#christ.) and then DAI is like so big it actively gets boring and they cut all kinds of quest lines like they sacrifice so much in the name

[ziracona]

I would so much rather play a game that is shorter and looks worse and has less area, but is complete, than an expansive beauty where they do shit like like the most beloved companion dies 99% of the time because they just cut the entire last 3rd of their questline, and didn't even patch the end to not default to a failstate.

[redrobin-detective]

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch. 

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death. 

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave. 

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air. 

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough. 

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die. 

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town. 

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper. 

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light. 

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally. 

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

 Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock. 

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

[after-witch]

Yandere Ransom Imagine

“That's some heavy-duty conjecture.”

Word Count: 2700ish

notes: unhealthy relationships, emotional and physical abuse, financial abuse, yandere

Imagine being a struggling adult working a full time job plus freelancing gigs just to get by in your one-bedroom apartment where the ceiling always leaks when it rains and you have to perform a complicated maneuver to make sure the door doesn’t jam up on you and you’re constantly worried about your landlord raising the rent.

Maybe a well-meaning friend gets you a gift card to an upscale bookstore because they know you haven’t had a new book on your shelves in years, or maybe you find $20 on the street like a veritable Charlie Bucket but instead of buying a Wonka Bar you head into a this fantastic artisan coffee shop on the rich side of town, a place that everyone always raves about on Instagram, just so you can try an expensive latte with hand-ground beans and flavors you’ve never heard of before--because don’t you deserve a treat, for once?

Whatever it is, wherever it is, Hugh Ransom Drysdale is waiting inside and sees you there.

And oh my God is it obvious that you’re out of place right off the bat. I mean, what the hell is someone like you doing in this part of town?

With your worn out clothes that are worn from necessity and not from being fashionably thrifted and your ratty purse stuffed with papers and candy wrappers that spill out when you dig in for your card or cash and your winter boots that you’ve probably worn 5 years in a row, ripped in the hell and patched with black tape that you hope people don’t notice.

It becomes even more obvious that you’re out of your element when something goes wrong. The gift card isn’t activated. The $20? A fake, probably a movie prop that blew in the wind. Whatever goes wrong, it means that you’re suddenly at the register, impatient people with real money tapping their expensive shoes behind you, unable to pay. You’re left standing there like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do or say.

Normally he might just roll his eyes and remind himself that people like you ought to stick to your own shops, your own place. But something about the way your eyes go all downcast and you seem to shrink down in embarrassment makes him take pity on you. Like a stray cat in the alley hoping someone will toss it some scraps.

So he strides up and flicks out a card and hands it to the cashier, dropping a friendly greeting to them because he spends like crazy and they probably know him by name at this place, and he’s the one who hands you your coffee or your bag and your hands touch ever so briefly during the exchange.

He leads you away from the register--don’t want to piss off the spoiled debutantes and assistants on lunchtime coffee runs--and you stammer out a thank-you-thank-you and you promise you’ll pay him back as soon as you can and Jesus Christ, isn’t that just adorable? Someone like you, some lost kicked puppy who can’t even afford new boots, promising to pay him back?

He doesn’t care if you pay him back, but he finds that he would like something out of this exchange, so he says that instead of paying him back you can do him the honor of going to lunch with him. His treat. 

He insists. And you can’t really say no, can you? You are hungry and he did just pay for your things and it’s the least you can do to oblige his request.

He’s not stupid. He doesn’t take you to some razzle dazzle fancy restaurant where you’ll feel embarrassed and out of place. Instead he takes you to a quiet diner, classy not greasy, where you can have an easy conversation and tell him all about yourself.

It’s funny. Normally he brings up his family name, his grandfather’s books, to women he picks up, to get them impressed and hooked and pliable. Something about you, though. Something about you is making him want to turn this into more than a lunch date and pressure for a quickie in the car to repay him. 

So he holds back to see what he can do with you on his own. No quickie in the car, but instead before he drops you off--at a bus station, you insisted--he brushes his hand over yours. Can he get your number? He swears he can feel the heat coming off your cheeks as you fumble for your phone and let him put his number in your contacts.

He waits a day, then asks you out again. Dinner, this time. He asks you if you know any good places and you recommend a dive bar that you can go to after work (because 1) schedule and 2) cheap) and shit, he’s all for it. There will be time in the future to impress you with restaurants that have dress codes instead of sticky floors. You sit close on the stools and you buy him a drink (real cute, real real cute) and just for you he keeps the baggie in his pocket there all night instead of heading to the bathroom to liven things up.

Your relationship develops with an almost shocking speed. He knows just how to reel you in. I mean--look at you. Working your ass off at some dead end job, living in an apartment so shitty it takes you almost a month before you reluctantly agree to let him see it.

He can understand, though. Because you’re not that stupid and you know he’s wealthy, even before he casually brings up his family in a “it’s no big deal but I don’t want to keep things from you because we’re getting serious” sort of way. 

You pretend to be casual about it all, but he can tell you’re suddenly wondering: why the hell would someone from this wealthy family want anything to do with me?

It’s a question Ransom asks himself a lot. He asks himself this when he’s snorting coke off another woman’s stomach (hey, you’re dating, but he’s got needs and they aren’t met with hand-holding) or when he’s eating another greasy burger at a shitty bar because you refuse to let him buy you a nice dress to wear so he can take you out somewhere fancy.

You’re not the type of person he normally goes for, not at all. He has strings of girlfriends and flings, but they all tend to fit that same cookie cutter mold: wealthy do-nothings with their parent’s credit card who want someone else to spoil them for a while, without caring who it is or what they’re like. They’re easy pickings that Ransom can burn through and then toss aside when he’s bored of them. Some of them cry but a few days later he’ll see them on someone else’s arm, it’s the circle of life.

With you, though, there’s more. You don’t expect him to pay for dates or anything at all (even when he wants to spoil you a bit) and you have actual conversations and you seem to actually give a shit about what he says and does. You argue with him, too, when he wants you to do something (just let him take you shopping, for Christ’s sake!) or he asks you to move in (again) and you say no (again). I mean, you really fight with him, spitting words and all.

And unlike his previous girlfriends, you don’t come crawling back a few hours later because you want to buy a new purse with his shiny credit card. Instead, you make him apologize first. Fuck, that’s hot. It’s also something he tucks away in the back of his mind to work on later--but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t admit that he sometimes has the overwhelming urge to push you against the wall and fuck you for the first time right after a good argument. 

But he knows that would destroy your image of him entirely, so he holds back. He’s good at crafting a version of himself that appeals to others when he has to, and you’re maybe the first person that’s been worth all the effort he’s put into you so far.

But you need a push, a push that makes it so you can’t go running back to your shithole apartment when you fight or when you question whether or no you two have a future. You do, you’re just too naive--too inexperienced with money, to say it charitably--to realize it.

So he tips off the fire marshal about your apartment building’s shoddy fire escapes and well, damn, in the process of the investigation all the little corners that your landlord has cut come crashing down. At least they were discovered before it was the building that came crashing down.

But the evacuation of the building leaves you--and countless others--high and dry. You don’t have any family in the area, and your only half ass-decent friend in the city lives in the same building but her parent’s aren’t going to let a stranger move in.

When you finally realize you have no options and call him, voice tentative and embarrassed, he knows just what to say to get you to pack your meager belongings and wait for him to pick you up. He’s no-nonsense about it. 

He knows how to avoid deflating your pride, how to keep you from deciding you’d rather stay in a shelter than take his charity. You’ll pay him back, he says, you’ll figure out a rental plan or whatever. He even teases--he’s not the best landlord, but he won’t take 2 weeks to change the toilet if you submit a maintenance request. It makes you crack a smile and bam, just like that, he knows he’s gotten in.

That night, after takeout and wine and a Netflix movie neither of you paid attention to, you fuck for the first time on his expensive sheets on his expensive bed and afterwards, when you’re both sweating and cuddling and reveling in the afterglow, he makes a note to buy you some new lingerie. 

It’s all very homey, for a while. He could do without you leaving for work and working your ass off, with your freelance shit, sometimes staying on the computer until two, three in the morning. But it’s nice to have you close all the time, available to him whenever (almost whenever) he wants. He brings home takeout and you snuggle on the couch and he finally even convinces you to go out with him to a nice restaurant wearing something he’s bought and hot damn, do you look good, head-to-toe in the clothing he’s chosen for you. Especially, later that night, in private, in the lingerie. 

Does he love you? The word hasn’t left his lips yet, hasn’t crossed yours either, but he can feel it underneath the surface. No. It’s more than love. He wants you. He wants to have you. And not just for the afternoon or the summer, but forever. 

He spins daydreams about how he’ll clean you up nice and introduce you to the family. Probably to Harlan, first, because everyone knows that’s whose opinion really matters. Harlan will like you--he would probably like you without any primping or fixing, actually, which is more than he could say for his parents or anyone else in the family. Then once you’re in, you’re in--you’ll come to family dinners and vacation retreats where people always end up in ridiculous arguments, and you two can exchange snarky comments about the family on the ride home.

And yeah, sure. You fight sometimes.

He throws out your old clothes and buys you a wardrobe befitting someone he wants to integrate into his family. You fight about that.

He makes comments about you how you should quit your job or at least try to get a degree--he’ll pay, as long as you agree to go to a university within driving distance--to work somewhere more respectable than a chain restaurant. You fight about that.

He gets pissed when you want to meet some “friends” at a bar without him, because why would you need to go anywhere without your loving boyfriend in tow, unless you were trying to flirt with someone else? You definitely fight about that.

And, okay. Maybe he’s hypocritical.

Maybe he goes out late at night when you’re stuck doing your “freelancing work” and he’s in a rotten mood about it, and he ends up on the floor of a swanky club with drugs in his system and lipstick on his neck. He doesn’t come home until the next morning and you’re pissed and red-eyed and arguing with him, accusing him even, but you have no shitty apartment to stomp back to anymore so you’re stuck. 

Until you’re not stuck. Until he casually snoops through your phone and sees that you’re looking up cheap-ass apartments and hey, you’ve already booked a few interviews already. The thought of you slipping through his fingers makes him more sober than he’s been in a while. He’s got to do something. Not to himself, of course. But to you. To keep you with him.

It’s easy enough to get you fired. He’s a ‘Thrombey’ after all, and some nice crisp bills anonymously sent to the right hands is all it takes for you to come home one night, cheap mascara (he notes: buy you some better quality makeup soon) running down your cheeks. Your freelancing isn’t nearly enough to get you into an apartment.

He assumes that you’ll give up on the idea after losing your job, but you’re nothing if not stubborn (one of the reasons why he likes you) so you start the job hunt the next morning, fresh mascara in place. 

Damn, do you keep him busy. Anonymous calls. Cash in nice white envelopes. Rejection after rejection. You get so sad, so depressed. You don’t even want to go out to restaurants, so he orders in and you snuggle in his lap while he feeds you bites of orange chicken and rubs your back. It almost brings you two closer again, starts to mend the rifts that began when you refused to get over his occasional late night out.

But then you break the uneasy mending by snooping and woah, you don’t like what you find on his phone. 

You fight. 

Damn, do you fight. This time there’s no pretense of potential forgiveness as you begin wildly throwing your clothes into your ratty duffel bag from the back of the closet, telling him to fuck off fuck off fuck off, telling him he’s crazy, telling him that what he’s doing is fucking illegal and--

It’s the shock that hurts you the most.

The shock you feel when he grips your wrist hard and pushes back on your shoulder when you try to yank away, pushing you against the wall with a hard thud. It’s like having a rug pulled out from underneath your feet when you feel a slight ache in your back, on your shoulders, when you tell him to Let go, goddamn it and he only pushes back harder to keep you in place. It’s Ransom. It’s Ransom who’s doing this.

His voice feels unrecognizably cold when he leans in and hisses in your ear.

“You think you can just leave me? After all I’ve done for you? Let me tell you something--you won’t get another job within one hundred miles of here, within one thousand miles of here, unless I say you can. So just put your clothes back in the closet, chill the fuck out, and stop being such an ungrateful bitch.”

It’s the shock that makes you numbly hang your clothes back up in the closet, fold them again with shaking hands, and sit on the bed until the dam breaks and you cry.

And oh fuck, he’s sorry. Really. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and then he’s the one who’s crying and confessing that he didn’t want you leave him because yeah, he knows he’s a fuck up, he knows he’s got a drug problem, but he loves you. 

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud. He loves you. “I love you,” he says, again and again, half-laughing.  And he tells you you’re the only person he’s ever dated that made him want to be a better person but he doesn’t know how.

You don’t know what to say because maybe you do love him--but he hurt you and got you fired, but the tears on his face seem so genuine and he tells you he’ll never, ever hurt you like that again and fuck, he says, if you want to go get a job he’ll drive you to the interview right now just-let-him-blow-his-nose-first-please.

You make him sit down and then you’re the one apologizing and the rest of the afternoon is a shaky truce between you two as you drink hot chocolate and order in takeout and watch a movie together.

It’s not until you’re both under the sheets, satisfied and then showered, that you think about what he did to you in a clearer light. The thoughts weigh heavy on your mind, pulling and tugging. You think you might love him. He hurt you. He took care of you when no one else would. He cheated on you. 

I love you, he tells you, when your mind is starting to tug itself into sleep.

He hit you. He said he was sorry.

He hit you.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The Reward of Suffering

next chapter

Summary: A retelling of the events of season 12 episode 13. 

Gif credit to the wonderful and talented @imagining-in-the-margins​

A/N: After several months of contemplation, I have finally decided to post part one of my first ever fic on Tumblr! This fic will follow the event of Spencer’s prison arc, so needless to say there will be SPOILERS. This first part is super long, but I felt that it needed to be in order to set up the plot. I hope you all enjoy reading! If you would like to be tagged on future updates, let me know!

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader

Warnings: no smut (yet), mentions of past frug use, cursing, typical CM case talk

Word count: 12.1k

           “Reid is in jail.”

           I felt the color immediately drain from my face and an intense feeling of dread began to wash through my body. I sat up in my chair, back ramrod straight. I briefly looked towards the faces of my teammates, Luke and JJ to my left and Penelope to my right. Their faces were all contorted, displaying varying degrees of shock and confusion. It was hard for any of us to process what we were hearing. The idea of Spencer Reid, the same Spencer who wore a mask to the office on Halloween and put on elaborate magic shows for everyone’s children, doing anything that would warrant being put behind bars was preposterous.

           Surely, this is all just a big misunderstanding.

           “Jail?” Penelope squeaked out. My eyes flitted to her, taking note of the way her eyebrows were drawn together in disbelief. She was thinking the same thing I’m sure we all were; that there was no way Spencer Reid had engaged in any illegal activity. Spencer was a well-educated, highly regarded FBI agent, for Christ sake. He knew the laws of the land better than any of us.

           “In Mexico.”

My attention focused solely on Emily. In the few weeks since I had come to know her, I had begun to look at her not only as a sort of fearless leader, but also as a kind of fiercely loyal friend that I was incredibly lucky to have. Emily somehow managed to find the perfect balance between being accommodating and stern. She was the kind of boss you could have a drink and cut up with after a long day, but she also carried herself in a way that demanded the utmost respect in the workplace. Emily Prentiss’s bravery was unmatched, and I admired her for that.

It shook me to my core when her eyes met mine and I saw the pure, unbridled fear in them. If Emily was scared, then this must be leagues worse than we could have ever imagined.

“What the hell is he doing down there?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and shuffling from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him. The call came in to Cruz from their lead investigator.”

Luke was the next to chime in. “What’s he being held for?”

“Drug possession,” Rossi said, before taking on, “with intent to distribute.”

For the second time that day, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Images of Spencer sitting across from me in a dimly lit coffee shop, tripping over his words as he confided in me, spilling his deepest and darkest secrets in a voice barely above a whisper. His voice had grown stronger as he neared the end of his story and he had dug deep in his satchel, producing a small golden coin. We both had tears in our eyes as we looked at the writing engraved into the coin; unity, service recovery. Spencer Reid was ten years sober, and the pride on his face was as clear as day.

There was no way he would throw all of that away.

“What type of drugs?”

“Cocaine and heroin,” Rossi said, his voice shaky.

Rossi and Spencer had always had a good relationship. Spencer had admired his work long before he met him, having read and reread every book he had ever published. It had delighted Spencer that he and Rossi had managed to develop rapport so quickly. Rossi was the only one talented enough at the game of chess to even think of giving Spencer a run for his money, though many of us had tried. In one of many hushed conversations shared on the jet, he had once told me that he had begun to think of Rossi as somewhat of a father figure; he didn’t quite fill the role in the same way Gideon had, but Spencer was thankful just the same. One look at Rossi’s troubled expression was enough to tell me that the feelings were definitely mutual.

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening.” JJ was positively crestfallen, clutching a hand against her own chest in an attempt to ground herself. Her other hand came up to her face as she absentmindedly pushed her hair away.

“We need Lewis and Walker here, ASAP,” Emily directed her order and Penelope, who was quick to comply.

Everyone sprang into action, but I found myself unable to move, weighed down by the deeply unsettling circumstance. It felt as if I was no longer in my own body, like I was watching everything unfold from an outsider’s perspective. Maybe I am, I thought. Maybe this is all just some horrible nightmare. Any second now, my alarm will go off and this will all be over.

I waited and waited for my alarm to sound, but that never happened. Instead, Emily crouched down in front of me, grasping my arm firmly in her right hand.

“I know how devastated you must be. Trust me, I do,” she sympathized, her deep brown eyes boring into my own. “But Reid’s going to need you now more than ever. You’re his best friend and you know him better than anyone. Did he ever mention to you that he was going to Mexico?”

I shook my head numbly, my motions feeling alien and stilted.

“Never. He told me the same thing he told you; that he was going to Houston for a few days to meet with his mother’s doctor,” I whispered. I feared that if I raised my voice any higher, tears would begin to fall. Maintaining my composure was becoming harder with every passing second, and I wasn’t exactly privy to breaking down in front of my boss. “I guess I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Emily sighed, letting go of my arm before straightening up.

“Apparently, none of us did. But I know damn well that this has to be a mistake. We’ll get him out of this.”

           The apprehension in her voice told me that even she wasn’t sure we could pull this one off.

--

           “This has got to be Scratch,” Tara stated, her voice wafting through the speakers of Luke’s laptop. Emily, Rossi, Luke and I were currently in the jet, on our way to the jail where Spencer was being held. All of us were huddled close together around the computer, listening on with eager ears. “He was laying low, and now we know why.”

           “Crossing the border as a fugitive is a huge risk,” Luke pointed out.

           “The reward is even greater. He’s been punishing the team, and now his target is Reid.” Emily’s voice was full of frustration and contempt.

           “Peter Lewis dropped off the map after attacking Tara’s family,” Stephen chimed in. Not even his deep baritone voice could do anything to calm my frazzled nerves. “Maybe he’s been hiding in Mexico this whole time.”

           “We also have to consider that it isn’t related to him,” I murmured. Several pairs of eyes locked on me, shocked. I had been uncharacteristically quiet since this whole ordeal began, limiting my responses to one word replies and hums of acknowledgement. On a normal day, I’d be throwing in my two cents any time I saw fit. Today, I was struggling just to keep breathing.

           “Who else would it be?” Rossi asked.

           “Drug cartels. Could’ve threatened Reid and used him as a mule.” Saying his name was painful, because it reminded me that we weren’t just talking about a victim with whom we had no personal ties; we were talking about our colleague and beloved friend.

           “Agreed,” Rossi nodded. “This could simply be a case of bad luck. Reid was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

           “Spencer’s mom is okay.” JJ’s announcement was like music to my ears. I let out an audible sigh of relief. “The home nurse he hired said all is stable.”

           “How long did he tell the nurse he’d be gone?”

           “Three days.”

           “That sounds reasonable. After the Palm Springs case, Reid said he had to get back to Houston to talk to his mom’s doctor,” Emily interjected. I nodded along in agreement. He’d told me the same thing when I talked to him the night before last.

The fatigue in his voice had alerted me to the fact that things hadn’t been going so well with his mother. Her condition had been rapidly deteriorating in the recent months, prompting Spencer to make the tough decision to remove her from the assisted living facility she was at and into his own apartment. His main argument had been that no one could possibly take better care of his mother that him; that he was familiar with her condition and how best to respond when she had an episode. When I had asked him how he was handling it all, he was quick to reassure me that it was not anything he couldn’t handle.

Spencer’s loyalty ran deep; so deep that I knew he would do anything in his power to take care of Diana, but I’d never imagined that it would land him in fucking jail.

“Well, Houston is only a five-hour drive from the border,” Tara mused. “The question is, why did he go down there?”

“And why does he have narcotics?” Rossi was the first to speak on what was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

“Yeah, exactly. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do that. Those drugs were planted on him,” Penelope insisted.

“Absolutely, but there’s something bigger in play. That’s why he crossed the border and kept it a secret. There’s something he didn’t want to share with any of you.”

I cringed at Stephen’s choice of wording. Spencer and I were as close as two people could be, and there was nothing I withheld from him. He knew everything about me, every dark and embarrassing thought that had ever crossed my mind; yet, he accepted me just the same. I had always assumed that it went both ways, that he was just as honest and forthcoming with me as I was with him. It hurt to know that there were things he kept from me, secrets that he felt he couldn’t trust me with.

But most of all, it absolutely gutted me to think that he was dealing with something so horrible that it landed him in jail, and he that he had to do it all alone.

“Okay, so what would make him risk everything?” Emily pondered aloud.

“His mom.” My answer was instantaneous.

A ping sounded from the other end of the video call, and we all leaning in, our interest piqued.

“Cruz just sent me the arresting report,” Penelope announced, clicking away at her computer before continuing. “It says here that Reid was involved in a high-speed chase.”

“What?” I choked out, my voice coming out several pitches higher than usual. “Spencer hardly ever drives.” I could feel my stomach begin to churn, bile threatening to force its way up my esophagus. This isn’t right, I wanted to scream. Our Spencer would never get himself involved in something that would put himself or others at risk.

“None of this sounds like him,” Penelope whispered, her thoughts mimicking my own. “It says he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap and that he was really confused. According to the arresting officer, he was really high on something.”

Unity, service, respect; ten years sober. All down the fucking drain.

I shot up from my seat, bolting down the walkway and into the bathroom. I immediately fell to my knees, barely managing to push my hair out of the way before retching into the toilet bowl. I continued like this for several minutes, only pausing momentarily when I felt large, soothing hands running up and down my back. Soft murmurings of reassurance alerted me to the fact that it was Luke who was sitting with me. I let out a strained ‘thank you’ before another wave of nausea hit me, rendering me speechless. Luke held my hair back, never once leaving my side.

When I had thrown up the entirety of my breakfast and all I could do was dry heave, I slumped back against the wall, relishing in how cool it felt against my flushed skin. A stretch of silence passed before he decided to break it.

“That was an extreme reaction,” Luke pointed out, still sitting in the floor with his legs crisscrossed. I noticed how closely he was watching me, his eyes focused on reading my expressions. He was profiling me, that much was obvious. It was an unspoken rule between us all that we would never profile one another, but any fight I had left in me had long since dissipated.

“He worked so hard to get clean, Luke. I wasn’t around when it happened, but he told me about it. He was so proud of himself,” I whispered. My throat was now raw and my voice came out more than a little bit hoarse.

Luke’s eyebrows came together, confusion clear on his face.

“Get clean? What are you talking about?”

I let out a shuddery breath. It felt wrong to divulge information on Spencer’s personal life; like I was betraying his trust. Given the circumstance, I supposed he wouldn’t mind, but it still felt treacherous and left a bad taste in my mouth. Sorry, Spence.

“Ten years ago, Reid was kidnapped by an unsub with DID. He kept him in a remote cabin for several days, alternating between beating him senseless and shooting him full of so much hydromorphone that he couldn’t remember his own name. At one point, he even,” I trailed off, hot tears spilling out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. Luke took my hand in his in an act of reassurance, his way of telling me not to rush. Luke hadn’t been with us for long, and our interactions thus far hadn’t gone much farther than conversations about work. Seeing the way he was offering himself up to me as a confidant and shoulder to cry on made me feel guilty for ever having written him off.

Thank God for Luke Alvez.

After a long pause, I managed to continue. “Spencer ended up having a seizure and he died for several minutes. The unsub’s more benevolent personality, Tobias, was able to resuscitate him. Eventually Spencer was able to take him down, but the trauma mixed with the exposure to such a highly addictive drug led to him developing a dependence on it.”

Luke swore and ran a hand through his hair.

“I never would’ve guessed it. The kid carries himself so well.”

A small, fond smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

“He’s amazing, really. He detoxed all by himself and started going to NA meetings. This past October marked ten years. We celebrated by going to one of those really fancy museums he likes and he insisted on taking the guided tour so that he could see how many errors the guide would make,” I let out a light laugh at the memory. “Every time they’d get something wrong, he’d lean down whisper the correct information so that only I could hear it. I don’t think I’d ever seen him that happy,” I reminisced, allowing myself to forget about the current situation for the tiniest of moments. I wondered if I’d ever get to experience a day like that with Spencer ever again.

“You two are close, I take it?”

I nodded. Luke had fit in with the group so seamlessly that I had forgotten that he had only been with us for a short time. He didn’t really know the dynamics of everything yet.

“He’s my best friend.”

Luke hummed, and I could feel his eyes looking at me inquisitively.

“And that boyfriend of yours, he doesn’t mind?” Okay, maybe Luke was a little bit more perceptive than he let on.

Gavin and I had begun dating at the end of my first year with the BAU. He and I had meet in the most cliché of ways; bumping into each other in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Gavin was more than a little bit handsome, but what had reeled me in had been the way he taken one look at the box of cereal in my cart and immediately scrunched his nose up in disgust.

“Plain Cheerios? Are you some sort of masochist, or something?” he had asked, a playful lilt to his voice. Normally, if a strange man had approached me in public, I would’ve been quick to express my disinterest. If my job had taught me anything, it was that a woman being approached by a strange man was a recipe for trouble. But something about him seemed wholly unthreatening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his forwardness, raising an eyebrow at him.

“As if your choice is any better. Lucky Charms? What are you, six?”

“Don’t even go there. Lucky Charms are magically delicious, thank you very much,” he sniffed, feigning superiority. “And if we’re touching on the subject of age, the only person I know that eats plain Cheerios is my eighty-six-year-old grandmother. You look a bit young to be worrying about heart health, and I refuse to believe that you actually enjoy the taste, so what gives?”

“First of all, I find it concerning that you are so familiar with cereal slogans,” I breezed, leaning against my shopping cart. “Second, I am curious; do you make it a habit to harass people about their cereal preferences?”

“Only if they’re cute.”

And that had been that. Several dates later he had asked me to be his girlfriend over a dinner he had attempted to make himself. I said yes and he kissed me, nearly knocking over his plate of burnt chicken parmesan in the process.

“We, uh, have an understanding. He knows that Spencer and I are just good friends.”

Gavin and I did have an understanding, but it wasn’t a very solid one. In fact, I was sure that he damn near despised Spencer’s very existence. He had done a good job at hiding it for a while, but after coming home one night from an impromptu movie night with Spencer, he had revealed to me that he had a jealous streak a mile long. I reassured him that there was absolutely nothing that he needed to worry about, but I could tell he didn’t believe a word of it. Gavin had out flat demanded that I cut all ties with Spencer, and I had laughed in his face.

“I’m not the kind of girl that likes to be told what to do. Either you learn to live with him being a part of my life, or you can find someone else to boss around, because I can tell you right now, that won’t fly with me.”

My threat had proven to be effective, and he had apologized, and that had been the end of that. He still wasn’t fond of the idea that Spencer and I were such close friends, but he hadn’t tried to proposition me with any more ridiculous ultimatums.

“That’s good to hear,” Luke hummed, squeezing my hand before rising to his feet. I could tell that he didn’t necessarily buy into what I was saying, but I was thankful that he didn’t press it any further. “What do you say we go back out there. We’ve got to be getting close by now.”

I nodded and he helped me to my feet. I bent down to the faucet, swishing some water in my mouth before spitting it out.

When Luke and I returned to our seats, I was immediately aware of the way Rossi and Emily were eyeing me; like I was a delicate thing that needed to be handled with kid gloves.

I absolutely hated it.

“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again,” I said, before turning my attention back to the video call and saying, “so, what did we miss?”

--

The police station was surprisingly small. The hallways were narrow and the light bulbs above me gave off an almost green tint, casting an eerie glow on the place. The sounds of disgruntled detainees calling out drifted through the hallways, sounding akin to the moaning of a ghost. My eyes darted around constantly as we walked, the uneasy feeling in my stomach growing with every step we took towards the heart of the precinct.

“Thank you for calling us.” Emily’s words were directed at the police officer, Chief Castenada, who was leading us down the hall. He was a short man with graying hair and a seemingly permanent frown etched into his face. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that he wasn’t happy that four federal agents were in his jail.

“A U.S. fed in our custody isn’t something we see every day,” the man said, his tone entirely unfriendly. I grimaced.

“Have you gotten any of his tox screen panels back yet?” I prodded, quickening the pace of my strides until I was walking alongside him. He looked down at me like I was a pesky gnat that he wanted to bat away.

“No.”

Color me unsurprised.

“You’ll need to expedite that. We have cause to believe that Doctor Reid was drugged.”

“He was definitely high and driving like a bat out of Hell. Not to mention he had $20,000 worth of heroin in his possession,” he sneered, ceasing to walk and staring down at me with distaste. “Both of which put my officers at risk. You’re in our jurisdiction. Don’t forget that. The rules are different here.”

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back with some smart-assery of my own, but a hand at my elbow stopped me. I turned and saw that it was Luke, who nodded his head to the left of us. I looked in the direction he was referring to, and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

Just up ahead was a holding cell with several poorly constructed benches in the center of it. On the very first row of seats sat Spencer, who had seemingly retreated in to himself. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped pitifully around himself, much like you’d imagine a child might do to keep warm. Spencer’s clothes were tattered and dirty and a bandage adorned his right hand. His usually beautiful chestnut curls were flying around his head in a mess of tangles and dirt. Despite the fact that Spencer towered over most of us, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly small he looked.

Even as awful as he looked in his current state, a direct contradiction of the way he usually presented himself, I’d never been happier to lay my eyes on someone in my life.

My feet carried me forward before my brain had time to catch up. I closed the distance between me and the cell, pausing and taking a good, long look at him before allowing myself to speak. He hadn’t noticed me standing there yet. His gaze was instead trained on something at the other end of the room, his eyes red rimmed and glassy and his face completely slack.

“Spence?” I called out, the nickname falling from my lips like a prayer. In a way I suppose it was; a prayer that he was alright, that the horrible things Penelope had told us about were nothing but a horrible lie. At first, I was worried that he hadn’t heard me or that he was too out of his mind to even register the sound of my voice. Just when I opened my mouth to speak again, he turned his head in way that I would have described as comically slow if the situation hadn’t been so serious. The spacey look in his eyes told me that my prayers wouldn’t be answered.

Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, but his face remained completely blank, devoid of all expression. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, until it hit me like a ton of bricks; he had no clue who I was.

I wanted to be mad. I wanted to scream at him, to ask him how could he forget me, of all people. My anger was irrational and unfair, but I couldn’t help it. While I understood that it was no fault of his own, that the drugs coursing through his veins were to blame, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

I swallowed down the emotions that threatened to spill out, pushing them down into the depths of my being. I couldn’t let my emotional attachment hinder my judgment. I needed to be as vigilant as ever, no, more vigilant. The fate of my favorite person in the whole world depended on it.

“It’s me, Y/N,” I explained, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. “It’s good to see you, Spencer. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He watched me for a moment before standing and making his way to where I was leaning against the bars.

“Y/N,” Spencer murmured when he reached me, as if testing my name out to see how it rolled off of his tongue. His stare was still vacant, but having him in front of me after worrying about his wellbeing for the last five hours was more than enough for now. I’d take him however I could have him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, we came,” I murmured, my eyes raking over every inch of his body for any signs of distress. Other than the bandage on his hand, he seemed to be in one piece.

Rossi was quick to join me, coming to a stop at my left.

“We’re going to get you out of here, kid,” he reassured, his tone more serious than I’d ever heard it.

           “We need to work out some details with the locals, okay?” Emily said, waiting for a response but getting none.

           “Who was your contact down here?” Luke asked.

           Spencer was quicker to respond this time.

           “Rosa,” he mumbled as he grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it up. On his inner arm, the name Rosa Medina was written in what was undoubtably his own handwriting. Spencer was notorious around the office for having the worst handwriting. I like to blame it on the fact that he was a doctor, which always elicited a laugh from him. “I think she’s a doctor.”

           Luke pulled his phone out from his pocket, snapping a picture of the name.

           “Where did you meet her?”

           Spencer shook his head and a frown pulled down at the corner of his lips.

           “I… I don’t remember.”

           “If you saw her, would you remember her?”

           Spencer nodded in affirmation.

           “You’re missing time, aren’t you?” I asked, causing him to look at me once more. His brows furrowed together and he was nodding again, slightly surer of himself this time.

           “It’s peeking out. It’s coming in flashes.”

           “And you’ve been drugged?”

           I didn’t know it was possible for his face to fall any more, but the look of shame that manifested itself when he registered my words was absolutely heartbreaking.

           “Yeah, but I didn’t take it myself,” he insisted, a spark of life burning bright in the depths of his eyes. Somewhere in there, under the haze of narcotics, was the same Spencer that had fought tooth and nail for his sobriety all those years ago. My heart broke for him.

           “Of course, you didn’t, Spence. We know that,” I said, almost reaching out to touch him before thinking better of it. “We’re thinking it might be Scratch.”

           Just like before, when I had first spoken to him, absolutely no sign of recognition showed itself on his face.

           “Scratch,” he muttered detachedly, much the same as before.

           Luke’s phone rang then and he excused himself for a moment before stepping away. I looked to Rossi and Emily, who seemed to also be at a loss for words. The silence that filled the room was excruciating, and I once again started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry out in frustration. The whole situation was unfair in a way that I didn’t think was possible. I was a big believer in karma; put good in and get good out, or something like that. But now, standing outside of a holding cell that looked more like a dungeon than anything, I was ready to throw away that belief entirely.

Of all the people that I know, Spencer was the least deserving of something like this.

           Just when I began to consider ducking outside for a breath of fresh air, Luke returned.

           “Hey, the team sent this. Is this the doctor you met?” he asked, pointing to a picture of a woman he had pulled up on his phone. The woman was of Mexican descent, with short, choppy gray hair. She appeared to be middle aged, from what I could guess.

           Spencer stared at the picture before nodding.

           “Her alias is Rosa Medina and her real name is Nadi Ramos. Garcia tracked her to a motel just outside of town. Does that sound familiar?”

           Spencer’s brows furrowed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

           “No.”

           “Okay, we’ll need to take Castenada and his officers with us,” Emily announced, before turning and heading towards the door.

           “Do you want company here?” Rossi asked.

           Spencer seemed to take a moment to process before answering with an almost imperceptible nod. He turned his head and focused his gaze on me.

           “Can… Can you stay?”

           Rossi turned to face me too, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you okay with this?’ I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure that I could handle this; the this that I am referring to being a nearly catatonic Spencer Reid. I was used to the Spencer who regaled me with interesting tidbits of information whenever there was a lull in conversation. The Spencer that stood before me now was a shell of his former self, and that terrified me.

           “I’ll be fine here. Let me know if you guys find anything,” I told Rossi. He nodded once to me before enveloping me in a tight hug.

           “Resta forte mia piccolo colomba,” Rossi murmured in my ear. I hadn’t a clue what the phrase meant, but the words draped over me like a warm blanket. Suddenly the weight of the current situation didn’t seem so heavy, and I felt immensely thankful that a man like David Rossi was in my life.

           Rossi pressed his lips to the top of my head before releasing me. He gave one last, despairing look to Spencer before hurrying off after Luke and Emily. It could’ve been the light playing tricks on me, or maybe the exhaustion, but when Rossi turned away from us, I swear I saw tears welling in his eyes.

           And then there were two.

           I took glance at my watch for the first time all day, cringing when I saw the time to be 8:17PM. Quantico was an hour ahead, meaning Gavin was probably losing his shit wondering where I was. I sighed, fishing my phone out of my back pocket and turning it on.

           “Spence, I’m going to make a phone call really quick,” I murmured. He offered no reply, just as I had come to expect. He was watching me, standing stock still in the same place he had been the entire time. I moved to stand in the doorway, hopefully far enough away that he couldn’t hear me anymore.

           As soon as my phone booted up, a plethora of notifications came through. Seventeen missed calls and twenty-four unread text messages, to be exact. I decided to forgo reading the messages, instead pressing the return call button and tapping my foot anxiously against the floor. Gavin didn’t keep me waiting long, picking up on the very first ring.

           “About time you answer your goddamn phone,” he hissed out. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I even called your office phone and no one would answer that, either. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?”

           “I’m… In Mexico.”

           A long pause followed and I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught to begin.

           “You left the country without even bothering to tell me?” Gavin asked, his voice raising in volume. I could picture him now; probably sitting on our sofa, fists balled together and jaw clenched. “Would you like to enlighten me as to why you’re in Mexico?”

           I closed my eyes, frustration bubbling deep inside me. Today was arguably the shittiest day of my entire life, and I certainly didn’t need Gavin harping on about how I hadn’t been in touch. Honestly, informing him of my whereabouts had been the furthest thing from my mind.

           “It’s Spencer,” I began, trying to think of the proper way to word it all. “He got into some… trouble. We think he’s being framed by Scratch.”

           “Isn’t that the guy that just went after Tara’s family?”

           “Yeah, it is. He’s been laying low for the past few months, and I guess he was just building up to all of this. It’s really bad, Gav,” I whispered the last bit, hoping that Spencer couldn’t hear me. If he did, he made no move that indicated it. “He’s high out of his mind and can’t remember anything.”

           “How long will you guys be there?” Gavin asked, completely ignoring the fact that I mentioned Spencer at all. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying something I might regret. I understand that he doesn’t like the guy, but he could show some common decency and at least pretend.

           “I’m not entirely sure. Rossi, Emily, and Luke just headed out to go check on a lead. I don’t know how long that’ll take.”

           “Wait, so, where are you?”

           “I’m at the jail with Spencer, why?” I inquired, running my hand through my hair and absentmindedly combing out the knots that had formed. I was sure that I looked a right mess, but I couldn’t be too bothered to care.

           “Let me get this straight. They left you alone with a guy who is wasted on God knows what, not knowing how he’ll react to it?” A bitter laugh flowed through the phone speaker. “Sounds like you don’t exactly work with the smartest bunch. What if he tries to attack you or something?”

           I let his words hang in the air for a moment, unable to formulate a reply that wasn’t something like you’re being an absolute fucking dick bag right now. No, I was a grown woman and I was going to communicate like one, despite the fact that his ignorant reply was making me shake with rage.

           “The first thing I’m going to address is the fact that this is not some guy. We’re talking about my best friend and teammate, and his name is Spencer. Use it,” I said through gritted teeth. “The second thing is that he’s not some wild animal. He’s not going to try to come through the bars and pounce on me. What he’s going through right now is traumatic, and he doesn’t need to be left alone right now. Show some compassion.”

           “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry,” Gavin muttered. It was the most unapologetic apology I’d ever heard in my life, prompting me to roll my eyes. I don’t understand how I can love someone and want to throttle them simultaneously. “I’m just worried about you, is all. How are you holding up?”

           “I’m as good as can be expected,” I sighed, bringing my free hand up to rub at my eyes. “I’m just tired of watching this guy terrorize all of my friends. First, he takes Hotch from us, then he nearly kills Tara’s brother, and now this. I’m beginning to think we’ll never catch a break.”

           “I know you’re tired, baby. Just try to hang on a little bit longer. As much as I question some of their decisions, your team is good at what they do. You guys will catch him. I have faith in you.”

           There it is. That’s the Gavin that I fell in love with.

           “Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s been a long day and I needed to hear that.” I cast a glance back at Spencer, who was now staring down at his bandaged hand, an indiscernible expression on his face. He looked so lost, standing all alone in the grimy holding cell. The lights cast shadows on his face, making his already angular face look gaunt. The Spencer I knew was the human embodiment of light; filling up every room he was in with his delightfully idiosyncratic presence. The Spencer in the cell was so shrouded in darkness that the room seemed to be swallowing him whole, taking his brilliance and crushing it into smithereens.

“Gav, I think I need to get back in there.”

           “Yeah, alright. Just keep me in the loop this time, please. I don’t like not knowing where my girlfriend is.”

           “I’ll make sure to check in whenever I can,” I promised, before tacking on a, “love you.”

           “Love you, too.”

           I pocketed my phone with hands that shook, no longer from rage but from apprehension. I liked to think that I was good at my job. I had done well at the academy; not well enough to have graduated at the top of my class, but I did manage to be in the top ten. After lucking into the job of a lifetime, I had fully committed myself to learning to be the best profiler I could possibly be. Two years of piecing together the innerworkings of criminal minds had taught me more than I ever could have imagined about the human psyche. I had talked many a deranged psychopath down from the ledge, and I had saved more than a few lives along the way. Unfortunately, not all cases can end favorably. Those are the ones that taught me the most.

           For all that I learned, nothing could’ve prepared me to deal with the shell of a man that stood before me.

           I was standing in front of him now, fiddling nervously with my hands. When Spencer had originally told me about his battle with addiction, I had taken it upon myself to do some research of my own. I wanted to be able to identify the signs, God forbid he ever relapse. While conducting my research, I had read somewhere that the best way to support someone during a come down is by remaining positive and creating a calm, safe environment.

           I was currently the antithesis of calm, but for Spencer’s sake, I was going to do my best.

           I took a step forward and offered him a small smile.

           “I’ve never seen you in jeans and boots before,” I said. I was proud of myself when the words came out sounding relatively casual. “It’s a good look on you, but I have to admit I prefer the academic look. I suppose it’s the sapiosexual in me.”

           He gave no response, but the tinniest tug at the corner of his mouth told me that he found my comment amusing.

           I let my eyes drag over him again and I fixated on the bandage on his right hand, frowning.

           “Do you remember what happened to your hand?”

           Spencer raised his hand up, absentmindedly flipping it over and inspecting it.

           “I don’t know,” he murmured. Spencer’s usually high pitched voice came out gravely, no doubt a byproduct of dehydration related to the drugs. My eyes skimmed across the holding cell and I frowned when I saw no water fountain in sight.

           “M’ gonna go get you some water, okay?” I turned away and pivoted on my heel, taking one step before a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I spun around so fast I nearly caught whiplash.

           Spencer’s eyes were wide and full of panic, conveying more emotion than he’d had since we’d arrived. His eyebrows were drawn together as well, contorting his face into a pitiful expression.

           “Don’t go,” he rasped, his hand still firmly grasping my arm. “Please.”

           The hopelessness in his voice was like a dagger through my heart. I nodded fervently and placed my hand over his, prompting him to loosen his grip. He did, and I took his hand in both of mine. I rubbed my thumbs over his skin, haphazardly tracing patterns in an attempt to calm him.

           “Yeah, okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I soothed, bringing his hand up to my mouth and placing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I’ve got you, Spence. It’s all going to be okay.”

           The look of panic slowly washed away the longer we stood there. He held onto my hands like I was a lifeline, the only thing tethering him to the ground. While I longed for nothing more than to really embrace him, to pull all of him into my arms and hold on for dear life, the bars that separated us inhibited me from doing so. So instead I just relished in the feel of his hand intertwined with my own.

           It would have to be enough for now.

--

           Nadi Ramos was dead.

           I didn’t have to ask Emily to know that the situation had gone from bad to absolutely fucking terrible. We knew Scratch was a horrendous individual; that much had been proved by his preferred modus operandi. We also knew that he had become fixated on taking down each of us one by one. He’d tried twice with Hotch, even going as far as to target his son, resulting in the two of them joining WITSEC for their own safety. The next blow had come when he had set his sights on Tara, or, more specifically, her brother. We’d gotten lucky with that one, having located and freed her brother just in the nick of time. After the incident with Tara’s brother, we all expected the next attack to come in quick succession. When several months passed with no sign of Scratch, we all became terribly on edge. No one was saying it, but we all were waiting to see which one of us would be next, crossing our fingers and hoping it wouldn’t be us.

           I knew that none of us were exempt from Scratch’s wrath, but for some reason, I’d never imagined him targeting Spencer.

           And target him he fucking did.

           “We know you didn’t do this,” Emily spoke for the group, knowing good and well that we were all on the same page.

           “How did it happen?” Spencer’s back was to us. His shoulders were slumped and his face downturned.

           “She was stabbed multiple times. It looked personal,” Luke answered, his voice low and careful. It was obvious to us all that he was being extra careful with his wording, making sure to broach the subject carefully. We all knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Spencer was innocent; but that didn’t mean that Spencer did.

           Chief Castenada trudged into the holding cell, the portrait of all things cranky and unpleasant. His presence acted as a proverbial storm cloud on an already shitty day.

           “We got the results of your blood work. There’s cocaine and heroin in your system.”

           “What else?” Emily asked, causing Castenada to give her a confused look.

           “He was in possession of cocaine and heroin when he was arrested. I found what I needed.”

           I felt myself bristle and before I knew it, my mouth was open and I was spouting out pure venom.

           “Thanks so much for doing the bare minimum, but we’re going to need a full tox screen panel. We’re looking for scopolamine.”

           Emily’s eyes cut over to me and if I hadn’t been fighting on Spencer’s behalf, I would’ve withered under the weight of the shut the fuck up look she gave me. Instead, I continued on, silently praying I’d still have a job after today.

           “It’ll take longer, but we need it,” I explained in what I hoped was a slightly more accommodating tone. Castenada gave a curt nod in reply before exiting the room, grumbling something in Spanish that had Luke and Emily shooting daggers at his retreating figure.

           “Do I want to know?”

           Luke shook his head, shooting a small smile in my direction.

           “Let’s just say he’s not your biggest fan, and we’ll leave it at that,” he offered, before straightening out his expression and turning back to Spencer. “You were given a speed ball. The opiates block the dopamine in your brain. That’s why things go from clear to hazy. The combination of the drugs causes a dissociative state and explains the memory loss. Are you coming down now?”

           “I think so,” Spencer said. His cadence wasn’t as slow as it had been earlier, which was a relief.

           “Do you think you could do a cognitive interview?” Emily’s voice was hopeful, and if Spencer was one thing, it was a people pleaser. It was obvious that he was overwhelmed; I had taken note of the fact that he was displaying one of his nervous ticks. Spencer was touching the pad of his thumb on the tips of his other fingers in rapid succession. Despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded his head in agreeance.

           “I’ll try.”

           Rossi took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to hold up the plastic bag in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at it inquisitively. There were five vials of a murky, dark brown liquid in the bag.

           “There were five of these in your bag at the motel. Do you recognize them?”

           Spencer’s eyes zeroed in on the bag and its contents, his brows furrowing. It wasn’t long until a look of partial recognition flashed across his face. It was so faint that if he hadn’t been in a room of profilers, it would’ve gone unnoticed.

           “What is it?” I asked from my place at his side. He’d been somewhat clingy since the incident that had transpired while everyone was at the motel, gravitating towards me as soon as we all had been granted entrance to the holding cell. I knew that he needed familiarity right now; he was in a very vulnerable state and he needed something that made him feel safe and secure.

           Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I had realized what he was doing, that I was that thing that made him feel safe and secure.

Spencer opened his mouth once before closing it, as if trying to put his thoughts into words was difficult. He did this a few more times before settling on,

“Whatever’s in those vials, I was giving it to my mom,” he said, his eyes darting around the room as he spoke. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

           “I’ll have them run it through the lab,” Rossi said, before leaving and heading towards the direction in which Castenada had retreated.

           Emily and Luke were quick to hop into a rushed conversation, leaving only Spencer and I still in the cell. I looked up at him, at the way his forehead creased as he bit his lip in quiet contemplation.

           “Are you sure you’re ready for a cognitive? I know the effects may be wearing off, but you’re gonna be cloudy for a while. If you don’t want to do it now, all you have to do is say the word,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so that only he could hear it. “I can tell that you’re a bit overwhelmed, and that’s okay.”

           Spencer’s response came in the form of a shrug of his shoulders.

           “I want to try, because I know it’s important. I just don’t know that it will be of much help,” he replied, casting his eyes down to me.

           “Yes, it is important, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ll figure this out even if you can’t remember it all right now.”

           Spencer nodded once before running his tongue across his chapped bottom lip.

           “I don’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill her,” he whispered, barely audible. Even though his words were quiet, I could hear the desperation in them; almost as if he was begging me to believe them, begging himself to believe them.

           I made the irrational decision then to throw professionalism aside and wrap both of my arms around his torso, my grip tight and assured. Spencer’s aversion to touch was common knowledge amongst us all, but for some reason that never seemed to apply to me, and I could see in his eyes that the way we were all treating him like he was fragile was wounding him more than he would ever admit. I hoped to remedy that with my embrace, and the speed in which he reciprocated was so fast that I was certain he was thankful. He wrapped his injured hand around my waist, the other finding purchase in my hair. I felt his chest move as he let out a shuddering breath.

           “I know you didn’t, Spence. Everyone on the team knows you didn’t,” I reassured him, my words muffled as my face was pressed against his chest. “And we’re not going to stop until everyone else knows it, too.”

           I was well aware that our embrace had garnered the attention of our teammates, but Spencer’s hold on me hadn’t faltered in the slightest, so I didn’t let mine either. Instead, I gripped the fabric of his flannel shirt tighter in my hands.

--

           When Emily exited the room in which they had conducted the cognitive interview, the look on her face was grim. I visibly cringed at the sight as I felt the sliver of hope that I had left die a miserable death.

           We are so beyond fucked.

           “How’s he doing?” Rossi asked, obviously taking note of the distress on Emily’s face.

           “He’s made some breakthroughs, but I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be,” she sighed, running a hand through her jet-black hair. When none of us spoke, Emily’s eyes flitted around, finally noticing that our expressions were a direct reflection of her own. “What is it?”

           “They just charged Reid with the murder of Nadi Ramos.”

           Hearing it said aloud wasn’t any easier the second time.

--

           While the rest of us had taken it upon ourselves to lean against the cement walls, Luke had begun pacing down the short hallway. After about ten minutes of unbearable silence, he decided he’d had enough.

           “We can’t get him out of here, can we?” he finally spoke, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

           “I don’t know how.”

           “He didn’t kill her,” I reiterated, speaking more to myself than the three of them.

           “If all I had to go on was the evidence, I would swear he did,” Rossi sighed. I knew he was right; Spencer’s personal belongings were all over the hotel room, which was about as incriminating as you could get. “But knowing Reid, hearing the cognitive…”

           “Yes, he said there was another person in that motel room, but,” Emily pressed play on the audio recording, and her voice proceeded to flow through the speakers.

           “Who has the knife? Who is stabbing Rosa?”

           “I don’t know. It’s in my hand.”

           Emily pressed the power button and the screen went black.

           “Right now, this is just more evidence against him.”

           “So, what do we do now? Do we just sit and twiddle our thumbs until the consulate agrees to the extradition?” I asked. “There’s got to be more we can do. We can’t let them take him to jail, he won’t survive in there.”

           “I called in some help from IRT. Clara Seger and Matt Simmons will be arriving at any moment,” Emily said, checking her phone after hearing it ping. “In fact, that would be them. They’re here.”

           I breathed a sigh of relief as we all fell into step beside Emily. Having people from other areas of expertise that are willing to help is a good thing. Maybe they’ll be able to see something that we didn’t.

--

           “We come bearing good news,” I announced, leading the group as we all entered the holding cell. Spencer was quick to turn around and the corners of his lips pulled upwards as he set his sights on all of us. “Back up is here.”

           “Hey Spencer,” Matt greeted, offering up a small smile before crossing his arms across his chest.

           “Hey,” Spencer replied, moving to stand up from his spot on the bench. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but he was doing much better than he was when we had arrived. “Thank you for coming.”

           “Yeah, of course. Jack and me are finishing up a case in Costa Rica, so we hopped on a commercial plane to get here,” Clara explained.

           “We’re trying to stop you transfer to El Diablo.”

           Spencer’s eyes darted over to me and he swallowed hard before speaking.

           “Do you think it’s possible?” Hearing the hope in his voice tugged at my heart strings. The way that he could manage to stay optimistic at time like this was a true testament to his character.

           “Yes,” Clara began. “Lab reports on the vials came back and some of what was in there hasn’t been approved by the FDA, but there aren’t any illegal substances.”

           “That’s great news,” I sighed, letting out the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

           “Is there anything else you remember about your time here?”

           “I remember what happened to the vials at home. My mom threw most of them out.”

           “So, that’s why you were here. To get more,” Clara said in an attempt to clarify.

           “It must be,” Spencer murmured, shuffling anxiously from one foot to the other.

           “Well, you’re off the hook for that. There’s no contraband involved,” Matt announced. Okay, this is good. One less thing to worry about.

           “Yeah, but we’re still looking at the planted drug and the murder charges, which could keep you here for a long time.”

           “Can we do anything to delay the transfer?” I wondered aloud. Clara took into account what I said and sighed, before turning towards Spencer once again.

           “You said that you met Nadi, who calls herself Rosa, in Houston. Why didn’t she just give you the vials in the U.S.?”

           “I don’t know,” Spencer said, running his uninjured hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but she helped us and I trusted her. I was right to. I still believe that.”

           “Well, she convinced you to cross the border multiple times. She had you risk your life,” Matt argued.

           “Because she must have something to lose, too,” I mumbled, eliciting a series of fervent nods from Clara. “Family, maybe?”

           “We need to know more about her,” Clara said.

           And then, something glorious happened. It was like a switch had flipped inside of Spencer’s head, and all of the sudden the lights were back on. I could tell that he had been struck with an idea, and it was a wonderous sight to behold.

           “What was in those vials?” Spencer asked, only solidifying my observation.

           Matt produced a paper with the lab results and began reading off the results.

           “There are so nootropic compounds like Ampalex, uh, but also some more natural stuff; coral calcium, jimson weed, coconut oil, a variety of vitamins. B12, D3-”

           “Where are we right now?” Spencer interjected.

           “Matamoros, Northern Mexico.”

           “Jimson weed, otherwise known as the Devil’s Snare, originated in Mexico but its natural growing region is further north or south of the border,” Spencer said, his words flowing out rapidly. I felt my heart soar and I didn’t even try to suppress the smile that fought its way to my face.

           “Boy Genius is back,” I announced, and for just a moment, the mood in the room lightened for the first time all day.

           “So, if it isn’t from here, then were did she get it?” Clara asked.

           “Let me get Garcia on,” Emily murmured, dialing the number and tapping her foot as it rang. On the third ring, Penelope’s bright and cheerful voice filled the room, a sunbeam shining through on a cloudy day.

           “Please tell me you’re calling to tell me some good news.”

           “Garcia, I have some questions for you.”

           “Hey, Penelope,” Matt greeted, earning a pleasantly surprised gasp from the woman on the other end.

           “Oh my God, it’s the dulcet tones of Matt Simmons,” Penelope gushed. “Are you there to save the day?”

           “I’m trying. Clara’s here, too.” A relieved sigh floated through the speakers.

           “Knowing we have you guys as backup is providing me some much-needed hope, and I work better this way.”

           “Hey, lady,” Clara greeted. “We’re trying to catch up on a few things. Where is Nadi Ramos from?” Before Clara even managed to finish her sentence, the sound of Garcia’s acrylic nails tapping away at her keyboard could be heard.

           “Mm she lives with her family just north of Matamoros.”

           “That must be where she got the jimson weed,” Emily pointed out.

           “What’s weird in she crosses the border, like, a lot.”

           “Why?”

           “Well, she works in Houston at that clinic, but she also helps at a low-income healthcare center. I can’t find a visa on her, which is double weird. And, in finishing the weird trifecta, there’s a social security number on her W2 form.”

           “Social security? She’s an American citizen?” I asked. Matt confirmed my suspicions with a nod of his head.

           “Yeah, she had dual citizenship. She was born in Houston, and her family had to move back to Mexico. She lives with them and she works in the U.S.”

           “This changes everything. We need to talk to the consulate,” Emily stated.

           Just as things were beginning to look up, Chief Castenada decided to grace us with his presence once more; and this time, he had an entourage.

           “It’s time for his transfer,” Castenada announced, looking pointedly in my direction.

           “We’ve had a break in the case,” Emily argued, shaking her head at him. “The victim was also American, and that calls for extradition.”

           Castenada merely shrugged before walking past us all.

           “I’ve got orders, sorry,” he muttered, making Gavin’s apology from earlier in the day sound heartfelt in comparison. Castenada wasted no time in beginning to place handcuffs on Spencer, locking them in place with a definitive click. Spencer and I shared a look of panic before both of us looked towards Emily in a silent plea.

           One of the men roughly grabbed Spencer by the arm and led him from the room. I watched in horror as they led him away, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I barely registered the fact that Emily was now on the phone. I just stood there, staring blankly at the entrance to the cell.

           “With the victim having dual citizenship, we now have concurrent jurisdiction. It was my understanding that the official order to extradite SSA Spencer Reid would be evaluated,” Emily damn near snarled into the phone. She paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other line, before a look of relief washed over her face. “I understand, thank you.” She promptly hung up the phone before turning to face Luke. “They’re taking it to their brass. Go get him.”

           Luke took off in a rush, not needing to be told twice.

           I only wished I could be there to see the look on Castenada’s face.

--

           “We’re working on all channels here. Matt Cruz is on with the consulate right now. We could get an immediate extradition, but it’s just the beginning,” Emily explained, her voice stern.

           Spencer regarded her with a weary expression. The drug induced haze had finally lifted, leaving him painfully aware of how dire the situation was.

           “I really screwed up and I’m so sorry,” he choked out, resulting in a crack forming in Emily’s hard exterior. I couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t easy to stay mad at Spencer Reid. Spencer’s eyes were like kryptonite to most; big and brown and full of emotion. I’m sure if you searched ‘puppy dog eyes’ in the dictionary, a picture of Spencer Reid would be found in example.

           “It was for the right reason.”

           “I can’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill anyone.” It was obvious in the way that he kept repeating the words that he was desperate for us to believe him. No amount of calm reassurance from us could quell the voice in his head that was surely telling him that we thought him guilty.

           “We do, too.”

           Clara was first to enter the cell, immediately followed by Matt.

           “Hey, they approved the extradition,” Clara announced, smiling brightly at the three of us.

           “Effective immediately,” Matt added on.

           We all exchanged relieved smiles before Matt and Clara led Spencer from the cell. Emily and I were quick to follow, right on Matt’s heels when we were stopped by Castenada.

           “I must point out that I feel like justice isn’t exactly being served with this move.”

           I pursed my lips together. In the short time we had been in Mexico, my feelings towards the man had grown from distaste to almost a full-blown hatred. That being said, I couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. If Spencer hadn’t been a federal agent, he wouldn’t be granted the privilege of the extradition. Nor would he be allowed to fly home with us. I hated to admit it, but Castenada made a valid point.

           “I understand, but I can assure you that this has gone to the highest ranks and there will be a full investigation,” Emily reassured him.

           “Thank you for working with us,” I offered in an attempt to smooth over the rift I had created earlier. Now that my judgement wasn’t so clouded by my need to defend Spencer, I could see the error of my ways. I hadn’t been the most professional.

           Castenada nodded once in my direction before turning his attention back to Emily.

           “For our reports, I would like to have the recording of that cognitive interview.”

           I felt my blood run cold. That interview would just add to the list of things that could be used against Spencer in court. He had openly admitted to holding the murder weapon in his own hands, an admission that would surely earn him twenty to life.

           We cannot give him that recording.

           Emily seemed to be on the same page as I was.

           “I didn’t record it.”

           Castenada’s face contorted into an ugly frown.

           “But that was our agreement,” he squawked angrily.

           “I determined he was still under the influence. Anything he said wouldn’t have clarified matters.”

           Castenada’s gaze never faltered, eyeing Emily in an attempt to discern if she was giving him the run around. Luckily, Castenada was unable to find a hint of dishonesty on Emily’s face, and he nodded in resignation.

           Years of profiling will teach you how to control your micro expressions.

           “You’re committed agents. And I’ve worked with the IRT before. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

           “We do. I promise,” I stated, my voice giving off more confidence than I felt. Yes, I thought to myself, there’s no doubt that we’re good at what we do.

           But so is Scratch.

--

           All was quiet on the jet, the steady thrum of the engine being the only sound that could be heard. Rossi had been the only one able to fall asleep, something that I would be sure to tease him about later. Next to Rossi sat Emily, who had busied herself with flipping through Spencer’s arresting report. Clara and Matt sat across from them, engulfed in their own hushed conversation.

           Spencer had opted to sit on the couch, but he didn’t allow himself to sprawl out like he normally would have done. He was visibly exhausted, wiping at his eyes frequently in an attempt to keep the fatigue at bay. It was almost like he was punishing himself; like he didn’t feel he deserved the solace that sleep would bring.

           “You should go talk to him. See if you can’t get him to lay down,” Luke whispered encouragingly from his seat beside mine.

           “I have no idea what to say to him,” I confessed. I tore my gaze away from Spencer and turned my attention to Luke. “There’s nothing I can say that will make this any better.”

           “You’re not wrong about that, but maybe just letting him know you’re here for him will help. Just go and sit with him, I’m sure he could use a friend right now.”

           Luke was right. I let out a dramatic sigh before shooting Luke a pointed look.

           “Since when did you get so insightful?”

           A grin stretched its way across his face.

           “Always have been, sweetness. It’s part of my charm. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

           “And on that note, I’ll be going,” I announced, standing up from my seat and walking the short distance to the couch. Luke’s chuckles sounded off behind me and I couldn’t help but smile; note to self, make more of an effort to get to know Luke Alvez.

I approached slowly, hoping not to startle him as he seemed to be lost in his own world. He didn’t notice me until I came to a stop in front of the couch. Spencer’s head shot up suddenly, the worry on his face melting away to form a small smile.

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile tenfold. “You looked like you could use some company. Do you mind if I sit?”

Spencer gave me a soft smile and scooted over, patting at the space next to him. I lowered myself onto the couch, angling my body so it was facing him.

“You’re tired,” I observed, leaning back into the soft cushions. Spencer shrugged in reply, opening his mouth to argue, only for a yawn to slip out. I let out a light laugh. “Don’t even try to argue. There’s no telling how long you’ve been up. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly met mine and I felt almost paralyzed when I saw the sheer vulnerability in them.

“Researchers from the University of Cardiff conducted a two-part study looking at whether people’s daily frustration or fulfilment of their psychological needs, such as feeling autonomous or competent, affects their dreams. The results from the first study showed that people who were frustrated with their daily situation tended to have recurring dreams in which they were falling, failing or being attacked,” he rasped out, his words jumbling together as they fell from his mouth in rapid succession. “The lead author on the study concluded that negative dream emotions may directly result from distressing dream events, and might represent the psyche’s attempt to process and make sense of particularly psychologically challenging waking experiences.”

“And you’re worried your dreams will reflect what happened today.”

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek before nodding in affirmation.

“I can’t promise you that you won’t dream about those things,” I began, my voice coming out soft. “But I can tell you that sleep deprivation can cause lots of very unfortunate symptoms like impaired memory, reduced physical strength, and inability to concentrate. Do you know how I know those things?”

A light flush dusted over the tops of his cheeks.

“Probably because I’ve made it a habit to bore you with my information dumps.”

I shook my head adamantly, reaching a hand up and ruffling up his hair. He batted my hand away, ducking his head to try and hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Never a bore, Spence. But yes, I know those things because of you and that remarkable brain of yours. And we’re going to need that remarkable brain in tip top shape if we want to get you out of this mess, understood?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he relented.

I patted a hand on my lap, an invitation for him to use me as a pillow. He seemed hesitant, eyes flitting from my face before going back down to my lap.

“Don’t act shy around me, Pretty Boy. I know better than anyone that you’re a secret cuddle bug,” I teased, earning a snort from the man next to me.

“Am not,” he harrumphed, before deciding to take me up on my offer. He laid his head down on my lap before stretching his legs out across the expanse of the couch. My heart lurched pitifully when he nuzzled his head into my leg before letting out a loud sigh.

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, voice thick with emotion. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, casting tiny shadows on his face. I smiled at the sight and began carding my hands through his hair.

“No need to thank me,” I murmured, raking my nails against his scalp and eliciting a pleased hum from him. “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? We’re going to get you out of this. I know we will. And don’t worry about your mom, either; I’m going to check on your mom every day, I promise.”

Spencer’s breathing stuttered at the mention of Diana, and I worried I had crossed a line. He stayed silent for a moment, before moving his hand up and squeezing my knee.

“You’re entirely too good to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. That’s what friends are for.”

No more words were exchanged, and within five minutes Spencer’s breathing evened out and he was asleep.

--

Several hours later, we were all filing out of the elevator and into the bullpen. I shivered slightly as the cool air hit my bare arms, but I tried not to show my discomfort. I’d shrugged off my sweater and offered it to Spencer the moment we stepped off the jet, draping it across his cuffed hands in an attempt to conceal them. Spencer had thanked me with a pitiful smile and I returned the sentiment, blinking several times to try and stifle the tears pooling in my eyes.

JJ was the first to greet him, with Stephen, Tara and Penelope following closely behind. I watched on for a moment before my attention was pulled elsewhere. Stephen’s phone had rung, prompting him to slip away from the group and retreat further down the hall. I furrowed my brow at this, taking advantage of my colleagues’ distraction as I wandered towards Stephen. I strained to hear his whispered words, but just as soon as I neared, he ended the call.

“What was that about?” I asked quietly. The look on his face told me that the news couldn’t be good, and I didn’t want to ruin the reunion going on just down the hall. They all deserved a few moments of relief.

Stephen let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair before speaking.

“I, uh, just got a call. Reid isn’t eligible for the bureau’s legal assistance.”

Stephen’s words sent a jolt of white-hot dread through me. “How is that even possible?”            “Spencer went without being briefed, and he wasn’t in Mexico on government business. They refuse to represent him.”

I let my wary eyes drift down the hall, towards the group of wonderful misfits that I had grown to think of as family;

Penelope, whose optimism never wavered, even in the face of the absolute worst that the world had to offer.

JJ, a devoted mother with a heart of gold and a fierceness that inspired me every single day.

Tara, one of the most intelligent and caring women I had ever had the privilege to know.

Rossi, a father figure to all with enough wisdom to create a legacy that would inspire generations of profilers to be.

Emily, a fearless leader whom I trusted with my life and would follow into battle without question.

Luke, a newcomer who took special care to comfort me when I was at my worst.

Spencer, a man too remarkable to even try to describe with words. A man that anyone of us would defend until our very last breath.

That undeniable truth gave birth to the tiny sliver of hope growing inside of me. Spencer Reid was innocent, and we are all hellbent on proving it.

I nodded once in affirmation, more to myself than to Stephen, before allowing myself to meet his gaze.

“We’re on our own.”

And if anyone could pull this off, it was this team. My team.

There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality.

           -Storm Constantine

[asphalt-cocktail]

Finding my way back

Summary: Nearly a decade after you and John break up you manage to find your way back to him.

A/N: Hello my dears! So I wrote this for Beatle and Queen secret santa exchange! Apologies it’s not heavily Christmas/holiday themed; it does take place during winter so I hope that counts for something. I hope you enjoy your fic as much as i enjoyed writing it @sweetrosetta-martin​! I wrote this after I heard the song Green Papaya by Lianne La Havas which makes me feel some type of way. Also shout out to @casafrass​ and @moodysunflowergirl​ for putting this together! Thank you for all your hard work and organization for this! 

Pairing: John Lennon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Okay friends, we’ve got a bit of everything in here! It’s got some mild illusions to smut and steamy smooches, some angst, some fluff, pinning, longing, break ups, cigarettes, alcohol (I think), swearing, we’ve got Teddy boy!John and 70s!John. But no actual smut. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Your heart ached in your chest as you sat in front of John, “What do you mean we can’t see each other anymore?” Your voice cracked with emotion.

John watched your watery eyes from behind his glasses and let out a deep sigh, “I’m going to be touring a lot and Brian wants us to move to London, so I just…” His own voice cracked with emotion, “So I just don’t think we should keep seeing each other.” He looked away unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“But we survived Germany!” You protested back, “It will be okay, I can visit you when you have shows nearby,” You wanted this to work, being with John felt like home. You sniffed, “You know like wait backstage with flowers and everything.” You said and began to rub your stinging eyes.

You were right, the two of you had survived Germany, but it was only because it lasted a few short months and your relationship was open out of respect for the two of you; John didn’t know how long this Beatles thing was going to last and from the looks of it, it was going to last quite a while. John rubbed the tears from behind his glasses, smudging his finger along the lenses and clouding the vision of your perfect face. He squeezed your hand tightly in his own, “It’ll be fine I promise,” He said pausing to kiss your knuckles, “I love you [Y/N] I really do, and if it’s meant to be we will be together again.” He gave you one last chaste kiss; your faces were wet from tear and it was sad and short lived. You embraced him tightly inhaling the scent of cigarettes, mint gun, and a smell that was so distinctly John before finally letting him go to part ways.

The two of you exchanged letters for the first few months of his first tour, but at this point it has been so long that you didn’t remember who stopped writing who and honestly, why did it matter? John was constantly an aching thought in the back of your mind, and you had constant reminders of him from posters to news articles, to full size cardboard cut outs that sat in record stores. It seemed everywhere you turned you saw him which only increased the yearning.

It took several months but you finally found yourself back in a routine that didn’t include John, it was almost like when he went to Germany except this time he wasn’t coming back for good. You finished up school, found a job working in marketing, and had several shitty boyfriends before you found yourself in New York city working in the marketing division of a fashion brand and met Noah. He was nice, but he wasn’t John.

He didn’t smoke cigarettes, or wear glasses, and couldn’t understand art. But he was here, and the sex was pretty okay.

Noah was nice and he made you a pot of coffee every morning he slept over and didn’t try to pry too far into your personal life. All around you didn’t have any qualms with him; it just didn’t feel complete.

The scent of freshly roasted coffee drifted through your home as you woke up with your alarm clock blaring in your ears. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and rolled out of bed. Noah was busying himself in the kitchen, you should just ask him to move in at this point. “Did you get the paper?” You asked sitting down at the table.

“On the counter, love.” He answered before grabbing it and sliding it across the table towards you. Much to your surprise in big bold letters on the front page “PAUL SPLITS THE BEATLES” were plastered across it. Naturally a picture of the doe-eyed man you once called a friend accompanied it as well as a smaller picture of the group.

“Fucking Christ.” You mumbled to yourself and turned the page, hoping to find something else to read, some couple getting married or some advice column, but no, your eyes continued to draw themselves back to the fab four and specifically John. He looked wildly different now; long hair, glasses, eccentric wardrobe all made him look almost unfamiliar

You finally gave in and read the article; from what you observed in the news and on television tensions were high between the four and it seemed as though fame had gotten the best of them, “Crazy, right?” Noah asked handing you a cup of coffee, “Who would have thought? It looked like they were going to be together forever. But get your riches and split I guess, yeah?”

A sour feeling filled your belly, John and Paul cared more about the Beatles than Noah could ever know. The idea of get rich and dip was ridiculous, wasn’t it? “I don’t think that is the case.” You mumbled before abruptly getting up to get ready for work, forgetting your morning coffee.

It had been almost a decade since you had last seen John, and a lot could have changed. He was no longer the tough teddy boy you had grown to love. His hair had grown out and he was with Yoko Ono now, from the looks of if they were essentially attached at the hip. A part of you hoped you and Noah would never achieve that level of need in your relationship.

Unfortunately, as months passed there seemed to be no other way to progress your and Noah’s relationship and one day he slept over and never left. You no longer had your own space to escape to or much alone time aside from when Noah came home an hour after you from work. You felt throttled and frankly didn’t like it, nor did you like Noah much anymore. It seemed like the right step though, after three years of dating; you could tell Noah craved monogamy.  

Your day at work was long and exhausting. All you could think of was your hour of peace and quiet before Noah came home and talked about his boring life at work. If you had to use a color to describe your life it would be grey, dull, boring, no vibrancy or excitement.

New York was full of bright vibrant colors and never slept; it was much livelier that than the cloudy northern United Kingdom city you once called home, but in the small apartment that you lived in there was constant monotony. Waking up, making coffee, going to work, coming home, reading and making dinner, going to sleep; only to repeat that for five days in a row and then sit around the house during the weekend, or leave to get groceries if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, Noah’s accountant friends would come over and talk your ear off about their corporate work life you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

Your mind was swimming with thoughts, mostly about your stagnant life as you navigated your way off the subway once you reached your stop and walked off. It was loud and cramped as everyone flooded off; you kept your head low and pushed your way through the crowd. A firm, but boney shoulder pushed into you causing your thoughts to flee and your brows furrowed as you looked up, “Watch it, asshole.” You mumbled under your breath and looked up before you froze.

Your eyes locked with a pair of eyes that were all too familiar and all the breath in your body seemed to leave, “[Y/N]?” John asked you, seemingly just as shocked as you were.

Despite being in the subway station the world around you stopped. A few sputtering words came out to form an incoherent sentence as you were consumed with shock. Your body became ridged and you sharply exhaled before turning and continuing your short jaunt home.

That night you laid on your side and your mind was consumed with so many thoughts, mostly John if you were being honest. You’d thought you had long since blocked the ghost from your memory, but it appeared that seeing him caused a number of memories to rouse from the depths of your consciousness. You hated it. John Lennon was once again living in your head rent free.

Noah gripped your side and kissed along your shoulders and neck while his hand rubbed your hips and slowly began to wander upwards towards your breasts. The sudden touch caused you to jump, “Not tonight,” You mumbled trying to sound tired.

Noah let out a soft sigh before giving your shoulder one last kiss, “Sorry, you had a long day, love.” He said pulling you close against him and resting his head on your shoulder. As you pretended to sleep you laid in your bed and stared at the wall of darkness in your room.

When the hell did John come to New York?

Did he live nearby?

Was Yoko with him?

Questions swirled around in your mind; questions that would not get answered unless you actively sought out an answer.

As sleep consumed you, you dreamt of John.

The Reeperbahn had a smell you would never forget. You didn’t know cities could have distinct smells until you traveled to Germany to visit John for the first time since he had left Liverpool. It was a combination of pollution, beer, and a smell you had hoped to never figure out what caused it. From his letters this place seemed larger than life, and when you took your first steps off the train you saw it was.

John tackled you with a warm hug, he smelled like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, “You stink.” You grinned and laughed as he kissed your face all over.

“Our options are kind of limited, love.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to him as the two of you walked down the busy street.

He took you to a restaurant, you honestly hadn’t expected him to take you on a date especially with where you were and how little money he had. “Come on, I’ve got a show in two hours,” He grinned, excited to have you watch him play.

“And then we met this group of Germans, they’ll be at the show tonight. I know you’ll love them.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, “Stu is going with one of them, Astrid. She’s great too, her ma lets us shower at her place and makes us dinner sometimes.” You soaked in all the stories John had to share.

His life seemed so exciting here in Germany, but you could see how exhausted he was beginning to get, “You’ve got to hear how we sound now, Pete’s still shit, but Paul, George and I are really getting better.” He shifted in his seat and poked at his food, “I don’t know if Stu is going to stick with us much longer though; he’s been talking about going back to art school.”

That night you and John slept cramped together in his little bunk bed in the back room. You woke up to him rubbing your arm with the tips of his calloused fingers and he kissed your shoulder.

Rolling over you captured his lips in a soft kiss, he tasted of beer and cigarettes and he clung to you, holding you so close it almost hurt. Breaking the kiss, he began to pepper soft kisses along your jaw and neck, “I love you so much,” He said between heavy breaths.

“I love you too John.” You responded letting out a soft whimper as his fingers began to rub you through the cloth short wore to sleep.

With a gasp you shot up in bed, coated in a layer of sweat and looked around the still dark room, wide eyed. Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes as he woke up, “What’s wrong, hun?” He asked.

You gained control of your breathing once more and laid back down, still uncomfortably sweaty; “Nothing, just a nightmare.” You answered and swallowed thickly.

---

For weeks, John plagued your mind and you were starting to convince yourself that you hadn’t truly seen him and that you were just going crazy. Your sleep was becoming more and more restless as time went on. It got so noticeable that even Noah questioned it.

“Take some time off, hun, you work too much.” He said.

So that was what you did. You finally had a week off after what felt like ages.

It was nice, but you were barely half a day into your vacation, and you began to feel restless. What could you possibly do to fill your time?

Your mind began to wander and drift off to thoughts of John; a wave of nausea immediately washed over you. “I need to leave.” You abruptly said and grabbed your purse and house keys before leaving your flat.

You soon found yourself at Central Park. Despite it being autumn, the weather was nice, the kind of nice where you look outside, and it seems warmer than it is. The breeze was soft but brisk you walked through the park enjoying the breath of fresh air. As you walked through the running paths you admired the changing leaves and the crunching sound they made under your feet.

You eyed a bench that overlooked The Lake, so cleverly named, and brushed the fallen leaves that covered it before you sat down. For once you felt like your mind was free from worry and the anxieties that had been consuming you the last several weeks.

That was until you got up and saw a familiar figure walking down the path that would directly cause yours. A shot of adrenaline shot through you and your heart began to race. It was as though your fight or flight responses had kicked in and they were telling you to get the fuck out of there. You frantically looked around and it felt like a lose-lose situation with whatever option you chose. So, you stayed; how bad was it going to be? Maybe he wouldn’t even notice?

John walked past your little out cove and glanced at you and then looked again, “Fucking hell.” He mumbled stopping in his tracks.

The two of you stood frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before John finally broke the silence, “I thought I saw you at the subway station.” He said bluntly, his familiar voice causing a warm feeling to erupt in your belly and spread to the tips of your fingers.

You opened your mouth and closed it, trying to think of something to say, “You did.” Was what you finally spoke.

“Right,” He sighed, looking down in defeat.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets and shifted the weight on your feet, “Do you want to sit?” You asked abruptly.

John looked at you through his round lenses and nodded, “Sure, I could sit for a while.” He answered.

The two of you sat across from each other on your respective benches, “So, how long have you lived here for?” John asked watching you nervously pick at your fingers.

You looked up from your hands, “About 6 years now.” You leaned back, now feeling confident enough to study his features. His face was thinner, age lines had begun to map themselves out on his face, and his hair was messily layered and framed the sides of his face nicely. He was still as handsome as ever, “How long have you lived here for?”

John cleared his throat and pulled out his cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, “About two years now,” the conversation was weird, like the two of you didn’t know what to talk about. You watched as John’s long fingers light his cigarette, the spicy smell filling the space between the two of you and the smoke delicately curling up towards the sky, “So do you work near by or something?” He asked casually crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the bench.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t I just needed to get out of the house.” You said, staring at the reason you felt urged to leave your home in the first place, “I only live about six blocks away. It’s a nice walk.” You added, your stomach suddenly feeling sour as you remembered Noah.

John hummed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette the ember burning a bright red before dimming ever so slightly, “Do you work at all?” His tone came off ruder than expected, but you knew he didn’t intend for it to.

“Marketing.” You answered simply. Your brain swam with question you had for your former lover, “Do you live nearby?” You asked returning the question back to him.

John nodded behind him, “The Dakotas.” He mimicked your shortness. You looked and could see the large building peaking out from the tops of the trees.

You hummed, “Must be nice.” You said flashing him a closed mouth smile.

“It is.” He added and stood up, taking one last deep inhale before stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette in the snow and putting it in his pocket, “You look good, you know.” He said, his eyes studying your seated form before settling on your face.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious and very aware of your existence you crossed pulled your winter coat tighter around you, “So do you John.” You responded, “You’ll have to show me your place sometime.” You boldly suggested.

John flashed you a crooked smile before fishing around in his pocket, “Call me and I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule.” He said before handing you a business card. Of course, he had business cards.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you took the thick and expensive paper and pocketed it, “I’ll have my people call your people.” You allowed a smile to break your nervous features.

That night your mind saw no peace. You sat in the bathroom staring at the business card in your hand. It was nearly 3 am and the delicate gold letters reflected in the shitty florescent lights that made your eyes ache as you repeatedly read the phone number and name.

The rest of your vacation it seemed as though you were not going to get the mental break you so desperately craved. You watched as Noah left for work and felt a pang of guilt rising in your chest; a pice of you felt greedy for wanting to see John again. So, you figured it would be best to tuck it away in the back of your mind to the place where your other thoughts of John lived and put the card away in a shoe box and tried to forget.

---

Forgetting about your interaction with John seemed to work well, that is until you and Noah broke up.

He stood in the doorway with the boxes of his things. You could tell he didn’t feel great, and neither did you. But a piece of you felt thankful that he was finally moving out. After seeing John your body craved the spontaneity that he used to give you, and the spontaneity that Noah had lacked.

Once the last of his things were moved from your apartment you felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt good, like a breath of fresh air. You busied yourself by rearranging your home and filling the empty spaces that Noah left after he and his belongings vacated your space.

As you moved your shoe boxes and rearranged your closet a business card slipped from the tear in one of them. It was the one that John had given you only a few months ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the intricate gold letters you familiarized yourself with that night that seemed so long ago. You looked at the clock, it was only 4 PM and you had hoped he wasn’t busy.

You curled up on your couch and held the phone receiver against your ear listening to it ring as you absentmindedly played with the stiff card in your hand.

“Hello?” You instantly recognized John’s voice.

“John?” You responded back, “It’s, um, it’s [Y/N]” You felt a surge of nerves pulse through you.

“You know, I expected you to call sooner.” John skipped the formal greetings.

You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose nerves got the best of me.” It wasn’t a whole truth, but a half truth, “Do you think you’d be interested in showing me your place sometime?” you asked remembering back to the conversation the two of you had several months prior.

John hummed and you could hear the soft rustle of paper in the background before he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I suppose I could fit you in. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, “Dinner?” You question out loud and let out a puff of air, “Yeah, I suppose I could.”

“Right, so 6 o’clock sound good?” John asked, “I can send a car for you.”

“A car?” You asked, not accustom to the luxuries of being a Beatle, “I can walk it’ll be fine.”

John let out a sigh, “It’s freezing outside and nearly pitch black. You aren’t walking.” He said firmly.

“Fine.” You answered in defeat and gave him your address to send the car.

“Right, be ready by 5:30.” He said  

“Shit, okay.” You said before bidding him farewell and scrambling to get ready. The sleek black car arrived and drove you to the Dakotas. It was nice, far nicer than any building you had ever been in before. The driver walked you up to John’s apartment and let you in.

The room was decorated in a hodgepodge of John’s interests, from music to art to antiques; with everything tastefully on display. John walked out, dressed casually in a shirt, jeans, and no shoes and drank in your figure as you stripped off your jacket. You shifted nervously under his intense gaze, “So, you wanted a tour, yeah?” John asked.

You nodded and watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, admiring how his biceps flexed and bulged when his hands rested in position, “Yeah, a tour.” You said secretly hoping this would amount to much more than a tour.

John stretched his arms out, “Well welcome to my humble home.” He greeted in a grandiose manor.

Humble, right.

John’s home was more extravagant than you could have imagined. It was much better than the apartment he lived in with Stu or the back room they had in Hamburg and even better than when he lived with Mimi. He had several cats that roamed around his home; it made you smile and remember the time he brought a stray home and convinced Mimi to keep him. It seemed as though old habits died hard when it came to John.

The two of you made your way back to his living room and he sat down on his couch, “Come on, sit.” He said patting the spot next to him.

“Oh,” You abruptly said, not noticing you had been standing in the middle of the room studying the various things on the wall, “Right.” You quickly sat on the couch uncomfortably stiff, “So… dinner?” You asked.

John nodded his head, not having forgotten the food and pulled out a box of take out menus, “Do you want to order something, I haven’t gotten much for groceries this week.” He admitted sheepishly.

You rifled through the various menus in his collection, “So,” You started, “Where is Yoko?” You asked honestly wondering where his other half was.

“We’re separated right now.” He said sounding uncomfortable.

You glanced over at John and noted his somber expression, this was obviously a topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Sorry to pry.” You said before sliding him the menu of one of your favorite Chinese restaurants in the area.

“It’s a valid question.” He stated, now intently focused on the menu, “What about you?” He asked, peaking up to glance at you before quickly looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, your love life and what not.” He followed up quickly.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Oh, well my ex just moved out today.”

John arched one of his thick brows, “Hm,” He grunted, “Nice lad?” He questioned.

You shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. Just boring.” You answered thinking back to the stale and stagnant version of your life that was your reality only a week ago.

John watched you frown in distain before he got up to place your orders, “What did you want again?” He asked.

“The number 23 dinner special with an eggroll.” You had your order memorized.

As John placed the order on his telephone, you listened to the sound of his muffled voice and leaned back on the couch. It was interesting how despite not seeing each other for nearly a decade, you still found your way back to him. One of his cats climbed their way on your lap and purred as you scratched behind its ears.

“She likes you.” John said as he walked back into the room, “Food should be here in 45 minutes.” He said plopping back down. The black cat nuzzled its head into your head and let out a soft meow.

“What’s her name?” You asked enjoying the attention your newfound friend was giving you.

“Salt.” He said, a smile cracking his features.

“Salt?” You asked letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Her sister, Pepper is somewhere around here.” He said reaching over and petting Salt, scratching her behind the ears.

Your 45 minutes with John was spent chatting and catching up, he talked about Mimi and told you that she asked about you often and he never knew how to respond, and you talked to him about how you finished college and began your marketing job.

It was interesting how the two of you were able to smooth over the awkwardness of your conversation in just a few short hours, unlike your previous run ins. The familiar warm feeling you would get every time you’d talk to him quickly returned. When your food arrived the doorman from the front of the building brought it up and the two of you laid out your spread on the coffee table.

John walked over to a shelf of movies and pulled one out. He turned towards you, flashing you the box. It didn’t surprise you when he showed you Clockwork Orange. It was a very John movie, “Want to watch it?” He asked smiling softly.

You nodded your head, “Pop it in.” You said waving your hand towards his television.

The movie played in the background as the two of you continued to talk and eat your takeaway, “How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m fine, how are you?” He responded a confused expression plastered on his face.

You shook your head, “No, John I really mean it; how are you?” You said giving him a sympathetic expression.

Putting his chopsticks down, John sighed, “I don’t know.” He pursed his lips deep in thought, “I mean I suppose I’ve been better.” He answered honestly, “I mean, my wife left me, my friends I’ve known for the last two decades don’t really want much to do with me.” John shrugged his should and looked away from you.

You nodded your head reaching over and grabbing his hand, rubbing it with your thumb before you patted it lightly and pulled it away. John chased your hand with his own and laced his fingers with yours. The rough underside of his palm brushed against your soft ones. The contrasting touch made you shiver, “I missed you.” He said and squeezed your hand.

John brought your hand to the side of his face and pressed your palm to his cheek, leaning into the warmth of your hand, “I missed you too.” You said as you thumb stroked his cheek bone. He turned his face and kissed your skin.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and the feeling of John’s lips burned into your palm. You watched him, his eyes closed and a calm expression taking over his tense body. Slowly you slid closer to him, closing what little space was between the two of you, “John,” You said breaking the soft silence that had settled between the two of you. He hummed and looked up at you urging you to continue, “You know what you told me when we broke up?”

John looked down, you could tell that the topic hurt him as much as it hurt you, “If it’s meant to be, we’ll find each other.” He said softly now looking at your fingers as he played with them.

In this moment he just looked like John, you’re John you had last seen nearly a decade ago. You pulled your fingers away from him and cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Hesitantly you moved closer to him, feeling the warmth of John’s body radiating off him. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your noses touched, lightly brushing against each other.

A soft whimper manifested itself in the back of your throat and trickled out when you felt John press his lips against yours. He pulled your close against his chest and held you against him tightly craving your warmth and body. Your mouths moved with a familiar synchronicity, so familiar it caused your stomach to ache as you frantically clung to John. Your hand managed to fall from his face and tangle itself in his shirt as you tried to pull him closer.

The way your nose bumped against his glasses reminded you of when you were 18 and sneaking into Mimi’s house, giggling as he told you to quiet down while the two of you kissed. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

John pulled away and left open mouth kisses on your chin and jaw and finally on your kiss. He immediately went to his favorite spot placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on it. You gasped at the feeling and craned your neck urging him for more.

Which he gladly gave you, pulling more sweet sounds from your mouth. He pulled back and studied your face through hooded eyes. John’s hand came up and he stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand. His touch was light and the back of his hand soft. You let out a sigh and leaned into his touch before looking back at him.

You laid back and pulled John against your chest. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into you, “I’m sorry for what’s happened John,” You said and admired the weight of his body against yours.

John rubbed his face into your chest and didn’t look at you, “Stay the night, please.” He pleaded with you.

You rubbed his back as he clung to you, your heart ached hearing the loneliness in his voice, “Of course.” You said and kissed the top of his hair. John hummed with content feeling your fingers tracing patterns against his back.

The following morning you woke up next to John, his arm firmly wrapped around you and hair buried in the back of your neck. You turned around and wrapped your free arm him while your other remained pinned on your side. John let out a soft sigh and pulled you close against his chest and kissed the top of your head. You’d forgotten how much you missed and craved affection. You moved to leave, and John pulled you back, “Don’t leave me,” He said softly.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You said smiling and turning towards John.

He let out a playful groan, “Fine.” He said rolling over and sprawling out on his bed like a starfish.

When you returned John was still in the same position, you’d left him in. As you crawled back into the bed John’s arms slithered around you like a snake and pulled you into his chest. You inhaled deeply, missing his smell and smiled against the thin shirt he wore to bed.

In just a short amount of time the life that had once felt so grey and strange was now beginning to once again feel like home.

[cerberus253]

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size. 

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way. 

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute. 

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired. 

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic. 

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood. 

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers  

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters. 

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories. 

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’ 

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good. 

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake. 

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off  “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village. 

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right” 

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor. 

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho. 

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story. 

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

[phoebehalliwell]

Piper/Kyle, except it's an AU where Kyle's parents were never killed by demons, so he lived a perfectly normal, happy childhood and grew up to follow their footsteps into teaching and Kyle's a normal, maybe even a little boring archaeology professor who secretly dreams of having his very own Indiana Jones moment - up until the day he opens some dusty old chest and unleashes a demon that tries to kill him, and he barely gets away only to run into this petite brunette woman who proceeds to blow the demon the fuck up, and Kyle's never believed in love at first sight before, but he's pretty sure he can make an exception for Piper

wait omg mentally stable kyle au okay wait i gotta wrap my head around this kyle but not absofuckinlutely insane whatta picture omg. okay. i feel like he’s still gotta have this belief in the supernatural i feel like that’s a large part of the charm in literally any kyle dynamic with the sisters is Witch Who Gets It and Man Who’s Only Got Raw Data. there’s an appeal to that. seeing things from different angles all that. so we can say kyle ever good at puzzles has taken his parents notes and everything he knows and various texts and kinda pieced together okay magic does exist. but in this au he’s a professor and not an fbi agent so he can’t just walk around saying Magic Is Real because um he needs this job. also he’s never seen it. but like. the data does not like. like. like it’s real man like are you kidding me. and we’ll say he has one normal friend because he’s normal in this au and he’s like okay here me out tho magic is real and his friend is like ......okay. because like. it could be, i guess? i’m not gonna fight you on this. and kyle also definitely read a lot as a kid he reads a lot now and he’s always kinda like. like you know wondered what it might be like to be a man of action not someone stuck behind a desk all day seeing the world through books. so when he starts to see markers of the gathering storm,,, well. these are the times that make a man. he can either be a pussy about it and keep living his life through paper and ink, or he can follow his intuition. blah blah blah this leads him to get kidnapped by pirates which like. excuse me??? and kyle’s kinda kicking himself because he Wanted to be like a character in an adventure book and well like bada bing bada boom you get what you ask for. which. all due respect on his part. is smart enough to outwit them and escape. he might have dropped his wallet there tho. but when he goes back the same route wandering through the thick fog, all he finds is a solid wall of rock. so i guess he’s fucked in that regard. whoops. but!! magic is real. so that’s a dub. digs a little bit more into the blackjack cutting lore, maybe finds the x marks the spot on where their main hideout was, road trip to. seattle? i guess? port city that isn’t san francisco but is more reasonable to drive to that like. nola or boston. and lo and behold he finds it and find their documentation of the gathering storm accidentally trips a booby trap and jesus fucking christ pirate skeletons with sword which - respectfully - kyle is holding his own for the most part, not getting immediately worried, but there’s no way that would have lasted had the three skeletons not been blown to pieces. and he looks over and sees three brunettes and the one in the center is like who the hell are you? to which kyle really feels like He should be the one asking that question but after stammering out some kind of response about how he’s a professor and he was just looking for some soil samples something generic archaeological because hey. he doesn’t trust these women. he doesn’t know what side they’re on. and he’s not just gonna sacrifice the information he has on the gathering storm. and it’s obvious they don’t believe him, but they don’t kill him either. instead, the one in the center just says be more careful where you leave your stuff and tosses his wallet back to him.

and later at the manor paige is like we just let him go?? and phoebe’s like yeah how to we know he’s not a demon? he wouldn’t be the first to pose as a mortal in the mortal world (because phoebe went to the university to return kyle’s wallet because like it has is ID in it employee id all that under the guise of like. giving a lecture to some of the student’s there as the bay’s leading advice columnist oh hey is there a kyle brody here yeah haha he’s a friend of a friend anyone seen him no he’s on vacation right now? left real abruptly? and then immediately went into his office and touched every surface trying to get a premonition (au in which phoebe didn’t get her powers stripped) and concluded that he’s just Some Guy. like he like has friends and a nine to five and an apartment. so a guy). but piper’s like we don’t know. but we also don’t know what he’s up to or what his connection to the pirates was, which is why i cast a tracking spell on the wallet. and both phoebe and paige approve and in this au again phoebe didn’t get her powers stripped so in styx feet under it’s her and paige on mission and as paige is the one who cast the protection spell and as paige is also very stubborn and also refuses to let innocents die she is the one who gets to become death. she also has a very compelling relationship with death because like. she watched her parents die. and she’s prue’s replacement. the replacement for the dead girl. also fun paige/prue parallel! meanwhile right Should state in any piper/kyle au we just extend pleo’s divorce era by having him remain an elder and keeping that early s6 vibe. so piper’s definitely like a bit more neurotic than normal because you know things haven’t gone great for her and those pirates were warning about the gathering storm and honestly that better not be something that’s gonna hurt her boys because she really could not bear to lose another family member so she’s doing some digging which begins to imply that kyle knows more that he let on so where is he now? the university? great.

and kyle’s you know minding his own business in his office when the same woman practically kicks down his door and is like alright i’m gonna ask again who the hell are you and this time you better answer me honestly. to which: wow. like wow. she’s. she’s a force to be reckoned with and also kinda immediately gains points in kyle’s book for like a) kinda confronting him about knowing more because he’s pretty good at covering his tracks all that so if he’s been Found Out it’s by someone good and b) she also disintegrated evil pirate skeletons so like. 👍. But. he does not trust her for shit. no. absolutely not. he has no reason to. but piper’s not yielding blasts a hole in the wall near his head like quickly now or next time i won’t miss but kyle’s so fuckin stubborn he’s like 🤐 and piper’s. i mean, she can’t kill an innocent. she doesn’t know if that’s who he is, but she can’t run that risk. and kyle’s not saying shit, so she leaves.

then it’s the guardian angel episode where the charmed ones are there on instruction (though they don’t know what they’re looking for. maybe they were just scrying for information) and kyle’s there on a hunch and piper and kyle see each other and it’s um. mac charlie see each other from across the room reaction image. both like. what the fuck are you doing here? and in this one paige is still the one to get her guardian angel stolen and piper’s immediately on high alert because you know big sister/mom mode activated. but they don’t know what they’re looking for and kyle’s like it’s her guardian angel. and piper once again snaps to him firey look in her eyes but kyle’s really just trying to place nice here so he’s like guardian angels. they’ve been going missing being stolen whatever. he’s got the research on it. and piper doesn’t want to trust him but paige is really in grave danger. so, as the sister with the offensive power, she’s going with kyle, and phoebe has to make sure paige doesn’t like. pull a grams. (which for the record i do not accept prewitched as canon but like the elders definitely killed grams <3)

so blah blah blah piper’s now and kyle’s place which is ten times worse than his office because this is where he does his real work and he’s got all the guardian angel shit up and out and is explaining it to piper and it’s making sense but what catches her eye is something on the gathering storm that kyle left out now they’re talking about that they’re starting to realize they’re on the same side. blah blah blah save paige. next episodes what werewolf episode. skip. then!! idk paige still runs magic school right so she’s in the library and she calls piper and she’s like hey remember when you told me to keep an eye out on the gathering storm? and piper’s like yes yeah what is it? and she’s like well we’re inventorying the library and we have books on them and piper’s like that’s good news ! ? and paige is like yeah but we’re missing one. book five. in this something something series. and piper knows Exactly where that book is because she fucking saw it on kyle’s kitchen counter. so now she’s barging into kyle’s place which is getting to be a common occurrence at this point and kyle kinda wants to complain but this is by far the most interesting his life’s been ever and honestly? he’d be kinda bummed if piper stopped kicking down his door. wait actually scratch that you want my book no fuck you changed my mind. to which piper’s like look we’re looking for the same goal here right so give me the book because i have the rest of the series and this could be the missing puzzle piece and kyle’s like okay fine i’ve read the book cover to cover give me the rest of the series and i’ll get you your answers and piper’s like okay let’s get things straight here i’m the witch you’re some two bit archeology professor so when it comes to the handling of sacred magical tomes i’ll be taking the reigns here and kyle’s like fine then you won’t be taking the book. and piper’s like wanna bet and the next think kyle knows he’s hearing the door slam his book’s gone and he’s hearing tires peel out onto the street and he has no idea how she did it. 

back at the manor piper’s got her reading glasses on an volume one open and god this fucking sucks. so she makes phoebe take a stab at it and she hates reading it too. paige also starts it and is like respectfully no. piper’s the only one who did the reading in high school. this is her turf. but my god she cannot make it through all eight of these fucking books. So. she calls kyle. he has to come to the manor because there’s no way she’s giving him the books and there’s no way she’s letting him in magic school so. hi. welcome to the house. but!! by a contrived plot device!!!! a gnome has been shot in magic school this book was the only thing at the scene and paige wants to investigate further but she can’t just leave it out there so she brings it back to the manor she���s gonna cast some spell to find out if there are already spells on the book how to reverse it she just needs to find the spell first and like. there’s no way in hell paige ever wears an outfit with big enough pockets to keep the book on her. so she leaves it on the table. to which kyle asks how this is relevant to the collection. to which piper says don’t open that!! whoops. see, this is why i said we don’t let two bit archeology professors near magical books! piper/kyle charmed noir..............

[unluckybreadling]

Nae.gami.giri hcs

For M.preg ma.koto and I partially blame @tum-bakery <3 more under cut cuz I ramble and this would take too long for an ask.

- When Ma.koto first announces to them that he’s pregnant the just “0_0″ and have to sit down and just reflect or something. Both are for once shocked into silence, they’re happy of course! but they just take a minute and also realize that their sex life is on pause which is going to be frustrating for sure those two mfs are horny as hell-

-When they tell their friends, A.oi screams and bounces around excited and gets very very giddy... she just so excited. Hi.ro is also happy for them and happily tells them that he predicted this would happen. To.ko is sadden because ya know master has a heir that isn’t being carried by her but is happy for the trio. Kom.aru is ecstatic, her and A.oi bounce around  already making plans for the baby. -Hey! I didn’t forget about the ghosts ya know! They’re overjoyed too! Expect for Jun.ko of course she is just disgusted bc ew too much hope in the room. Then class 77 finds out and they’re already whipping shit up for the baby, Kome.ada being the mostest because ‘A NEW GENERATION OF HOPE! HOPE GIVING BIRTH TO NEW HOPE-” he’s having a major fangirl moment.  

-Oh! And the Na.egi cult they have a day of celebration for (their) christ will bore a child and it’ll be holy!! -Its doctor time and Bya.kuya and kyo.ko practically faint meanwhile Ma.koto is overflowing with Joy, and looks them and just sighs happily, because guess what bitches??? ITS TWINS!!! (maybe triplets next time) -Now I hc that makoto has two tall ass partners (Kuya being like 6″2-3′ cuz i’m pretty sure he grew and Kyo.ko being 6″1 & like 6″7′ with heels) so you be one of those crazy cult members (or Nag.ito) that try to touch his stomach to feel blessed or something, your ass will get stopped by two cold as ice glares and either one of them lifting your shirt collar. You will not touch the egg or the mini ones, PERIOD. -Anyway that being said the two are furiously protective (they were before he was pregnant but now its like amp up) they basically coddle ma.koto. He needs his weird carving food at 3am? The chef is on it. A foot stool? Its made out of the softest fabric ever. They just spoil the man, ma.koto doesn’t mind.  -Because ma.koto is tiny and these babies appear to be big (Bya.kuya: Stop feeding them ice cream if they’re so big. Ma.koto: I can’t!!! they’re always hungry!!!) he out grows clothes rather quickly, so they are always out shopping. Stretchy Maternity clothes are the only thing he survives in. Though bya.kuya would like him in more formal clothes, Kyo.ko doesn’t care he looks handsome either way.

- Ma.koto is often self conscious about his body as the he knows when the twins are out it’ll just be left over fat and stretch marks. ky.oko and bya.kuya are like total babes they don’t need an out of shape partner, he fears they’ll leave him. His partners are like ‘???What makes you think we’ll leave you just because you have some fat or stretch marks??? We still love you.’ and ma.koto just bawls at that statement.

-  Bya.kuya and Kyo.ko were often scared to touch Ma.koto’s stomach they fear that like they’ll curse it or something. They don’t really know how to be affection-y, so they try to avoid touching (both talk to the twins for the most part) but it hurts ma.koto when they clearly want to touch it but are hesitant. It isn’t till one day both twins are active and ma.koto has tried calming them down. So he just grabs their hands and like ‘calm them down, now.’ and it works.

- The trio wanted to have small baby shower. But No, its the seven of them plus the WOH, and class 77, so it is LOUD. They got all these gifts from friends, FF members and of course the cult. Its very overwhelming.

-Also Yes Nag.ito had to be kept on a leash and ibuki was not allowed to play her music in fear of the twins health.

-Overall the shower was fun and the trio got more baby stuff, parenting tips and baby accessories than they could ever imagine. and three promptly passout afterwards.

- Oh Ig I should have mentioned this earlier but ma.koto is a workaholic, and being the headmaster of HPA while pregnant is just stressing both Kyo.ko and Bya.kuya out as both aren’t there with him to force get him to take a day off. He finally starts working from home around his mid second trimester.  -Something silly but I hc the makoto is curvy (more so than average, girls get jealous lol)  from behind he looks normal but then he turns around boom! baby belly. It's a shocker, especially when he gets bigger.

...hgggghg this is long but I enjoyed writing this. If you have headcanons or anything please feel free to hmu! I love hearing Hcs!

[hopeaterart]

I’m gonna be there: Chapter 14

Aka Jazz cover of Deja Vue plays in the background

“Thanks for dropping me, man!” Joey told his brother in law as he left the car, his store right in front.

“You’re welcome.” Sadao answered, Joriko getting out of the car only to come back to sit at the front. “You’re sure you’re gonna be fine finding your way through the subway by yourself? I know they’re pretty different than what you people have in the states...”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” Joey reassured him. “The worst that’ll happen is me calling you to pick me up.”

“That’s exactly what I’m scared of. Take care.” Sadao said as he rolled the window back up, ignoring Joey’s protests as he drove away. He turned toward his niece. “So, how’s school? Are you doing well?”

“I’m having some difficulties with science.” The younger girl admitted, her uncle making a disbelieved noise.

“Really? But I thought you wanted to go into astronomy later?”

“I know, but- there’s just so much!” Joriko complained, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t know where to focus...”

“If you need help, you should probably ask your teacher. Or Holly and I could get you a tutor.” Sadao started, letting his niece moan in despair before continuing. “There’s nothing shameful in asking for help. If someone tries to make you feel bad for admitting you need help, you have my permission to kick them in the balls. And the rest?”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, I don’t joke about kicking people’s balls. Now, what about the rest of your classes? If you’re doing bad in sciences even though you like them, I can’t imagine how you’re doing in math.”

“I’m actually doing great, it’s just- so boring!” Joriko complained. “And useless, too! In what everyday situation would I need algebra!?”

“Joriko, sciences and mathematics are more closely related than you’d think.” Sadao told his niece in a deadpan tone. “And you haven’t told me how you’re doing in the rest of your classes.”

“I’m doing okay. They’re boring, but I’m doing okay.”

“Jesus christ, you become more like Jotaro each day. In a few years, you’ll probably cripple the local gang activity before randomly locking yourself in prison because you think you punched someone too hard.”

There was a pause, and then Sadao and Joriko burst into laughter, the mood light. He could almost forget what Holly had told him, that his younger niece had been Stand users the entire time without him knowing, and it meant that his brother probably had been too.

Almost. He tried not to think about it.

The moment was broken as they heard a car horn from behind. Sadao looked in the rear-view mirror, frowning at the beat up car behind them. He let them pass, only for the car to suddenly slow down in front of them, the gas coming from it nearly blinding his view. “Piece of shit car driver...” He muttered under his breath, honking the horn two times.

“Why did you let him pass?” Joriko asked, turning toward her uncle as said uncle grit his teeth.

“How was I supposed to know he was going to slow down right in front of us?” Sadao countered, Joriko humming in understanding as her uncle rolled down the window, sticking his head out and screaming at the driver to hurry up already. He came back inside when the driver made a sign to let them pass, grumbling about how they should have stayed behind.

“Looks like they remembered how shitty their car was!” Exclaimed Joriko, laughing to herself as Sadao made a mention of language. 

Suddenly, Sadao saw something out of the corner of his eye, and after some quick, last minute maneuvering, successfully avoiding another, out-of-control car, which crashed into a lamp pole. The shorter man stayed frozen for a moment, before the driver of the other car came out, yelling obscenities at him.

As Sadao’s bafflement switched to rage, storming out of his car to snap right back at the other driver, Joriko stayed in her seat, processing what had happened. The timing with the other driver had been just too neat for it to be a simple accident. And where did that shitty car from earlier go!?

Was... was that guy after her family too?

“AND STAY OFF THE ROADS IF YOU’RE GONNA BE DRIVING LIKE AN ASS, CHINCHIN!” Sadao finished as he came back in the car, the driver that had almost crashed into them just standing there and looking like an idiot as the short man drove away. “Sheesh, I know I’m not the most well-placed to call other drivers assholes, but this is bullshit- Joriko, you okay?”

“Do you think that the driver from earlier might be after us too?” Sadao’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead, but he simply turned his eyes back to the road, rifling in one of his pockets.

“Don’t worry. If anyone’s after us, they’re gonna show up at the house, and your aunt will take care of them. They won’t go after us in a random street of Tokyo.” He reassured, getting out of a pack of gum out of his coat. “You want it? It’s Meiji Watta.”

“Cola or grape flavored?”

“Cola.” Joriko nodded, taking the gum from her uncle and popping the sweet in her mouth. 

As the cotton-candy texture shifted into something more akin to actual gum, she started talking again. “Why are people after us anyway?” Joriko asked her uncle. “I mean, did dad do something to them?”

“Oh no, your dad didn’t do anything.” Sadao reassured her. “It’s business on Holly’s side of the family. I didn’t understand everything, but there’s some guy named Dio who’s a vampire with a grudge against her ancestors, we think he might be possessing the corpse of her great-grandfather, and he’s sending people to try and kill us.”

“... okay. That explains why Joey-san is here. But why where we also attacked?”

“People are idiots.” Sadao shrugged. He then thought for a moment, before adding. “Then again, out of Holly, Jotaro and I, I’m the only one who is a 100% down to murder, and I did, so they might have a point in thinking we’re dangerous.”

“Sheesh. It’s still not a reason to go after me and my sister.” Joriko answered, before looking in the rearview mirror. She gasped. “The shitty car from earlier is back!”

“Open your window and flip him off.” Sadao told her, smiling to himself when his niece did just that, giggling the entire time.

“I like going in a car with you.” Joriko told her uncle as she rolled the window back up. “It’s fun!”

“Yeah, no one in the family is going to be agreeing with you on this one.” Sadao said in a deadpan tone even if he was smiling. “Apparently, me “getting my license at gunpoint” means I’m a “danger to the public safety”.” He explained, doing air quotes as Joriko’s eyes widened like saucers.

“You got your license HOW!?”

“Do not yell in the car, Joriko.” Sadao snapped at his niece, who pouted. He took a deep breath. “Sorry for that. And I promise you the story isn’t as bad as it sounds. You see-” The car behind them honked, pulling a groan from both of them. “Hold on-” The older man rolled his window down, and stuck his head outside. “FUCK OFF!”

He groaned as he came back inside, rolling the window back up. Joriko blinked. “Can we put on some music?”

Sadao nodded. “Of course!” Joriko turned on the radio, the beat of a popular pop song filling the car almost immediately as she started singing along to it, her uncle tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with rhythm.

As they turned a corner to a less populated street, the radio suddenly started fizzing out. Sadao frowned in confusion, before a voice filtered into the car. “You do realize you don’t stand a chance right?”

The older man groaned as his niece blinked in confusion. “Let me guess. You were sent by Dio to kill the Kujo family?” He snarked. “Because I’ve got some news for you, dipshit: vampire fucker doesn’t actually care about us. He’s after my wife and son. You know, the guys with Joestar blood in their veins?”

“... well then, lead me to them, give up your daughter, and I’ll spare your life.” The voice over the coms said, and Sadao sighed in exasperation.

“1) That’s my niece, not my daughter. 2) Over my dead. Body.” He hissed. Before he could get an answer, he turned the radio off, rolled down his window, stuck his arm out, and flipped the car behind them off.

There was then a sound not unlike gunshot sounding out, and Sadao retreated his hand inside of the car, yelping in pain. He frowned at the deep wound on the back of it, which had also ripped to shreds the bandages covering it. Joriko gasped.

“Joriko.” Sadao started calmly, rolling his window back up as he started to pick up speed. “Keep your head down, and give me my phone, please.” He calmly asked, holding his good hand out for his niece to give him his phone.

As he calmly dialed Joriko’s school, explaining to them that his niece is feeling sick and may not show up today, the teenager summoned her Stand, Saturnz Barz’s blue stardust falling into the car like freshly fallen snow, before fading away as the planet’s bobbed into the backseat. “If he wants trouble...” She started.

“We’ll give him trouble.” Sadao finished, hanging up before doing a 180 and hitting the gas pedal, the wheel’s screech only muted by the two Kujo’s matching screams for blood.

The razzed right past the car that was following them, back into the main street as Sadao started maneuvering around the other cars, setting a location on his GPS as Joriko kept an eye on the car by using the rearview mirror. “So... what are you gonna do?”

“What can you do with your powers? I need a short version.” Sadao asked his niece, who looked surprised for a moment before smiling.

“I can make things levitate, set them on fire, create small storms, stop things from moving, cut things, create harmful gases, and freeze things.” She explained, each planet bobbing when she mentioned their abilities, not that her uncle could see them.

He did, however, nod in understanding with a smile on his face. “Adaptable to any situation, then. Just like you.” Joriko gave a big smile at the compliment. “You think you can use those fancy powers of yours to slow him down? I’ve got a plan.”

His niece nodded, making the planet numbered ‘4’ phase out of the car to start a storm behind, Sadao starting to speed up and veering around the other cars in the road, ignoring every single Japanese traffic law in the process. Joriko smiled as she saw the car behind them starting to slow down. “It’s working!”

“Good! If I don’t lose my license after this, then I’ll never lose it.” Sadao noted, looking around to make sure no police officers were around. “Is he still behind us?”

“Yeah... should I find a way to destroy the car?”

“No, that’s not necessary. When I tell you, can you make one of his tire pop?”

Joriko looked at planet #6. “I can do that.”

“Good- GET DOWN!” Joriko crouched as Sadao more-or-less slid down his seat, a sound not unlike bullets being shot sounding out as the back window, upper parts of the seats and front window were destroyed by bullets. As the sound stopped, Sadao started the radio back on as he sat in his seat properly. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” He yelled at it, and was answered y a sly laugh.

“Should’ve surrounded when you had the chance!~” The voice from earlier taunted, and Sadao grit his teeth.

“Once again, I’d rather die than let anyone in my family get in danger.” The musician told the radio.

More laughter streamed out. “You really think you stand a chance!? You haven’t even realized the purpose of my attack!”

It’s when the smell suddenly hit Joriko, who frowned in worry. “Ojisan... the car is covered in gasoline.” Sadao frowned in worry, and had the time to take good whiff before seeing the driver behind take a wire with sparkling electricity on it, the cable somehow extending to his car, and then the fire caught on.

“WHAT THE FU- WHEN DID HE FIND THE TIME TO- JORIKO PUT THE FIRE OUT!” Sadao screamed, taking a sudden turn to another street and speeding up even faster. 

Joriko snapped out of her trance, making Saturnz Barz’s fourth and last planet start to cycle around the car. The effect was instantaneous: whatever wasn’t smothered by red particles was put out by extreme cold, her breath fogging up and what was left of the windows frosting up. “Can I pop his tire now?” Sadao nodded with gritted teeth, and she sent out Planet #6 to send a ring at the car chasing them. 

The front-left tire pretty much blew up at the impact, their chaser veering off the path as Sadao turned, stopping the beat-up car in a turning toward Joriko. “Alright, so here’s the plan...”

-

Their chaser grumbled as he regenerated his tire. He hadn’t seen the red-ice storm to put out the gasoline fire coming, nor did he see them finding a way to pop his tire. And not just in any way either: they had used another Stand to do it, which meant he had to put in actual effort to regenerate it.

He tracked their car back to the small green area it had suddenly stopped in a few minutes ago, only to stop in surprise at the sight: the black, sleek car had crashed into a tree. “They... crashed.” He started laughing. “They crashed! And as thus!” The enemy Stand User declared, laughing madly and pointing his finger to the sky. “Sadao Kujo is dead! I win! This story draws to an end-”

Suddenly, two weights dropped onto the roof of the car, and two pair of hands took a hold of his arm. A strange orb with the number one started floating around his arm, and he suddenly felt weightless. “Oh, please!” A young feminine voice exclaimed. “My uncle’s the driving force of the story! Without him, it wouldn’t exist!”

“And trust me,” A rough, masculine voice continued. “You don’t my role to become someone to be avenged.” The pair of hands tugged, throwing him out of the safety of his car easily and revealing Sadao and Joriko Kujo standing atop of it. Both of them were missing their hats, alongside Sadao’s coat and Joriko’s chain which had stayed in the car, and multiple orbs were flying around the younger girl.

“What!? But how-”

“I crashed my car on purpose, noroma. We’ll have to replace it,” he looked at the banged up front of his black car, which looked somewhat crunched from the impact with the fence. “but I can still drive us home.” Sadao explained, jumping down from the roof of the car and helping his niece down. “And then, we hid in that tree over there. You really should have thought twice before engaging me in a car chase.”

“Yeah! Sadao-ojisan’s got his license at gunpoint!” Joriko laughed as Sadao got a knife out. “You never stood a chance!”

“W- wait,” their enemy started cowering. “You’re not going to kill me, are you? I’m just in this for the money!”

“I don’t care about your reasons.” Sadao hissed. “I killed someone for threatening to harm my son. You actively threatened my niece’s life the moment you tried to get that car to crash into us. And as far as I’m concerned, once you start hurting others, it becomes easier each time- Joriko, you alright?”

The younger girl was suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “Can we... just beat him up? I don’t- I don’t want to kill him.” She explained, tone unsure.

Sadao nodded after a moment. “Can you keep him on the ground?” Joriko nodded, her mood already picking up as the fifth planet of Saturnz Barz came to circle around their enemy, increasing his own weight until he couldn’t move anymore, the uncle-niece duo coming near him with malevolent smiles.

After kicking him forty-seven times and leaving with a warning to ‘stay the fuck away from them’ (Sadao’s words), they got back into the beat-up car, Sadao starting it as Joriko fidgeted. “So... what now? Are you gonna bring me to school?”

“Do you have science today?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll let it pass this time. You want to buy some sweets on the way ba-” Sadao’s phone started ringing, and he quickly answered it. “Yes?”

“...”

“Hi Holly!~”

“...”

“What?”

“... ... ...”

“I’ll be right there.” Sadao started up the car, suddenly looking more worried than he had looked the entire time they were being chased. “Joriko.”

“Yeah, what?”

“When we get home, you stay in the car until I tell you it’s safe to come out, got it?”

“Wha-”

“Got it!?” Sadao asked again, tone more urgent, and Joriko just nodded, wondering what her aunt had told her husband to put him in that state.

She, after all, hadn’t been told about the murder of Sherry Polnareff.

[livingmybestfakelife]

Candy Girl

He didn’t want to believe it when he was told about the different men going in and out of your house, it was something that you successfully kept under wraps from him ever since he came back from France, you just knew he’d make a big deal of it, reminding you about the offer to work at the company as his secretary.

But you weren’t made to sit at a desk all day, you liked being active and out in the world, it was always your personality, being domesticated would be taming you and you refused to be tied down, if your parents couldn’t keep you from moving out the second the clock hit twelve midnight on your eighteenth birthday then no man could.

You were independent minded even before then, you did everything to keep your hustling muscle strong, when pickpocketing rich people was beginning to get tiring, you started draining men out of their money in card games, selling cigarettes, and occasionally doing things that were more socially acceptable like babysitting and hairdressing.

Still all of that also begin to bore you and your next venture was something you actually stuck with, it made you the most money out of everything else, enough to at least move out of Birmingham for good, that was where your most wealthy clients were anyway, it would save you the trouble of taking a train back and forth every other day, it would also keep you from hearing Thomas nag at you for your choice of work, you could hear f bombs and see his wagging finger already, it made you want to take back up smoking.

You continued your daily routine; wake up, bathe, get dressed in an outfit that was much more nicer than the average Birmingham woman would wear, eat breakfast and either wait for clients who lined up appointments or go to the ones who requested that you go see them, all of this went on until one o’clock, that was when you liked to have your lunch, when you didn’t feel like cooking you either went by your parents house or went to Mr. and Mrs. O'Shaughnessy’s little restaurant, because of your association with the Shelby’s they always offered you a free meal no matter how much you insisted to pay for it, if you could catch them while they weren’t looking you’d toss the coins in the till before Mr. O'Shaughnessy could protest.

Today your parents were out, your father at work and your mum at your aunts house getting her hair done, your mum left a note on the kitchen table that your meal was in the oven and should still be hot by the time you arrive, and as she predicted your steak and eggs were as warm as if they fresh out of the pan, she must not have left too long ago.

After dramatically rubbing your hands together you took the big plate out of the oven and went to get a knife and fork, “Mum, you out did yourself once again” you mumble after taking a big bite out the steak, before you could get a scoop of eggs you heard the loud banging on the door, you instantly jumped up and ran to get the spare pistol your father kept for protection in a tiny cabinet that wasn’t being used, potential intruders most likely not looking there for anything special.

After making sure it was loaded, you quickly headed to the door and peaked out of the little curtain that covered the small window next to the door, after seeing that it was only Tommy you let out a sigh of relief and snatched the door open “You wanna explain to me why you’re damn near breaking down my parents door, I thought you were trouble Thomas, was ready to pump you full of hot bullets”, you stepped aside to let him in and he angrily stomped inside, reaching around you to slam the door shut.

“Alright, seriously what the fuck is your problem?!” You exclaimed and went to go back to the kitchen, being angry didn’t kill your appetite, his attitude couldn’t stop you from gobbling down your mothers cooking, “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” Ignoring him, you continued walking and put the gun away before sitting back down “I swear I will toss that food in the trash”, “And I will shoot you in the balls” giving you his signature glare he sat down across from you and kept his eyes on you “Well go on, explain yourself”, “I don’t have the slightest clue of what you’re talking about Thomas, explain what?”, “Why you’re whoring yourself” he slammed his fist on the table, trying hard not to do it again and break the table, if there was any man he could confidently admit that he was afraid to cross was your father, Mr. YLN had been more of a dad to him than his own and was a great disciplinary, the 6”5 former boxer would choke him to death if he messed up his home over something petty, so with that thought in mind he calmed himself down a little.

You chuckled and shook your head, gathering a fork full of eggs and gobbled it down “I’m not laughing YN, does your mum know about this?....AYE?!” You rolled your eyes and placed the fork on the plate, “Tommy, of course my mother knows what I do for a living, she doesn’t approve but-“ “Jesus Christ” “You don’t believe” “Don’t push it”, he hated how calm you were being right now, he had just discovered your dirty little secret and you were calm “I told you about the job YN, I told you that I needed a secretary and-“ “And I told you that office work wasn’t for me” “Oh and spreading your legs for every bum in town is” “If you’d just let me-“ “Explain? I’ve given you plenty of time to do it but you keep playing around like a child”.

His eyes were filled with worry, it wasn’t something that you seen often, he was good at hiding his feelings but you know him well enough that it’s there, you sighed and leaned forward to pick up your purse, you reached inside and pulled out a small vial filled with white powder that he instantly recognized as cocaine, you rolled it over to him and he picked it up before it could fall on the floor, “I have to deliver that to my last client of the day after lunch, for some reason he likes when I put a dash of chilli powder in it, he’s a bit of a psycho” the last part made him laugh and shake his head “I’m not a prostitute Tommy, I’m a drug dealer, sometimes it’s reefer, but my biggest sells are Tokyo, those men that come in and out of my house are looking to play in the snow not my pussy, there are you happy now?”

“Fucking hell...why didn’t you just tell me?” “I thought you’d make a big deal of it, after all it is a dangerous business, had to cut off a client in London because he had a freak out and nearly pushed me off of his balcony” he placed his face in his hands and let out a grunt “I swear you never cease to amaze me” you responded with a clink of your fork to finish up your eggs “Seriously?” “I’m hungry Tom”.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #262

WoW will probably start to take over my life again tomorrow oof so expect surveys to slow down some.

What do you wish people wouldn't call you? The only one I don't really like is Girt calling me "kid." He doesn't mean it in a derogatory way or anything like that; he's just always called me that since I was a high school freshman and he was a senior. Now as an adult that's been through things I don't believe anyone deserves, it's kinda weird but more so frustrating as, regardless of his intentions, I somewhat feel belittled. I've never said anything directly about my discomfort, though, so it's my own fault. I just don't want to make him feel bad for doing it for years lmao. What do people say about your name upon learning it for the first time? They don't say anything; my name is very ordinary. Why did you choose the hair length you have? I have a few reasons. The biggest is because I was just bored of average, long hair, and the fact I was at the time having a very hard time with self-care. My hair would get incredibly knotted to where it was hard to even brush it sometimes. Makes me shiver thinking back on it. For my own sanity and ease, it needed to be gone. Also, with how STUPID hot I get, cutting it all off helped with the weight of my hair (it's v thick) but more importantly how hot it made me it the warm months. Zero regrets chopping it all off, omg. If your hair could be ANY color, what would you pick? At this very moment, I really want silver hair. Do you wish your hair was longer or shorter than it is now? It needs a trim. Do you think you're attractive? (It's okay to say yes =P) No; I think I wouldn't look ALL to bad if I lost some more weight (I've literally been on a weight loss plateau for two fuckin years). When I was perfectly healthy, I didn't think I was very pretty even back then, but now that I look back, I feel I was decently pretty. Not gorgeous, but. What is your favorite band? Ozzy Osbourne. :') What is your favorite movie? The Lion King. The second one is like directly behind it. Finding Nemo is also very precious to me. What is your favorite book or magazine? The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton and Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. What is your favorite song? Ugh, this is impossible. I love way way too many. I suppose maybe... "Death Inc." by Motionless In White? Idk. What is your favorite color to wear? Black, duh. If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go and why? South Africa because I want to spend time with and take pictures at the Kalahari Meerkat Project and especially pet a Whiskers meerkat. I WILL cry. Meerkats literally changed my life. So many people I wouldn't know... If you got the chance and wouldn't get caught, would you cheat on a lover? NOOOOO the guilt though. Someone drops a fifty dollar bill and doesn't notice. Will you tell them? Definitely. I'd feel awful otherwise. Would you ever pierce something on your face? I already have my lip and tongue pierced, and I did have my nostril pierced, too. I want more, particularly an undereye microdermal if I can switch to contacts... which I don't like. I think it'd look pretty dumb with glasses. Are you selfish? EVERYONE should be to a degree depending on the occasion. Doing what is best for you is not a bad thing. Are you mean to people who are different from you? Wow no. I find people "different" from me interesting. Do you make fun of obese people? By the BMI definition, I am one of those people. So take a guess? Do you eat when you're upset? I have to fight that extremely hard, because I usually do experience the impulse to comfort eat when I'm very depressed. I've gotten way better at it, though. What if you had to choose between feeding yourself or feeding your pets? I honestly don't know for sure what I'd do... but I think I would prioritize my pets, honestly. It would break me to watch them suffer and lose weight. What if you saw someone being beaten on the street? YOOOO I READ THIS AS "EATEN" FIRST. But anyway I'd call the cops ASAP. There's a possibility I'd intervene if I felt myself capable of taking on the assailant. What if it was you being beaten? According to the night terrors I've had beyond count, curse like a motherfucker and fight back while calling for help. Who's the most important person to you (related)? Mom. Who's the most important person to you (non-related)? Sara. What's more important to you, happiness or success? Happiness. What's more important to you, your happiness or someone else's? Depends on the person. List the ten most important things to you: Oh, yikes. No order: 1.) My peace of mind, health, and happiness; 2.) my family; 3.) my pets; 4.) my career future; 5.) my friends; 6.) a YouTuber I've never met lmao; 7.) my pebble from my partial hospitalization program; 8.) Teddy's ashes; 9.) the Mark mug Sara gave me sobs; 10.) and the RP site I'm on. Like if it disappeared tomorrow with all the profiles and history and stuff I would break the earth in half oof. Have you ever lived in a mobile home? No. Have you ever had your bedroom in a basement? No. How many times in the past week have you eaten fast food? Hm. I don't think once. In the house - shoes, socks, slippers or bare feet? Bare feet.\ Do you consider dogs inside or outside pets? Usually indoor, depending on the breed and the time of year. What’s your favourite piece of furniture in your house? ig my bed? Have you ever had a crush on a friend’s parent? Yikes no. Do you prefer carbonated or uncarbonated drinks? Sucker for carbonated over here. Favorite thing that you can see up in the sky? A full moon. Would you rather eat at the table or in your room? I'm so used to eating in my room. Do you like the sound of birds singing when you wake up, or is it annoying? I love it. If someone gave you a kitten, would you keep it? I'd love to, but it'd really be my mom's choice. What’s your ideal activity for a rainy day? Nap oh lawd. Favorite type of cracker? Cheez-Its. Banana sandwich... yum or yuck? Only yum with peanut butter. Animal you like to watch but sort of creeps you out: Spiders. Bagels or English Muffins? Bagels. Do you like to daydream about sex? I do it sometimes. Which of your parents do you laugh more with? My dad is really funny. Have you ever been to an open casket wake or funeral? Wake, yes. Who mows the lawn at your house? A family friend. Have you ever written a story from beginning to end? When I was little and was writing that meerkat story, yes. I started on the sequel but didn't get far. What’s a big turn on for you? Being genuinely interested in what makes me me. Actually wanting to know the littlest things about me. Just show sincere interest. Are you doing anything tomorrow? I do know I'm fuckin finally getting my laptop home. Does your car have a name? N/A Do you own clothes from any celebrity clothing lines? No, but a bitch is getting a Cloak shirt or hoodie at some point. Who was the last person you ranted about? My bitch of a cousin for being a disrespectful fuck when all my dying grandmother wants is to talk as a group with the whole family. I ranted to Mom though, not in the group chat because I'm actually mature enough to not talk shit when, again, all our grandma wants is peace and love between us at the end of her life. I was SEETHING. Know any magic tricks? I don't remember any. I LOOOOOVED those magic kits as a kid, though. Is there music in your head right now? Right now "Dirty Pretty" by In This Moment is on, so does that count as "in my head?" Would you like to become a dancer? It'd be very cool, most certainly, and due to taking dance classes so long, I tend to think of potential dances in my head when I hear like... any song, lol. I'd love to be one if I had the grace and endurance + no hyperhydrosis. Name one person of the same sex as you you wouldn't mind doing: Hunny I'm bisexual, there's a lot, lmao. Dream woman? Uhhhh. Maybe my friend Alon. She was like one of my first hints I wasn't straight, lmao. But idk, I find soooo many women to be attractive. What is the most gory film you've seen? One of the Saw movies. What a surprise, ik. Ever fallen down a hole? ZOINKS no. Do you work better in a clean or messy environment? Clean, durr. Do you know any vegans? Only online. Do you like bananas? I am VERY picky with bananas. They have to be perfect. My preferred ripeness lasts only like, two days. .-. What's a film you've seen that confused you? Oh boy, idk. I don't watch many films... especially if I'm confused and the plot isn't great, I'll stop watching. WAIT!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!! I went to see Warcraft when it came out and I was so fuckin lost just because the orcs' voices are so goddamn deep that I just sat there like "uhhhh sir come again????" I didn't play Classic, and I'm not great at remembering every aspect of the plot, so. I'm to this day p confused lmao. Do you ever wear black lipstick? I really only ever wear black. What is next to your bed? I have a white shelf to my left where I put my meds, a drink, the fan... that kind of stuff. My cat's food bowl is to the right of it on the floor. Are your fingernails dirty? Nope. Have you ever fell for someone believing you could "fix" them? Not for that reason, no. Describe a picture of yourself that you hate: LASKJDLKFJAOWJE my friend took a picture of me eating a hot dog once and joked she was putting that shit on Facebook and it was funny as shit but thank Christ she was in fact joking. Would you rather play a good or an evil character in a play? While I'd love to be the evil one, I'd probably make it too cheesy because I am a BAD actress. Has anybody ever lied to you just to impress you? Story of one of my "best" friendships. What's your favourite shade of blue? Baby blue, probs. Can you remember a world before iPods? I do indeed. On rides to school when I sat in the back, I would bring one of those portable CD players with me to play discs. Where did you go on your last date? I can't remember the place's name... Lume's? Something like that? Breakfast place in Illinois. Do people find you "cute"? It happens sometimes. Who does the best remixes? Oh idk, I don't pay much attention to this. Where do you get your news? Facebook, lmao. What social stigma does society need to get over? What DOESN'T it need to get over???? What was the last photo you took? Probably something funny on Facebook to send to Sara lmao. I will get memes to her some way. What mythical creature do you wish actually existed? As badly as I want to say dragons, I don't think it'd be a great idea, heh... Maybe dryads. What are you interested in that most people aren't? As of recently, TARANTULAS. I've fallen in LOVE with them. What's the most ridiculous thing you have bought? No clue. What sounds hit you with major nostalgia every time you hear them? The gem collecting sound from Spyro. It was my text ringtone on my last phone! I need to move it over to my current one. What was the biggest realization you have had about yourself? I was possibly the bigger villain than Jason in the breakup. But idk. What topic could you spend forever talking about? Gay rights. Which way should toilet paper hang, over or under? In the original patent, it was designed as going over. GMM knowledge. Therefore I find over as correct, BUT I ultimately don't care like... at all. I don't even really notice when I go in the bathroom. Are you usually early or late? Usually slightly early. What do you wish you knew more about? Politics so I could be a more helpful member of society alksdjfka;lw What is the most annoying question you've been asked? It's not really like, annoying I guess, but the closest would be just how frequently people see my lip ring and ask if it hurt. It's incredibly sensitive skin, and even if it wasn't, a needle went all the way through it. Like... guess. News flash: being stabbed hurts, lmao. Like I always explain that it's not awful, but duh, there is pain. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Yummm chocolate. What was the worst phase in your life? 2020 thinks it's a bad guy, but lemme tell ya, shit's got nothing on 2016. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? I hate sprinkles on anything. Just an annoying texture with negligible flavor. The last time you went out to eat - what did you order? It was just a milkshake. Do you have all 32 teeth? I'm missing two wisdom teeth that just never grew in. Do you know how to do the moon walk? Never tried. What is one of your favorite comedy movies? White Chicks. Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Yeah. I don't think I do. Onion rings or french fries? Fries. Not an onion ring fan. Who is the best cook that you know? Sara's mom is great, omgggg. She's cooked things I generally don't like yet I wound up enjoying. Can you name 3 different dinosaurs? Let's see: Spinosaurus, stegosaurus, velociraptor. I was a dino kid, man, just gettin' started. *finger guns* What's the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle. What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid? I'd daaaash for the swingset. Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? Ummm I think 6-something pounds? 7? Where do you spend most of your time at? At home. In my bed. Exciting stuff, y'know. What noise does your favorite animal make? If my memory serves me right, they have over 40 vocalizations, but I'd say barking and chirping are the most ordinary/basic. Have you ever fallen in the toilet when you were little? lol I don't think so. What is the best kind of mac & cheese? I'm a basic-ass Velveeta bitch lmao. Who is your favorite oldies band? Boy oh BOY, you're asking a classic rock/metal addict. Of course it's Ozzy tho. But I love soooo many!! What is your favorite farm animal? Pigs! Do you like to play Monopoly? I'm not a big fan, no. What is the most fun restaurant you have ever been to? I like the vibe of Buffalo Wild Wings. Or I just have good memories there. What size bra do you wear? I'm actually not sure. I haven't bought new ones in a while and I don't think the ones I currently have are the right size anyway. Do you have a ceiling fan in your room? No. Who was your favorite Sesame Street character? I don't remember too well, but I think Cookie Monster? What about Muppet? Idr. What was going through your mind during the presidential campaign? I am sadly paying no attention. What do you think of the Duggar family ( 17+ kids )? Could you handle taking care of that many children? Ew, hell no. I don't believe the number of children warranted in a family should be legally monitored, it's much more difficult than that, BUT RATHER I'm very firm about knowing when it's more than enough. Population control is a thing. NOBODY needs that many kids imo, not even close to that. So far, what is the number one, best decision you have ever made? How has it affected your life? Letting go of Jason/accepting life without him. It has made my life much, much brighter and healthier. Have you reunited with any old friends recently? Was it awkward, or just like old times? No. When was the last time you talked to your first ex? February of 2017. Wow... been a long time. How different is your online personality from your offline personality? I am MUCH more outgoing and talkative online. What are your favorite holiday-themed movies? Jim Carrey's How The Grinch Stole Christmas, Hocus Pocus, The Nightmare Before Christmas, etc... Do you listen to Christmas/winter-themed music when the season comes around? No. Is there anything that you do that’s potentially controversial? Yes. What is your most recent obsession? Most recent, whew, tarantulas. I'm really gonna try talking Mom into letting me get one when/if we move. Do you say “merry Christmas” or “happy holidays”? To you, does it really matter which one is said/you say? Do you do your best to remain politically correct? Instinctually, I say "merry Christmas;" that's what has always been said around me. I personally see zero problem in calling it whatever... Like just appreciate someone wishing you well. You get the concept, and that's all you really need imo. As for political correctness, I'm kinda... down the middle? Like I feel it's been taken way, way too far, but I see some caution in wording as wise. If you could relive one week of your life, which would it be, and why? Would you do anything differently, or keep it all the same? Ugh, my first visit at Sara's. I just loved it so, so much. I think I wouldn't change a thing. It felt perfect. Is there a part of your life you wish you could remember, but can’t? Sometimes when I take these surveys and they ask "how old were you when...", ha ha. Frustrates me. What was the last thing/event to trigger a painful memory? It was last night, actually. The Final Fantasy VII remake is out, and I started watching a YouTuber I like play it. Jason got me to play the original, playing it a lot when we spent time together, but I only got a bit beyond half-way through before my PS3 broke. Cherished memories, so it was decently triggering indeed. I loved the game though and ABSOLUTELY want to see it played out in its entirety, so I shoved past the pain and am glad I did. Now I'm anxiously awaiting the next video aljkdsjfawe Y'ALL I wanna play more FF. What do you think of people that choose not to vote? I can't say anything, seeing as I never have voted before... Are you keeping anything from the people you love? Nothing important, no. Have you ever written a suicide note, whether joking or not? Yes, and that stupid novel is one of my biggest regrets. Who the FUCK would joke about that, though. When was the last time you let something ‘go to your head’? Not even like an hour ago. This happens allllll the time. When are you most likely to show off? Maaan Guitar Hero used to be good for that shit, ha ha. I was an expert at that back in its day. I haven't played it in forever, and on the rare occasion I do, I am suuuper rusty. Which would you prefer: spectacular view of the ocean, or of the mountains? MOUNTAINS!!!!!! Do you follow any dating rules/play any dating games? No. When was the last time you felt extremely confident about something? ME????????? CONFIDENT???????????? WHAT A CONCEPT!!!!!!!!!! When was the last time you blew the seeds off of a dandelion? Wow, not a clue. Probably not since we lived at my old house and I would go on walks down the path. What was the last thing that happened that you couldn’t explain? Oh I dunno. What do you do with all of your spare change? I just keep it in my wallet. Where did you hear about your all-time favorite band? He was and still is one of my mom's favorites! How many cans of soda do you drink in a day? AHHHHHH soda is my biggest nutritional weakness. I refuse to let myself drink more than one a day now though. It's funny and disgusting, when I was HEALTHY AND SKINNY I could on a rare occasion start a fourth can in a single day. Nowadays the thought almost makes me shiver. What is the oldest thing that you own? and the newest? The oldest thing, ummm. Not sure. Probably a stuffed animal in the attic. I just got two new books today! Is there anything you wish you had never found out about? Yep. A number of things. What is something that you refuse to believe in? Astrology. What is something you wish more people believed in? Gay rights. What food is your ultimate comfort food? Ice cream. Have you ever put anything inside a time capsule? What? OMGGGG I remember doing this in elementary school as a class! I don't recall what was in it, though. Is there too much violence on tv, or are people to sensitive? Too sensitive, but also negligent. It's got a lot to do with raising, imo. Don't show kids wild shit at too young of an age, and when they are shown this kind of stuff, you make it obvious that the behavior/content is unacceptable irl. Entertainment is not responsible for someone's shitty actions made with their own volition. What is something you used to fear, but no longer do? My first huge fear was thunderstorms. Now I enjoy them lol. Do you think it’s important to know a 2nd language? Not mandatory, no. Especially depends on if you're going anywhere. Do you know anyone that’s just naturally good at almost everything? My old friend Hannia IMMEDIATELY came to mind. She was the best in class GPA-wise, first chair for flute in band, and just in general STUPID talented. Do you know anyone that’s just bad at everything? BITCH ME What is one emoticon you use often? A sarcastic :^) or <3 What is one emoticon you almost never use? A lot, particularly ones with equal signs for eyes.

[benmyjet]

Rewind (Lucy Boynton x Reader Fic)

Pairing: Lucy Boynton x Reader (modern university time frame)

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Despite your pre-existing judgement, you find yourself being pulled towards your new neighbor.

AN: Hi!! This is my first fic ever and I plan for it to be a multi-chapter one! This first part is just more of an expose of reader and lucy’s relationship, you’ll see more of their dynamic (and angst 😈) in the next chapter 🥂I’m baby and a beginner so please let me know your thoughts and ways to improve!

~~~~*~~~~

Coming back home from the first year of uni was like entering the real world after 12 years of solitary confinement. Fresh food from a stove rather than a water heated metal dish. A plush queen bed with natural daylight from your room to prick your eyelids rather than the squeaky twin size mattress that you find yourself waking on top of after the boys down the hall set off the smoke alarms for vaping. Again… 

Perhaps the only con to coming back home was all the old retired foggies that surround you. It was refreshing but lonesome after living among the hoards of young adults that don’t know what to do with their lives. Not to mind though, it was sound sleeping for you without any loud music.

“Y/N!” Your mother calls from downstairs.

“Y/N!”

With the exception of your mother.

You roll off your bed. Glancing in the glass reflection of a picture frame, you don’t look too hot. Your skin greasy from sleep and the acne creams that you applied the night before. 

“What mum?” You drawled as you plopped down the stairs, sitting on the last step

“Look! The new family who bought the house is moving in. They hauled three bookcases out the truck already.” 

Out of the passenger side of the truck popped out a girl with mid length brownish hair. Her frame quickly ducking out of view so she could enter the house.

Your mother continues“She seems like your age, you think she’s from your university?” 

You peer again trying to get a glimpse. Her hair now tied sloppily in a bun as she picks up one of the boxes. You peer down to see an all girls college shirt covering her whole frame. Mary Scott University.

It may have been just your own prejudice or your jealousy of someone so effortlessly beautiful but you didn’t see any hope in the new girl on the street. 

“Jesus Christ” you glance at your mom

“What?”

“She goes to that all girls school—“

“It’s not a bad school Y/N, your dad’s cousin went there-“

“And look where she ended up! She dropped out of dentistry school and is making jewelry for a living!”

“Y/N, don’t judge people so quickly, how do you even make friends in school?”

Annoyed, you bulged your eyes out. In a normal school not an all girls school where they wait til marriage for someone to sexually awaken them.. you thought.

You take one last look at the new movers and retreat to your bedroom. Under the covers you can only find yourself thinking about the new girl.

~~~~*~~~~

The next day your mom calls you down again with more gusto and a sweeter tone.

Interesting… Only until you can hear an unfamiliar voice downstairs you assume there could be some visitors. 

“Yeah, hold on!” You yell out as you try to fix your appearance. You tie your hair up and pull down your night shorts from under your large shirt.

You walk across the catwalk to see below your mom talking to the new girl on the front porch.

She was dressed in a racer back tank top and athletic shorts with a tennis racket bag strapped to one shoulder.

Shit shit shit shit shit!

Your first impression isn’t gonna be strong or even on the same level of confidence that she exudes. Her sweet smile shows off her pristine white teeth. Damn, when was the last time you did a whitening strip?

Her gaze finds yours and you start to feel your hands clam up a little.

Her bright eyes beam and cheeks lift up . “Hi! I’m Lucy!” she says with a small wave 

Your lingering gaze on the way her top hugs her waist is cut short from your mother.

“Y/N, could you walk Lucy to the tennis courts?“

The tennis courts were the first thing that anyone could see when they entered the neighborhood. Right next to the clubhouse and playground adjoined to it. Not too hard to find. But with your mother’s hard smile and urging eyes, you can tell she wanted to make a good impression.

“Uh yeah! Sure let me just-”

“Please don’t go out wearing that.”

“I know ma- I’m gonna go change-”

“Wear something nice—”

“I got it!”

As you see Lucy smile a little bit, you give a flash a teeth before you dash up the stairs in a frenzy to find anything cute. A whole tennis outfit at noon, God she really is Mary Scott material... You suffice for a college T and jean shorts as everything else was either sweaty and stained. You pick off the toothpaste stain on your shirt the best you can before you run downstairs , hearing your mom drawl how you’re not as active as you were before.

“Okay mom you can stop talking about how I’m a glob of fat now.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow at the toothpaste stain and as she raises her hands to examine it you swat it away

You glance at Lucy and give her a big grin “Okay, let’s go!”

~~~~*~~~~

As you both walk out of your front yard to the trail to the recreation area you turn to Lucy.

“So it’s Lucy? Right?”

She grins, “Yeah, and is it Y/N? Am I saying that right?”

“Yeah! You’re good.”

She cocks her head to your shirt. You suddenly feel more aware of the toothpaste stain. 

“So.. you go to Baker’s?

“Yeah! Are you in uni yet?”

“Yeah, I go to Mary Scotts.”

“Kind far from here isn’t it?”

“We used to live a bit further, like 5 hours away so I’m happy for some closer storage for all my college shit.”

Thank fucking god! You curse! I don’t have to watch my tongue.

You and Lucy continue to cycle about and discuss normal college student ice breakers. Despite what you thought, all girls college doesn’t seem that bad, There’s a mix of students in Mary Scott’s area with the other universities nearby. 

“So what’s fun around here?” Lucy asks “Besides the elusive tennis courts you’re taking me to.”

You begin to say something but close your mouth and furrow your brows in deep thought. Lucy chuckles as you draw your mouth in a thin line.

“Honestly… I can’t really say. Most of the neighborhood is just older people, but even when I had friends around we just drove around spending money on food. Was it the same where you used to live?”

“ Not really. We lived more out of the suburbs and I had a few friends around. We mostly just sat around my attic and gossiped”

“Gossiping is the universal binding for all teenagers with nothing to do”

Lucy gave a small chuckle to that and you both fell into silence. You start to overthink what you just said. 

Does she think I’m some vapid image obsessed person? Does she think I’m boring? Ffffuckkk Y/N why do you have to be so weird- Your thinking is interrupted as you reach the courts and Lucy turns to you

“Do you.. uhm do you wanna play with me? I was just planning to practice against the wall but I brought my other racket. Not that this was my plan all along ! But that I sometimes bring two just to kinda feel it out until I’m in a groove or whatever…”

Ahh so she’s nervous too. 

“Nah I understand and yeah! But just to warn you I have ZERO hand-eye coordination.”

Lucy smiles and pulls off a corded hair tie from her wrist and hands it to you, “Do you wanna tie up your hair?” 

You smile and nod and flip your head upside down to gather your strands together between the cords. 

After 10 minutes of playing tennis, only one round ending in a very successful back and forth, you both sat down on the court together rolling the ball back and forth with your rackets. 

 Lucy laughed at your jokes and you laughed at hers. With each time you mention the becomings of an inside joke you see her eyes crinkle and a full toothed smile emerge from her face. 

“Have you moved in completely?”, you ask.

“No, not really, like I still have my clothes to fold and books to organiz-”

“ ...and you came out here to play tennis?”

She rolled her eyes and grinned “ I have all summer to move in” 

“ and then move back in for university” you pause for a moment “Do you need any help? I’m very experienced with placing books upright and folding fabric into 4 sided shapes”

Lucy turns and lifts her brows, “ I don’t know in my house we can only fold our linens into 7 sided heptagons… but I suppose we can use your lifting for the piles of books we have”

She glances at your arms.

“Put those arms to work”

You scrunch your face together and glance between her and your arms. 

“Okay! I get it! So you have all summer to move in and I have all summer to build up my guns.”

Lucy face turns to worry “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that, you have nice arms Y/N that’s what I am trying to say”

“Aw, well these babies only come out when I’m picking up like Cheerios from my floor. And after failing to hit your throws for like 2 hours.”

“Yeah you really weren’t lying about coordination”

“Hey! I can do other things”

“Elaborate?” 

You begin to speak with confidence but it falters as you can’t seem to find anything worth bragging about. Until...

“You know what, I’ll show you, whenever you want at your house”

“Okay,” Lucy pauses “are you doing anything tomorrow”

“Might be busy with another girl from Mary Scott university beating my ass in tennis but I’ll push her aside just for you” 

Lucy scoffs “ Okay, so maybe 12?”

“That’s when I wake up”

“1?”

“You know let me just give you my number and you give me a wake up call.”

“God, you are true Baker’s material.”

 Seeing as the sky was turning pink, you and Lucy returned to your street, earning a few bug bites on the way back.

“Welp, it was nice to meet you Lucy, I’ll see you later”

You reach your arm out for a hand shake.

But Lucy’s arm invited you into a small hug, a distance between both your chests. You were a little stunned, but wrapped your arms around her anyways. Lucy parted first, with a “Bye Y/N” and a small smile. You couldn’t quite place the small jump in your stomach when she said your name. Turning around you walked back into your house, hoping she’ll remember to call you tomorrow.

~~~~*~~~~

AN: ty for reading and let me know your thoughts! I’ll be posting the next part in two days!

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 14

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, VERY light violence, a wee bit o fluff

A/N:  I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING LATE. Work has been... a lot... and I was so far ahead for so long aaaaand then I wasn’t all the sudden. SO yeah, very very sorry but I hope you enjoy this. 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight  @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere  @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

November 2006

Somehow the landing was worse than the takeoff. You hold your head between your knees for a minute once the movement has stopped to be sure you can keep it together.

“Sorry, was that a little rough,” Agent Hill asks smugly staring down at you.

You glare at her, “I’d like my weapons back now.”

“Not how this is going to work,” she’s standing with her arms crossed obviously waiting for something.

“Oh? How is this going to work?”

“You’re going to play along, and-”

“Hill,” Clint says with a stern tone, “come on, cut it out.”

She throws him a look, “Fine. I got her here I’m done.” With that, she storms out of the jet.

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure no one has ever so outwardly hated me in my life.”

“She’s not so bad. This whole situation is… unorthodox and she’s not entirely a fan of it,” he pulls a duffel out of a locker slinging it over his shoulder.

“Or me.”

He laughs a bit, “Well, you’re not exactly on the up and up.”

“That’s an understatement,” you watch as he pulls a compact bow out of another compartment and a quiver. “My less than kosher activities don’t seem to bother you though.”

He looks back at you, “People do what they have to in order to get by. I understand that.” He walks to the ramp, “You comin’?” You bolt grabbing your bag and follow him.

When you step out into the blinding fall day you’re surprised to see the farmhouse Clint’s memories showed you in the distance. The glare of the day and the shock of the location mean you’re not paying attention. Something slams into the middle of your chest and an electric shock rocks your whole body, not enough to knock you out but enough to take your breath and footing away. You hit the ground hard.

As your eyes clear Clint is kneeling next to you, a sharp arrow point pressed to your jugular so hard you’re scared to swallow.

“Threaten my family again and I’ll put an arrow in your fuckin’ eye. We clear?” His words are menacing but there’s a grin on his lips. He means what he’s saying but this is more a gesture to even the playing field, to let you know he’s not someone to trifle with either. In this moment you decide you like him quite a lot.

“Crystal,” you parrot his former response back.

“Good,” he holds out a hand and you stand, dusting grass off your jeans.

“Y/N!” Whip fast your gaze shoots in the direction of the house.

There she is in jeans and a plain black tee. Framed by the quaint farmhouse and blue sky… it’s the most beautiful image you’ve ever seen. She is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Leaving your bag and all safety concerns behind you bolt toward her. Emotion blocking any words from escaping your mouth.

At the halfway point you careen into one another. It’s not some picturesque moment where you spin in one another’s arms. No, your collision causes you both to fall to the ground laughing, crying, arms desperately reaching to hold.

“I love you,” you croak before her lips crush the words away. You hold her face between your hands and pull her away, “I. Love. You. Natasha.”

“I love you too,” she says, tears streaming out of her eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t,” she shuts you up with a kiss that knocks you to your back. When she pulls away there’s nothing but blue sky and her smiling face above you. You take a mental picture of this moment. You’ll keep it forever.

Moving her hair behind her ears you pull her face back to yours and kiss her sslowly savoring the feeling of her lips and the taste of her mouth. You were pretty certain you’d never see heaven but that didn’t matter because you had her here on earth.

“If you two wanna fuck on the lawn just say the word and the rest of us can wait inside,” Clint quips as he walks by you.

Natasha laughs, “Don’t tempt me, Barton.” She sits back and watches as he walks to the porch and embraces the brunette woman. The feeling of peace coming from her is new. She trusts him.

You grab her hand and she looks back at you. Giving it a squeeze she stands, “Come on, let’s go inside.”

You’re about to say that you need to grab your bag but when you look back it’s gone. A thud on the porch draws your eye and you notice Clint grabbed it for you. He embraces the woman, kissing her deeply. You can’t help but smile. Hill, you note, is nowhere to be seen.

Hand in hand you and Natasha approach the house. The woman pulls away from Clint, laughing and slapping at his chest. She walks down the stairs of the porch to meet you.

“Hi!” Her smile is big and welcoming, nothing but kindness rolling off her. “I’m Laura. It’s great to meet you,” she extends a hand.

“Likewise,” you take it, “Y/N.”

“I’ve got fresh coffee inside,” Laura turns and heads in.

The house is warm, the smells of coffee and cinnamon fill the air. You were expecting the sparse feel of a safe house. This is no safe house, this is a home. Family photos, knickknacks, and other personal touches are everywhere.

As you and Natasha follow Laura and Clint inside, a shrill cry makes you jump. Natasha bursts out laughing as she points to the bassinet in the living room. You weren’t expecting this inviting home when you got in the jet a few hours ago and you sure as shit weren’t expecting a baby.

“I got him,” Clint kisses Laura’s cheek and heads over. He coos as he picks up the small squirming bundle. “Daddy’s back little man.”

Nat tugs you toward the kitchen and you follow. Agent Hill sits at the table beside a man who isn’t in need of an introduction. Nick fucking Fury, Christ…You freeze, shooting a glance at Natasha as she takes a seat. Her hand reaches out to you but you don’t move.

“What is this?” Your tone is frigid.

“This is afternoon coffee,” Laura brings a cup to the table. “And this is coffee cake,” she sets down a plate filled with the source of the mouthwatering cinnamon smell.

She smiles at you, “You’ve got no reason to believe this I know, but you’re safe here, Y/N. You’re a guest, so are they. Sit down, have some coffee and cake.” The sincerity comes off of her in waves. When Clint passes the baby to her you can feel the surge of protective energy rise in her too. She’s a good woman. You would trust her… but the others.

Natasha’s eyes are pleading and you give in, taking her hand and sitting at her side on the bench. Her hand squeezes yours. For a second you study her face, reading her for any sign of fear, distrust, anything that may indicate this being a trap. There’s nothing of the sort just love, happiness, exhaustion, relief.

“So, Oracle,” Fury’s low voice sounds like a bomb in the calm space.

Your eyes drag to his, “That’s not my name.” You try to read him but he’s shut you out completely. A grey area.

His lips tick up a bit as if he knows what he’s doing. “Alright. I’m Nick Fury-”

“Yeah, caught that. You’re not exactly inconspicuous with the patch and all.”

He inclines his head a touch in acknowledgment of his signature look. “And your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, what?”

“Just, Y/N.” His eyes narrow. You chuckle a bit, “Look, I’m not bein’ difficult. I just don’t have a last name, never did.”

“That’s interesting,” he takes a sip of coffee.

You shrug, “Not really.”

Silence hangs. Awkwardly. You drink the coffee and make it through half a slice of cake before your can’t take it.

“Alright, someone start talkin’,” you look around lingering on Nat who suddenly won’t make eye contact. “I mean I could just walk around and pull the story from y’all but I think you’d rather just tell me.”

Clint sighs, “Well, short version is Fury sent me to kill the Widow. I made a different call. Here we are.” You cast Fury a murderous stare and he simply shrugs confirming Clint’s summary.

“Why?”

“Too much red in my ledger…” Natasha’s voice is low.

You turn to her, “You did inform them that wasn’t-”

“Yes,” Fury cuts you off, “She told us all about the Children’s Hospital. We believe her, unfortunately, there’s no way to prove it. And regardless she was involved.” He takes a long drink and you genuinely consider how hard it would be to kill the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“That was more a final straw,” the look he gives Nat isn’t cruel but you bristle all the same. “We’ve been watching her for a while. Someone that good, well she’s a threat…” His eyes bore into you, “As are you, but we can’t link a damn thing to you to prove that.”

You can’t help the smirk filling your face, “I like to keep my hands clean.” Hill snorts eyes rolling. “Honestly, if you have something to say-”

“Don’t,” Natasha’s hand squeezes yours tight.

“I’m not the one with an obvious issue,” you look to Nat, hoping for support but she looks away. “No…” You let the contact with her open a channel to her thoughts. “Natasha, you aren’t…”

“It’s a good offer,” Fury doesn’t seem phased by your obvious reading of her thoughts. He looks to Clint, “And Barton has volunteered to sponsor Ms. Romanoff.”

“What the fuck is this AA? Honey-”

“It was my choice, babe,” she finally meets your eyes.

You try to find the answer to your question but come up empty, “So what? Trade one leash for another or they kill you? That’s not a choice,” your voice is raising along with your anxiety.

“You’re right,” Clint says from your left, “and that’s not how we do things.”

“I could retire, go off the radar, they’d protect me in exchange for information,” you feel a flicker of despair in her, “but… I wanna make this shit right, Y/N… everything I’ve done…” She turns a bit toward you, “That’s what they offered me, a chance to make right, do something decent for a change. Maybe… maybe help people.”

“Clint seems to think there’s more to the Widow than what the world’s seen so far, I trust his gut,” Fury gives the man a soft smile. Hill hands Fury a file and he slides it across the table to you. The tab reads “Oracle- High Risk.” Your eyes dig into him.

“Enhanced mental abilities, empath, telepathy, possibly other unknown psionic abilities.” A tremor shakes you, Natasha’s hand moves to your thigh, attempting to ground you. “Origin unknown, possible connection to the Lafitte crime syndicate,” you bristle, “other affiliations unknown. High risk of security breech.”

“Almost right, no connections to Lafitte though,” you stare Fury down. his brows raise and he smirks.

“No?” He flips the file open and points to a photo of you at 14 next to Remmy Lafitte, the head of the family and a prominent figure in your own nightmares, his hand on your shoulder. Your stomach flips. “That looks like a connection to me. Hill?”

“Close connection,” she sneers.

Rage boils under your skin, “I wouldn’t call being someone’s slave a connection. Would you, Agent?” Silence falls as you look at the members around the table. Hill looks away, Laura looks disgusted, Clint and Fury have surprisingly understanding expressions, and Nat… well she knew it all.

“Can we get to the point?” You slam the file closed. “You got some decent info on me, more than I suspected, but that’s not really shocking all things considered. Given your status, I gotta assume my presence is more than a courtesy to Natasha.”

“Not a courtesy at all,” he stands and grabs the coffee pot. He offers everyone some and refits mugs while he speaks, “This is an offer, same as we gave your girl here. Come work for us, wipe the slate clean, maybe even do a little good.”

“Ah,” you try once more to read him and come back with nothing. “And I assume this agreement has no strings such as medical tests and the like attached?”

He catches your drift, “Nothing beyond the usual.” He takes a seat, “Look, we saw this as an opportunity to bring someone with your… unique skill set on board. There are threats out there bigger than you can imagine, the more prepared we are, the better. Someone who can suss out threats in our own ranks… Well, that’s a valuable asset.”

“If I decline?” You can feel tension radiate off Natasha.

“What can we do?” He shrugs sipping his coffee, “You keep doing what you do. When you fuck up we will deal with you.” His eyes slide to Natasha.

“Hill, would be more likely to take me out,” she throws daggers at you, “just an observation.”

Fury actually laughs at this, “You’re probably right there.” He sighs, “You have until tomorrow at 17:00 to make a call.”

“What’s the catch?” Natasha’s hand moves away from your thigh. Oh. She’s the catch.

You turn to her, silently begging her to look at you and tell you that your assumption is wrong… She doesn’t, just stares into her coffee.

“While we don’t usually control who our agents interact with this is a… special case. If you chose to remain a… free asset,” Fury seems to note the poor choice of words given your previous statement, “for lack of a better term, any contact with you would be considered a breech of international security.”

A storm swells in your chest. Tingles start on your skin and you take a few deep breaths willing yourself to calm down. “What happens at 17:00 tomorrow?”

“They’re taking me to S.H.I.E.L.D. for processing and on boarding,” Nat practically whispers.

“The Bartons have been kind enough to harbor Ms. Romanoff while we sort out this… unorthodox situation. Now that a decision has been made we need to move quickly.” Fury finishes his coffee.

“We will leave you to make your choice. Laura,” he offers a genuine smile to her, “thank you for the hospitality, as always.”

“Of course,” she gives him a smile back, though you seem to feel she’s not a fan of what’s just transpired.

With that Hill and Fury head out, Clint follows with promises to be right back. Suddenly the warm space feels suffocating. Natasha touches your hand and you recoil.

“I need some air,” you bolt up, “can I,” you gesture to a door off the kitchen.

Laura stands, her son sleeping in her arms, “Yeah, that’ll take you out back. Do you need any-”

“No, thank you,” you rush out, feeling like you’re about to combust.

[alrightinbed-betterwithapen]

Clever Little Things — Part Two — David Dobrik x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: this came flying outta me because I’m engulfed in this series. I hope y’all are loving this as much as I am! Thanks anon you da best!!

Summary: When is there not a problem for (Y/N)?

——

Everything was going good when Jason lets you know he’s going with Trisha and David back to Boston and Chicago for a 10 day period. You’d understood when you took the job there would be some travel weekends, but 10 days seemed excessive and you were wondering why you even needed to be there with wi-fi being a thing. Jason explained how vlogs become super up in the air while traveling. Things change, opportunities arise and it’s easier when all three of them can edit together. He also lets you know it is excessive and you can totally skip out on this one.

But here’s the catch, Jason also wanted you to edit for Trisha’s vlogs during the trip. (Which isn’t hard at all. You’d watched a few of her vlogs at this point and the cuts were lazy and extremely simple.) There’s a thirty five hundred dollar bonus in it and everything will be paid for. You agree too quickly, hungry for the money. And a couple paid trips.

You could deal with Trisha and David for that period. No problem.

——

There is always a problem.

——

It’s not an unpleasant journey out to Boston. Everything is chill. You’d already pieced the first half of Jason’s next vlog together and Trisha would give you footage to edit two days after you settled in. You really had nothing to do except enjoy the flight.

You were sat next to Joe, he was David’s addition camera/assistant editor? Joe explained he helped bounce ideas off David but didn’t actually edit any of the footage unless it was adding music over pre-cut material and then giving back to Dave for finally touches. What a fucking control freak, you can’t help thinking. Joe’s such a cool guy, you don’t know how he put up with that. But he seemed chipper while explaining, it didn’t seem like he cared. It blew your mind.

The flight is half over when you notice someone sit in the seat Joe had left a few moments ago, and it wasn’t Joe. David plopped down next to you, looking jazzed, on the edge of the seat brimming with energy. You pull your headphones off and use all the professionalism in you to not roll your eyes.

“So... you got my apology?” He starts, smiling at you with all the charm he’s got.

“Yeah, I did. Did you realize there wasn’t actually an apology anywhere in there? Cause I did,” you tell him, looking back to the phone screen, unimpressed with his presence.

He scoffs, like a sitcom character.

“Seriously? That’s how it’s going to be? I’m trying to play nice with you and this is what I get?” he implores, amusement in his tone instead of the disdain his words held. You don’t look up from your phone.

“I mean, what did you want from me? I don’t play anything. You don’t have to be nice to me, you can just be professional,” you explain, dragging your eyes to his deflated form in the seat. It makes you smirk, “We work together, David. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, it sure seems like it,” he snipes at you, becoming defensive all of a sudden. He’s sitting back up and turning to you when he asks, “Why don’t you like me? Besides the texting. You obviously have a problem with me.”

You click your phone shut and turn properly to him, mirroring his stance. You bore through him, contemplating your next sentence while he squirms in his seat. The smirk doesn’t leave your face, and you can tell David is uncomfortable with the way your demeanor had changed.

“I don’t know, but what I do know is I never told anyone we work with that. So, it’s purely gossip at this point,” you challenged, “But, I think the better question is why does it bother you?”

David looks slightly appalled, you don’t know if it’s your words or the question at hand. It makes you feel smug though, you’re getting to him.

“Why does everyone have to like you? And why do you care if they don’t?”

He just stares blankly until you lean back in your seat, slip on your headphones and pull the screen back to your face, letting him clearly know the conversation is over.

He doesn’t leave for another minute.

——

“What the fuck?! Why? Why does she hate me this much?” David’s babbling to Jason as they run out to grab food to bring back to the hotel. Jason can’t help the giddy laughter that pours out of him. He’s never seen a person David couldn’t charm, he’s also never seen it eat at the man like it is now. Jason loves David, but he always thought the man needed to be brought down a peg to keep his head. Success as thick and swift as David’s can ruin people if they’re not brought down to earth every once and awhile. And Jason’s mostly amused it’s his editor.

“I don’t know man, but if she’s not going out of her way to be a bitch, then-,” he’s starting before being cut off by David.

“She’s not going out of her way, but she’s there, engrained into our work lives, actively disliking me. Like, how the fuck am I suppose to deal with that,” he stressed, gripping at his hair in the passenger seat of their rental.

“Jesus Christ! It’s moments like these I’m reminded you’ve never worked a real job a day in your life! You’ve never had to deal with a co-worker that hates you, huh? Well, take it from me; if she’s not actively trying to ruin your career, leave it the fuck alone. You can function without it being a big deal,” Jason’s lecturing, eyes flicking from the stressed man to the street.

“Yeah, well she kinda accurately pin pointed that it really fuckin’ bothers me when people dislike me. So, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” David’s rolling his eyes, brow furrowed.

“Wait, she said that to you?”

“Yeah dude, she was spitting all kinds of venom. I didn’t even know how to respond. I just left.”

“Damn, Trish is right. She is a bad bitch,” Jason’s chuckling, looking over at the man who had grown quiet. “That didn’t actually bother you, did it?”

“I mean, no? Like, I already knew that about myself, but it fucked me up to hear it from someone I barely know, ya know?” David explains, biting on the skin of his thumb. He looks confused in the seat, nervous.

“You gotta let this go, Dave.”

And he knows Jason is right. He does need to let it stop eating at him, and he decides he will as their parking at the restaurant to pick up their food.

——

He doesn’t. David is devoured whole.

——

David knocks at your door at 11:45 in the night. You’re up and adding to Jason’s vlog, and you’re not blown away by the fact he’s here. You have footage of bits he needs for his next vlog, and he can let you know about stuff you can and can’t use. Jason and Trisha were doing the hometown date night thing, leaving the two of you to work. It made more sense to work together, but you always get sucked into willing solitude when you edit. David invited himself over.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. You’re stretched out on the window sill in your room, large and comfy enough to sit with your headphones perched lopsided, one ear out to hear the man if he starts speaking. David was laying on the bed closest to the window, playing his vlog out loud in the room.

It’s inexplicable why you don’t tell him when you finish editing and start doing some coding side work for a friends website. He doesn’t need to be here after that, but you tell yourself you get sucked into your work with a sound track of The Weeknd and IDKHOW playing through your computer.

It’s almost three am when you notice David standing beside you, looking at your screen.

“You’re a web developer?” He asks astonished, you can’t help but scowl at that. You’re brought back from your little happy place to this placating bullshit?

“Yeah, a girl can totally have two jobs in the same field that she kicks ass at. I don’t know,” you challenge as he backs up, your tongue getting ready for the kill, “I suppose I just don’t understand people who can fulfill their lives completely with editing. It really is a simple, mediocre skill at best. I gotta do something to not get bored. How’s your four minute video coming? You’ve been working on it for, what? Two days now. I guess you wouldn’t understand,” you are straight up sneering at the man, having fully risen from your seated position in the midst of your tirade.

David looks so taken aback before a fire alights behind his deep brown eyes, taking in your sharp words. He looks so furious, he’d stopped backing up, hands turning to fists at his sides. You are briefly thinking he might honest to god hit you, striking a deep nerve with the usually unwavering man. You’re too busy staring and contemplating this to stop him from lunging forward at you, hands jutting forward to grab your face.

You expect something painful, but you get David’s chapped lips surging onto your own, hands tilting your face upwards. It’s rough and heavy, his tongue immediately going to lick at your lips. You can’t move in that moment, your eyes had slipped shut at the first touch of his fingers to your skin. You were floored, chest tightening with excitement and a flush going through your body. You were absolutely okay with this and that was surprising.

He’d noticed your lack of reaction and is going to pull back when you reach out and ball your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer to you and opening your mouth for him in one movement. The groan he lets out is kind of intoxicating and has you pressing up into the kiss, fighting for dominance while trying to bite at his lips. His hands slip to hold your throat, fingers shockingly gentle on your skin and you take the opportunity to suck David’s lip into your mouth and bite down. You draw out another groan from him, a mewling, harsh sound that’s interrupted by a loud knocking on the door to your hotel room.

You’re both instantaneously reeling back from one another, eyes wide and jerking from the source of the noise to the other person.

What the fuck?

——

There was always a problem.

——

[jlf23tumble]

I’ve been waiting for this episode all week, and let me just say, I was NOT disappointed, and the fact that it carries into tomorrow? BRING IT (it’s a garbage show aimed at getting viewers, period, and everyone wants Louis, so ipso facto, if you love him, consider it manna from hell). This one’s for @newleafover​ and @justlarried​, as per usual, but you have no excuses for not watching: it’s a solid 22 minutes of Louis and his team, so go bathe in it, and come yell!

We start with the groups, which is just as well because they’re boring and terrible, but it’s over quickly, so look at it like a shitty appetizer at a decent restaurant. Sure, the bread’s cold and stale, but you KNOW your main course will kick its ass, so you tolerate it. This = same.

These poor British people just want to get sunburned in Santa Monica, but instead, they’re sunburned in…the Hollywood Hills? Meanwhile, I had no clue Take That was so goddamned lucrative:

Ayda randomly walks through the sloppiest bbq footage in celebrity history, but my fave part of Robbie’s house is Robbie’s late-80s Elton John resort wear, I mean, WANT, especially the shorts:

Robbie’s guest judge is David Walliams, who I remember from “Little Britain” and trashy British tabs but who was allegedly voted best celebrity judge in the UK (or so Robbie explains; it makes zero sense otherwise).

God, the groups bore me, so suffice it to say, they all perform, all the white ones are VERY sunburned, and Jesus loves me because not only is Dermot in a fitted striped tee, but he’s in shorts, too, bless:

The good news is that David reveals that this really IS Robbie’s house (assuming you trust him). The bad news is that most of his advice boils down to, “You’ve gotta concentrate on the thing that you can do that nobody else can do because that's the thing that makes you special.” Such wisdom!

But they seem to love each other, even though the banter makes me both ??? and !!!! (David: “They don't quite know who they are yet.” Robbie: “Like me and my sexuality”).

After a night presumably spent deliberating the terrible singing while Dermot lurks and whispers in the backyard, a new day dawns in the Hills, and Robbie puts on a shirt that includes both bananas and flames:

In the end, the full choir is in (whut), A Star is in (OF COURSE, they could be signed tomorrow), Panda and Burgundy are out (for ~reasons that don’t have anything to do with what was said to them), Misunderstood is in (Dermot tells them that he can’t wait to see them live, and they say they “can’t wait to see youuuuuu” as Dermot blushes giddily), Sweet Sense (Spice Girls lite) is out (probably because they murdered One Direction’s “History”), and Vibe 5 (featuring the son of Heath Ledger and Harry Styles) is in, even though they’re weak sauce.

Thank Christ that’s over, and we get to go to Spain—I still laff and laff about this being Louis’s pick over the rest of SoCal, but I love the contrast we get here, with Louis immediately joining his team and engaging in all kinds of bonding activities (his Mario Kart experience finally pays off, lol).

Comrade Louis even breaks bread with the crew in a big group dinner that vaguely feels like an ad for Spain’s tourism board and/or high-end outdoor furniture. He describes being put in a group as his best memory from the show, and it feels like he’s giving that same experience to his team.

Is it cold in Spain? Is it hot? Everyone’s wearing long pants and even jackets/sweaters (including Nile and Liam), but all the white boys are sunburned as all get out.

Anthony freaking out upon meeting Nile and Liam is all of us really. God, just hearing Liam and Louis mildly bicker is such a gale wind of fresh air:

Dermot is lurking in the background as the judges get to work, Dalton being first, and he smiles nervously as he says he’s just “chilling with half of One Direction and a legend.” Nile is a fucking DELIGHT as well as being a legend (stop, don’t call him that). I have no idea how often they hang out, but these two, sighhh, just come hang out on my patio already:

Suffice it to say that all three of these judges give impeccable feedback, and Louis delivers powerful hugs (he’s a better hugger than Dermot, I KNOW, and speaking of Dermot, I have to think he’s happiest at chez Louis, I’m just reading the hugs and chit-chat, don’t @ me).

Armstrong is next, with his extremely soulful version of the “Friends” theme. Nile wasn’t too sure what to make of it, and Liam wasn’t either, but Louis was pleased, so that’s good enough for all of us. 

Can you imagine singing your heart out in front of either of these faces?

I love that as Dermot hugs the performer, the three judges sit there and whisper furiously about what was good/bad, and it’s ALWAYS on point and brief. I’d attend a meeting with any of them, I mean, LOOK:

Tom comes in and blows the roof off, and he’s so sunburned, but Nile’s feeling it from the get go, and then the beat drops, and everyone loves it (Louis’s fierce toe-tap gives me life, I imagine him RUINING dance floors).

J Sol doesn’t want to let Louis down, and he doesn’t. All three judges look like this when he gets up there, so you know that’s a good thing (he’s my fave, so me as all three of ‘em):

Shout out to Harry’s Gucci lion ring, lmao:

Anthony’s next, and we get a brief overview from Louis that sparks a dramatic gasp from Liam (“Ooooohhhh! This is what you told me? Ohhhhhhh” Louis: “Yes, yeah,” i.e., pipe down, Lime). Mark Wahlberg’s British cousin does okay, but his song wasn’t the greatest choice. Still, it sparks a great mentoring flash from Louis, who talks him off the shame spiral ledge BRILLIANTLY. Nile jumps in with a great anecdote about David Bowie, of all people, and honestly, me as Lilo:

Previews for tomorrow are all about Brendan (Brandon? Brendon?) and his red cheeks, and I’m not a fan, but I can’t wait to analyze all of Louis’ micro-expressions. If there’s any justice, he’ll cut Simon’s crush in judges’ houses just like Simon cut Georgia, but this is Simon’s show, so I doubt it.

[something-tofightfor]

The Punisher Season 2: Episodes 6-10

Initial reactions as I watched these episodes.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. I literally tagged it four different ways for spoilers so if you read them after this it’s your own damn fault. 

6: Nakazat Amy looks like every typical 16 year old girl at the mall Oh frank. Frank frank frank. You with that gun Curtis is such a genuinely good guy. Goddammit. Fuck. He better not bang her. Alright AMY. Don’t bring up the kids. Frank is so fucking sad. Oh so he sees through the transformation bullshit. And he’s apologizing for spying on her. Interesting. SELF ASSURED BILLY IS COMING BACK SLOWLY it’s interesting that she isn’t giving him rules TONGUE So these pictures are literally of men kissing. Interesting. Roughhousing with Frank, must be 18 to ride this ride I actually really liked this scene in the trailer with the gun training. Looks like Billy can do more than 20 pushups now And he’s reading his own file.... WHO IS KM Billy and Curtis...  and he APOLOGIZED. Jeeeeeesus. He’s fucking crying. I can’t. He’s so sad. So angry. So confused. Brett and Dinah again.... hmmmm. Brett still doesn’t know that Frank was there. Madani feels guilt about lying about the carousel.... HE CALLED her out about lying. Frank stole a limo, ok. This confrontation between Pilgrim and Madani is... not that tense. But i mean maybe don’t point your gun st someone on a sidewalk in broad daylight? Is the subplot of this show a fucking Russian election meddling scheme? Yes. Yes it is. When Frank Castle tells you to get on your knees, you get on your knees MY FUCKING GOD WHY DO YOU LET HIM LIVE Where is billy getting money from? He’s finding a group of friends again... he’s earning his spot at the head of the pack again. Giving orders sounds ... natural coming from him. This is billy trying to reassert himself. Trying to do “good”. The accent is much more pronounced when he is in the moment. You’re not a petty criminal Billy. You’re better than this. Way better. Would you do it all over again, frank? Maybe. This poor kid, and Curtis trying to clean up the mess. Again. Welp, guess it doesn’t matter that Frank let him live. Oh Dr. Dumont just hid her most recent notes. Why is she protecting billy? ... he has poor impulse control and yet you slapped him and stabbed him in the damn hand with a letter opener.... and you have a degree in psychology? K. I just threw my glasses across the room. This is not happening. This group therapy session between Frank, Madani and Curtis is constructive.

7: One Bad Day Madani’s interview... ONE YEAR HAS PASSED. MADANI BEING HONEST. Her poor choice in sexual partners got her here I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THE LETTER OPENER lmao madani having to talk about sleeping with Billy in detail. This is what i wanted. Madani admitted to her mistakes. THIS IS EVERYTHING #justiceforstein Frank needs to stop people from telling him what the fuck to do. He can live with killing people ... but it’s not easy. Madani is lying about never wanting to kill Billy herself... but she doesn’t have the balls to do it. Frank doesn’t want to kill him, but he’s going to do it because he feels that he OWES Curtis and Madani. This bitch chewing her pills kills me More billy sex flashbacks ... she’s fucked. The biggest fucking sigh to ever come out of my mouth just came out of my mouth. .... so they’re getting off on hurting each other. I really hate this bitch She’s lying. Billy’s being honest again. The sex helped him more than therapy or medication. Knowing that he has “friends” out there helped. Oh this bitch is a manipulator. Holy shit. Oh. But he put someone ahead of himself for once. Interesting. He just wants to know what it feels like to have part of everything. That’s... different. BYE BITCH. Billy. You. Are. Not. A. Petty. Criminal. The fuck are you doing? It’s really interesting to me that Billy is choosing this path because he fell in with an easy, shitty crowd. He’s better than this. He’s capable of so many things. I get that this is because he’s a wanted man... but.... STILL TALKING ABOUT BETH... She sold you out FRANK, KAREN FUCKING PAGE WOULDNT EVER this drug addict is going to fuck everything up. Everyone wants Billy dead... except Madani... and I think Billy is included in this group of people that want him dead. Talking about a “new normal” This applies to frank and billy and madani and even Curtis ... HMMMM Interrogator Frank Madani and Curtis just standing there and watching with bored expressions on their faces is the best Lots of hand stabbing in this season. Good thing Curtis is a medic. BILLY DIDNT MURDER FRANK’S WHOLE FAMILY we’ve officially reached the point in the season where i feel BAD for Madani. .... nevermind. (Not even two minutes later) This is intense. Goddammit LILLIAN he didn’t kill anyone. He did everything he could to NOT kill anyone. Interesting. OH FUCK THE VEST OH FUCK billy is having a panic attack. Holy hell.

8: My Brother’s Keeper I don’t like the title of this. Billy remembers. Not everything, but enough I think. I have been waiting for billy with this gun for MONTHS Did not disappoint. Frank is literally running down the street in the Punisher vest, like.... is that a good idea or nah? Curtis just saved his ass twice LET HIM REMEMBER YOU ASSHOLES OH WELL OK THEN. Frank and Curtis... are having a moment and it’s much needed. Frank’s analysis of Billy’s response to seeing him and having Frank fire at him breaks my heart. He looked at Billy and saw family. “he does not know what he did” OH FRANK. Oh sweet frank. He had a shot... and couldn’t take it. Billy came back to Krista.... He said please again. Billy Russo is going to beg? He didn’t have to Oh lord. He remembers and knows that frank betrayed him but not WHY. god this is heartbreaking. Ben Barnes is an incredible actor. His tears and the emotions are so goddamn real. This scene after she lets him back in is one of the best acted scenes on TV. “I know but i don’t know. I don’t feel it” Christ almighty take my heart and stomp on it why don’t you “He was my best friend, but he was pointing a gun at me” ... oh Billy. She can’t help you. She’s manipulating you because she wants power. She needs to feel wanted. FUCK YOU KRISTA DUMONT Curtis had a shot too... and he didn’t take it. Neither of them could do it. Curtis just wants to be normal. He wants to have a life - an “AFTER” ... Frank screaming at this girl is great. That’s not the way she thought the day was going to go. Brett knowing about Castle is really interesting to me. This conversation is really interesting to me. He’s not fucking around. Billy would give his life for Frank. And he thinks that he’s not the man he was before... THERE ARE MORE PIECES BITCH. I THINK KRISTA WAS IN THIS FUCKING CULT Now frank is seeing billy ... and Curtis is calling him out on it Still walking around in the vest... This is Frank’s moment.... OH FUCK YES BILLY He just punched a hole into a wall and I think I had a stroke OH YOU MANIPULATIVE BITCH Do not choose her billy Russo ... goddammit Lmao Amy just tried to kill Curtis OH SHIT THIS IS THE ANVIL SPEECH AGAIN. Oh Billy. You’re thinking very big here. I have nothing to say about this little dinner between Curtis and Amy and Dinah Frank visiting Maria and the kids at the cemetery... 

9: Flustercluck Frank’s gonna drop some knowledge. “Let me be what I’m meant to be” This bitch is trying to make plans with Billy in the future.... uhhhhhhhhhh This isn’t Billy. Yeah she “accepts” him.... but..... Ok so they’re growing in numbers and in strength and in visibility, quickly. They could have established Billy this season without making him fuck this broad. He wants to know why frank tried to kill him... but does he REALLY?!?!? So wait Schultz is in this cult?!? Uh oh. This guy knows who pilgrim is. WHERE ARE YOU GOING AMY?!? ..... billy in madani’s new apartment. And he found the journal. HE CUT OFF THE DUDES THUMB OH MY GOD Billy is there. Oh my god oh my god oh my god This is nuts. Billy and madani have more chemistry out of bed than in Madani telling him the TRUTH. YES YES YES YES YES ... but.... there’s no need to be such a bitch. BILLY WITH THE FUCKING MIC DROP i can’t tell if she’s scared or happy or aroused - maybe all three? Oh Amy, you just killed this girl. Why did you leave your bag in the other room. This is a trap. Frank’s very nervous for Amy Billy... deserves more? He thinks he deserves more, at least KRISTA HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT YOU. Billy doesn’t want to run. THERE IS NO “us” KRISTA. i hope he snaps her fucking neck. Like you barely know this woman...and i get that you feel a connection because she’s been your therapist.... but this isn’t normal. This isn’t right. She.... she’s using you, she’s LYING about something and i am pissed that i can’t figure it out I AM STRESSED AMY SHOT SOMEONE GOOD LORD Dad Frank 🤤🤤 Omg is Krista going to kill madani Just two girls that have both boned Billy Russo hanging out in the same room....  this is going to end well Pilgrim’s real name is... Robbie? WHO ARE YOU THOUGH Who did he steal money from?!? And what did he do with it?!?! 10: The Dark Hearts of Men ... another flashback. :( billy is getting his ASS kicked... and so is frank.... holy hell TONGUE Frank and billy.... GODDAMN. I am sad. Holy fuck Billy’s watching them 24 hours earlier?!?! Oh god someone’s dying The wine is called “decoy” ... billy is listening to this. Madani’s going to go DEEP with this i think... Frank and Curtis are reminiscing about Billy. frank misses being active duty too... just like billy Frank admits they’re the same. Oh yikes. Pilgrim killed some people. He’s very bloody ...and snorting something. Cool. Did he just effing reset his jaw?!? This is what happens when you’re in a cult for 12 years.... you have all kinds of pent up anger and kill 5 people in 3 minutes Instinct and emotion.... justifying it afterward.... Hmmmmmmmmmmmm Frank has done the things billy has done though.... not on the same scale, but.... Welp Pilgrim is apparently on his rumpsringa ... hookers and blow and murder Billy is always alone.... true. But now he thinks he isn’t. And that’s dangerous ... oh, ok. I mean your wife is dying but go on and get a BJ from some methhead Frank and Curtis live on this roof now Billy creeping from a nearby rooftop is me waiting and watching for new content from this show after the teaser was announced at the end of the January promo but before we had any other information John and Rebecca in s sweeter moment ... and she’s questioning him... and she had every right to do so. This description is like Frank and Billy rolled into one... AND SOMEONE STILL LOVES HIM. Krista is getting Madani drunk....... And madani just said she wanted him dead... not the right answer Dinah. “He is just a man alone”.... Billy is a great motivational speaker. ITS A TRAP FRANK. He knows you’re coming. Boom. And here we go Oh this is good This is well shot This is disorienting Frank is getting his ass kicked again Billy is the only one not in a mask. Well. I thought you were better than this billy Holy shit this fight choreography I’m gonna be real pissed if Curtis dies Oh fuck frank just killed civilians FUCK. His desire for revenge killed innocent people. He isn’t any better than Billy ....and Curtis killed someone too. Yikes He was there the whole time. FUCKING billy. Krista is twisted as hell. And i hate her but i gotta kinda respect her for fucking going after what she wants (i reserve the right to change this opinion at a later time and i hope i get to) She’s trying to prove herself to billy..... but I’m not sure if she actually cares or if she just wants the satisfaction of knowing she helped. Fuck... frank is screwed.