache start to build.

“...For now,” She agrees slowly, “But Cheryl, I need you to promise me that you will put Jason back in the ground where he belongs and soon.”

She notices the apprehension in Cheryl’s eyes immediately. The redhead isn’t very happy with that term and it shows, but she’s smart enough to know that trying to fight Toni on the matter won’t do her any good.

“Ok, TT. I promise,” Cheryl nods, her sad, pouty eyes meeting Toni’s.

“Good,” Toni breathes, naively hoping that it will really be that simple. That a few days will go by, maybe even a week, and then Cheryl will return Jason to his grave and that will be it. This horrifying and heartbreaking chapter of their lives will be over. They can get back to normal. Everything will be alright.

Toni hopes so anyway.

But hope, it’s a fickle thing. Toni would soon learn that, after witnessing “a few days” turn to weeks, and watching her girlfriend slowly deteriorate in front of her while the time passed.  

[mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker]

MJ in Mayhem in Manhattan

In 1978 the first ever Spidey novel was written. It holds the distinction of being the only Spidey novel ever to be 100% canon and was written by then ASM writer Len Wein and soon to be Spidey writer Marv Wolfman.

The novel has been out of print since 1978, but just this week got an audiobook adaptation that I’m currently listening through off and on.

I’m hoping to give my full thoughts on the novel at some point, but I’m writing this because, to my surprise, MJ shows up in this.*

I’m early into the book so she’s only been in 2 scenes and might not sure up again for all I know but I thought I’d post about them nevertheless.

They’re a mixed bag to be short.

To give you the short story her role thus far has been to show up at Peter’s apartment at 10.30 am and demand info regarding their ‘understanding’. She wants this info specifically because she just heard from Glory Grant that Jonah was going around the office pronouncing that he’s paired Peter up with a new female partner, a female partner who is allegedly incredibly sexy.

This puts Peter ‘in dutch’ with MJ to use the novel’s turn of phrase, although he’s never even heard of the woman in question.

He and MJ march over to the Bugle to resolve the situation and Jameson as it turns out has paired Peter up with his niece who’s trying to break into the news business. Peter and JJ argue leading to Peter being fired.

MJ apologizes for the mix up and tells him if he needs ‘anything’ to just ask (that’s code for ‘I am willing to have sex with you’ in case you didn’t know kids).

Before I say anything else, we do need to contextualize this novel.

The MJ you know from modern stories or from hindsight is NOT this MJ.

This story is so old it predates not only Chameleon smashing MJ, ‘I ALWAYS knew you were Spider-Man’ MJ or ‘I have a party girl facade to deal with my commitment issues’ MJ. No it’s so old that the IDEA that MJ’s parents were divorced or that she even has any family beyond Aunt Anna hadn’t been dreamed up yet. The former even came from Wolfman’s own run a few years later.

Like this story is so old it was written and released before Peter’s first marriage proposal to her. Hell the run immediately following the one that killed Gwen Stacy was still happening at this point in time. Again, I have to stress that this was made in 1978!

What I’m trying to say is that in analyzing MJ in this story you can’t really use any of the stuff we know from retcons and the like. She was a more simple character than she would later become and her and Peter’s relationship wasn’t as deep.

Nevertheless...I found this to be out of character.

A lot of this hinges upon how you interpret what MJ means by her and Peter’s ‘understanding’. I’d be interested in hearing other people’s thoughts on that because at first glance I at least presumed it just meant that they weren’t going to be fooling around with other people.

This MIGHT be a subtle reference to how in Wein’s run MJ did briefly go out on a few dates with Flash Thompson to make Peter jealous, something they moved on from in that same run.

But it doesn’t really jive with two people in love. Then again, Wein’s run was kinda weird with that. Conway left Peter and MJ very clearly in love and meaning a lot to one another but Wein, whilst not exactly contradicting that idea to my recollection, kind of just wrote then as ‘dating’.

If I was to draw some positives I guess there is an element of flirtation within MJ’s character which is true to form and she is assertive but not going full on Silver Age Betty Brant or Gwen Stacy.

But at the same time like...she’s still pissed off simply because she heard second hand that her boyfriend was working with...a sexy woman.

Not dating her. Not making out with her. Not even flirting with her.

She is just someone he works with.

Does she also get upset that Peter had to see his ex Betty Brant every time he went to the Bugle?

It just seems so irrational, stupid and kind of...out of character???????????

Now in fairness MJ DID have her moments of insecurities regarding her relationship with Peter in Len Wein’s run, but those were a little different. She got a little possessive at times, but that was more about Peter leaving her high and dry so he could go off and be Spider-Man, not jealousy over other women.**

I dunno...maybe I’m just not clued in enough to the social/romantic dynamics of 1978 New Yorkers (or how 30ish year old men believed those dynamics were like for early-mid 20 year olds). Like maybe back then if you were working closely and one-on-one with someone obviously attractive you were expected to tell your girlfriend/boyfriend????????

Or maybe it’s just bad writing? Maybe bad writing that’s coming from a place of like ‘aw shucks, wimmen amirite! Always causing trouble’.

What I’d be most interested to know is who did what on this novel, Wein and Wolfman. Because whilst Wein wasn’t perfect I’ll be brutally honest, he handled MJ WAY better than Wolfman who most of the time clearly didn’t like MJ or her relationship with Peter that much. My kneejerk reaction is to say this was his doing, but I don’t want to cast stones unfairly.

*That’s one for any debates you get into folks. Not only was MJ in the first Spidey films and video games but the first ever Spidey NOVEL too!

**Ironically, in spite of what you might stereotypically expect, of the two MJ actually gets jealous more frequently than Peter does.