#it only works bc if it was anyone OTHER than gus he would never be able to do that without exploding

[unexpectedbrickattack]

I bet Gustavo knows how’s exactly small he is and uses his charms and adorableness to get tips , and it’d work

Peppino pays Gus very well (esp after postgame) so theres no need to have tips. He lets Gus have the jar there anyway, but at the cost of having Pep occasionally come up behind him and catch him conning these poor customers

[nicomoon69]

I’ve made up so much Bernard lore in my head so I’m just going to dump it here

so post Louis Grieve in my head Bernard transferred to an all boys boarding school his junior year (someone suggested Brentwood so I’m gonna go w that). his parents sent him there as a bit of a last ditch effort to straighten him out, get up his grades and push him out of his silly habits. this also included them making him buzz off his hair since they deemed his old hair unprofessional.

all of it was a huge blow to Bernard’s already fragile mental health and self esteem so at Brentwood he was kind of a mess. he wasn’t exactly a bad student but the people around him considered him even more of an outsider than he was before at Louis Grieve.

eventually Bernard did find himself with a small group of friends (might further develop them as ocs??) who were much like him outsiders. one of said friends also being the first time he fooled around with a guy, which led to several more though none of it was ever serious.

there was lots of denial at first but by the time his time at Brentwood ended Bernard had accepted himself as queer.

he applied for a few colleges, some outside of Gotham but he ended up settling for GU bc part of his couldnt handle leaving his city behind. he chose a double major because he thought that would make his parents most proud and bc biology and physics were the only subjects he enjoyed.

despite everything seemingly going well for Bernard he felt an emptiness that nothing could fix, that is until he found the Children of Dionysus. despite knowing the risks of joining a cult he did. he was in the cult for roughly eight months before he got kidnapped to get sacrificed.

that was a rough version of what happened in my head. I have some more details that I couldn’t fit smoothly into that word vomit so here’s some more

Bernard came out to his parents his first semester, which they took pretty badly and led him to getting kicked out and having to couch surf for a bit before landing on the apartment he was living in during TD:R.

to keep himself afloat with no support from his parents Bernard worked two jobs, one at a diner around the corner of his apartment and the other at a coffee shop closer to GU.

at Brentwood Bernard did a lot of experimental stuff with his appearance ranging from spiking his hair after it had grown out a bit to getting his ears pierced multiple times. a tongue piercing came along somewhere in his time at the cult and Bernard genuinely doesn’t remember getting it.

during junior and senior year Bernard joined the basketball team. he was surprisingly good considering he had never showed any interest in the sport and wasn’t particularly athletic before then. basketball somehow also led him to training himself in martial arts.

since I do hc the Children of Dionysus to have some more Dionysian practices I think Bernard developed both a distaste for wine and eating raw meat (omophagia).

Bernard has been refusing to get drastic hair cuts after the buzz cut and is unlikely to get one any time soon. he’s been taking kitchen scissors to his hair and freestyling it if he feels it needs more shape.

though he’s been out for a while Bernard hasn’t actually dated anyone long term before Tim. most people he’s been with were flings or were blocked after a few dates.

the way Bernard got into contact with the cult is through one of his high school classmates, who he’d seen talk about the ways that joining it had improved their life and how they were much more enlightened. he due to his circumstances was an easy victim after his initial skepticism

there’s just a lot of permanent scarring due to the cult, but Bernard doesn’t bother covering them up with make up or clothes. at least not post getting rescued.

Bernard actually goes to therapy after the cult and was also diagnosed with autism (let me project a teeny bit). it helped him make more sense of his life and gave him more direction.

his cooking passion came from his early childhood, being dimmed out in middle school and only returning after high school. he mostly enjoys writing his own recipes and experimenting with taste. there was ofc the added challenge of budget, but it was one of the few things that made him happy.

his conspiracy theorist side mostly calmed down until he was thrust back into it when he started dating Tim. this was due to odd behavior from Tim and until Bernard found out he was RR (which really didn’t take that long) he was balls deep on conspiracy blogs and threads. he didn’t really quite after putting the RR pieces together though, bc he enjoyed being able to subtly help Tim with his cases.

due to the two jobs and double major previously mentioned Bernard has a terrible sleeping schedule. he regularly stays up past three only to have a morning shift that starts at seven.

gonna quite rambling for now lol, might edit this post to add more in the morning but I’m sick of typing. sorry if it’s a lot, I just think abt him a lot……. yea..

[myohmyimanxious]

TOH HEADCANONS

- Alador wasn't present for any of his children's births. Not bc he didn't want to be, but bc odalia wouldn't allow him time of work to do so

- He was so happy to see amity grow up looking more like him with the brown hair and similar traits

- He wishes he put up more of a fight against odalia for how she treated their kids, and feels guilty about not being more present and standing up for them

- Eda and Raine were the worst people to put together, bc they caused C H A O S during their hexside days

- Sometimes Lilith, Darius, Alador and Perry would also join in, but it was mostly Eda and Rainey

- They have a Look™️ which means LETS CAUSE TROUBLE ON PURPOSE

- It's part of the reason Darius sought out Raine for the rebellion and knowledge

- Darius and Raine and Eberwolf always played pranks of Adrian Graye but never got caught. Adrian found it infuriating

- Darius takes Hunter in after everything goes down

- Eberwolf lives next door and likes to cause chaos and wrangles hunter into doing it too much to Darius's dismay

- Mud baths are a staple. But hunter and eber have to be hosed down before being allowed back into the house

- Hunter begged for Darius to tell him about his predecessor after the dust settled. It took Darius a while to do so but he did eventually

- Lilith will not hesitate to punch anyone who disrespects hooty

- They're ride or die pals forever and always

- Hooty still kinda freaks Raine out even after all this time

- Hunter and Amity have a secret pact that is basically if one of them needs the other for any kind of fight they come no questions asked

- They also go to each other when talking about childhood trauma

- Luz and Gus bond over losing a parent

- They first do so in the human realm when Gus asks about her dad

- Gus's mum died when he was like 5 or 6 so he doesn't remember her very well other than that she was ill for most of his childhood

- Gus has no idea how strong he is

- He was arm wrestling amity and accidentally hurt her arm bc he was so into it

- The hexsquad don't get it when Luz calls him Lennie after that, and she won't elaborate

- Willow gives people specific plants to certain people as gifts

- For example, Gus gets one that symbolisies friendship, amity gets one symbolising strength, Luz gets one symbolising honour, and hunter gets one symbolising love

- The way the others had to hold back tears when she gave them out made her cry as well

- Hunter is terrible at sharing unless it's with Gus or Willow

- Eda will bite you if you try and take food from her plate

- Raine tried once, they never tried afterwords tho

- Lilith and hooty go off on little adventures every now and then

- King and Luz always refer to each other as brother and sister, even in the human realm

- King is also very clingy over Luz and Eda now (more so than before)

- I like to think that if the collector is tamed and looked after they get to be a real kid, who doesn't cause chaos for the sake of it

- I also like to think that the collector and hunter would be close almost like a sibling relationship but not quite?

- Like the collector is like MY GRIMWALKER HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS ME and hunter is like this is my star child who I can't get rid of

- Initially, bc of this, the collector is clingy with hunter and somewhat jealous of his other friends but soon grows used to it

- Hunter is basically their parent but also sibling? Like I say it's an odd dynamic

- King and the collector often hang but it's a little awkward at first

- Lilith and Raine actually get along really well once they properly get to know each other, tho they don't hang out much

- When the do they just embarrass Eda

- Luz is still very much an outcast at school when she returns to the human realm but it doesn't bother her in the same way as it did before

- She's a lot harder now so stands up for herself and others more as a result of her time in the Boiling Isles

[jaimetheexplorer]

That theory that Kim will show up at some point with a new husband/family is possibly one of the stupidest things to ever come out of Reddit. Besides the lack of imagination, besides the fact that it would reduce Kim to nothing more than a plot device to "punish" Jimmy some more (because what other purpose is there to her showing up just to rub her new happy life in his face?), it also proves how little attention people paid to her characterisation and background.

We haven’t seen Kim mention any ex, dates, or any previous relationship in the 6 seasons we’ve known her. She's never expressed an interest in marriage or kids. She seems to have little to no personal life outside of Jimmy both during the present timeline and in all of the flashbacks (the only vague mentions of people she has dinner or drinks with all seem to be related to her work; the ABA mixer, the tax fraud guy and his wife, Paige). And now, on top of her canonical loner persona, she has the baggage of someone whose scheming unintentionally got her boss killed by the cartel, found herself willing to gun down a complete stranger, and must keep it all a secret forever. The idea that she would find it within herself to try and have another relationship, when she knows she’d have to hide all this baggage from her new partner, when part of the reason she’s so disgusted with herself is that she hid stuff from Jimmy, and, as a consequence, she literally doesn’t think she deserves love or a relationship, is absurd. 

The tragedy here is that the only person Kim could ever talk to about what she went through, the only one who would understand, is the very same person she decided to cut herself off from. If she tried to be with someone else, the guilt and the shame would just eat her up alive, it would be miserable and dysfunctional and not bound to last.

There is of course the one in a million chance she’d stumble upon Mr Perfect, with whom she develops the deepest and most trusting relationship EVER, to whom she decides she can tell everything, and, Mr Perfect being Mr Perfect, won't at all be terrified and disgusted by this revelation and still stick by her no matter what because he loves her so much, she gets over her trauma, and they lived happily ever after. But, even ignoring for a moment how cheesy and lazy a Mr Perfect would be for a show that’s all about flawed and complex characterisation, you would need something like this to happen ON SCREEN. And it would take an awful long time, not just half an episode. You don’t spend 6 seasons building up her character and a 12-year-long relationship with Jimmy as the most important and deepest of her life, and then handwave her moving on off-screen.

I am totally clueless as to what Kim's professional life will look like. But for her personal life, unless the writers all simultaneously knocked their heads and decided cheap romantic drama is the way to go, I think there are only two possible logical futures: either she somehow finds her way back to Jimmy, or she ends up alone for the rest of her life, kind of like Gus. And I’m not saying this just because I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks she could never love anyone else, but because everything we know about her character, combined with the most recent events, sort of make this an inevitability.

I think unfortunately the most likely scenario is that she'll end up alone. From Rhea's interviews, I'm not getting the best vibes about Kim having a hopeful future. I can only hope that she was discussing Kim's ending in the BCS timeline, rather than her ending overall.

[seraphtrevs]

How impossible is for mike to kill papa varga. i mean, if IF the cartel wants him dead to send a message

I'm reluctant to answer because my ability to predict this show is so shit, but that's never stopped me before! Let me put on my clown regalia first

Okay, so my thoughts are it's not likely. Who would it be sending a message to? Only Mike and Gus know Nacho died for his father - what would Papa's death accomplish for Gus? Papa doesn't even know who Gus is and is not involved in the drug business at all. And Mike works for Gus, not the cartel.

If anyone were to go after him, it would be the Salamancas out of revenge, but honestly I think Hector barely even remember Nacho's dad. He's got other things on his mind.

Secondly, it feels much too bleak. Yes, this show is a tragedy and full of bleakness, but it's dark, not grimdark. Dark is when horrible things happen to characters that are a natural consequence of the story. Grimdark is when a gratuitous amount of suffering occurs for no other reason other than it's so ~twisted~

Nacho's fate was tragic but also triumphant. He is the only character in the BrBa/BCS verse (so far) who makes a sacrifice for love.* The narrative drives home that this was a triumph with the symbol of the blue flower - a beautiful bloom in the waste. It's hopeful.

If Mike kills Papa, Nacho will have died for nothing. To me, that doesn't fit his arc.

(*Jesse also is a special case, but he's much less in control of his destiny than Nacho is when he makes his final sacrifice. I'm not saying Nacho is morally superior to Jesse. I'm sure Jesse would have done the same, but the story didn't give him a chance. His arc is different. Jimmy also tries to make a sacrifice for love, but it fails. Again, this isn't a claim that Nacho is superior - just he's the one who gets the privilege of making a great sacrifice that saves his loved one)

On the other hand, Peter Gould mentioned Mike will go as dark as it's possible for him to go and I don't feel like we've seen that yet, and he is going to be tying up loose ends in this ep. So who knows. I hope I'm right - not sure I could take Papa being put down like a dog for no reason

[jiannguo]

I don't understand why bjyx accounts even exist anymore. Like how can anyone think that there's anything between them at this point? Some stuff I've seen is ridiculous. Like "oh, Xiao Zhan posted a picture that has bread in it, it means that he misses wyb" or "both of them posted spring festival pictures that have chicken feet, it must mean that they're together celebrating." I even saw one that said that the red envelope that Xiao Xhan got last spring festival must be from wyb bc it's so pretty his parents probably wouldn't have made the effort. Like why wouldn't they have, and to my understanding as a non-Chinese person is that that's not how that works. Like wtf?

I personally don't think there's anything between them except maybe friendship or just an acquaintance, but to shippers it doesn't matter. There's ships for XZ with Reba, LiQin, YangZi, even Liu ShiShi (The other day I stumbled on a XZ and YangYang ship 🤣).

I saw someone yesterday compare a black and white photo of XZ and WYB imdividually saying its a CP pose 🤣 In reality, it's just an emo pose in b&w taken by hundreds of other actors as well. Not to mention these two photos in question were taken more than a year apart.

And not every brand that puts red and green together are promoting their CP (like wtf abt Christmas lmao).

Every single international CP fans have a similar tag line, exact same like was used many times before "their Chinese shipper fans know everything but they're protecting their relationship *cough every CP out there*"

Also it's hard for them to realise that majority of actors, whatever they wear in public events or ads are "given" to them by the sponsors, which would also require permission from the brand. (There have been Chinese actresses who got in trouble with brands who wore their outfits without permission, and brands forced them to delete every photo). So no... brand outfits aren't CP outfits. Almost every brand item gets worn by someone else after work is complete.

I feel the reason why their presence feel too much on international social media is because XZ's biggest international hit is CQL and the international fanbase have stemmed from there. But in reality in CN, they're not a big fanbase compared to both the actor's individual fanbase (just compare their numbers). They're just loud, and when they scream SZD everywhere, it's just them screaming that they're shippers or fujoshis, which makes it so weird in itself...

I ignore them for the most part, frankly speaking most are pretty much stuck at CQL, they hardly talk about or promote their latest dramas. They pretty much survive on these oddball stories that make its way from weibo, embellish and spread them. They would never look at Gu Yiye for instance 😆😆 It soooo breaks their fantasy!

I am an ex shipper from Addicted/Guardian fandom, so getting out of this whole business, have provided a lot of clarity on how CP fandom actually thrives. And there is a huge backend financial interest behind it (they make a ton on CP merch, infact any outsider vendor who just even hints at promoting the two gets sell out too). Here's another example, there are douyin/wechat accounts which is a pay as you go, you have to pay to enter and get candy.

I can keep going on and on, but honestly my only request is if you like Xiao Zhan, watch and promote his works. That is the kind of fan we should be.

His personal life, none of our business.

[trivia-bangtan]

after (jjk) - 005

pairing: patient!oc x patient!jungkook

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda a hazel and gus trope, | lots of angst, fluff and suggestive themes

warning: this chapter gets extremely dark 😭 (nothing new lol)

authors note: omfg im so sorry it’s taken me so long to post 😩 the schedule might change from now on bc my schedule changed 😅 but hope u guys enjoy it 😩😩

there's a phobia called agoraphobia. it’s basically the fear of places and situations that can cause panic, helplessness and/or embarrassment. usually, i can deal with it. but things like cringe worthy scenes and overly cheesy romance is unavoidable.

especially being friends with jeon jungkook.

i knew better than to hand out my phone number to just anyone, but i thought maybe jungkook would be so busy with his own life, he would leave me alone.

for his parents' sake, i hope he had unlimited talk and text for his plan. the boy texted me first thing in the morning and every hour or so. he would call me at night, sometimes even facetime me, just before he went to bed. and even when we would hang up, he would still text me goodnight.

the only other person i would talk to everyday, other than my parents, is hoseok. hoseok was my older cousin, but one of my closest friends as well. but even hoseok gave a break during the day to allow some “me time” for the both of us.

jungkook was relentless. he would always text me “good morning sunshine” and then text me “good night my moon”. what the hell even was that?

as much as it was annoying, it was endearing in a sense. i guess it was nice to have someone other than family constantly checking up on me. but some part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of what namjoon had said and if he felt obligated to have to talk to me.

i knew jungkook wasn’t like that. but a small part of me couldn’t help but convince myself that it could be true.

“so the guy texts you all the time? it’s not a big deal,” hoseok said, sitting across the island in his kitchen. i stuck my fork into my bowl of fruit, impaling a small blueberry in the process.

“i mean, it’s not but it’s weird. hobi, i’ve never had someone crave to talk to me so often. and i swear it has to be because of what our counselor said,” i mumble.

the thing about hoseok is he has an aura that gets you to spill all emotions. much like jungkook. but the difference between the two of them in my life is that i’ve known hoseok a lot longer and can confirm he can keep his mouth shut.

“well contrary to your belief, you’re a decent person to have around,” he shrugs, giving a strawberry in his mouth. i snort at his comment and roll my eyes.

“wow, what a compliment. it’s a wonder you’re single,” i chuckle, shoveling the fork full of blueberries into my mouth.

“i’m single by choice. what about you?” hoseok smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” i asked, laughing at his expression.

“what?”

“the whole thing?” i respond, laying my fork down onto the counter, leaning onto it with my elbows, forearms flat as i folded my hands.

“i’m single because i choose to be. i prefer comforting solitude than forced company,” he shrugs, continuing to shovel fruit into his mouth.

“forced company?” i ask.

“yeah. like, just because we’re together, they feel obligated to HAVE to hang out with me or invite me everywhere when, in reality, i don’t give a damn. i mean, you know me. we both value our solitude and respect that. but it’s hard to find someone that understands that. and then i’m the bad guy for wanting alone time when really, it’s a mental health break,” hoseok explains, his eyes locked onto the bowl in front of him.

his statement surprised me. he was always such a people oriented person. as kids, he was the first to make friends between us and always such an extrovert. it kind of hurt to know eventually his whole personality switched. but maybe being so wrapped up in my world and in my own issues, i failed to acknowledge the people around me.

the atmosphere changed after that. almost as if there was a sad reminisce in the air.

“do you think you’re forced to keep me company?” i blurted. i couldn’t deny, the thought crossed my mind multiple times before. was everyone around me just babysitting to make sure i didn’t hurt myself?

i couldn’t tell. i knew asking would be dumb. hoseok would never tell me the truth. he’s usually a pretty blunt and up front guy, but he would never outright hurt my feelings. which saddened me even more. would he willingly lie to comfort me? knowing what i knew?

“do you think i am?”

“yeah,” i honestly admitted. we both sat in silence, taking in my answer.

it wasn’t a lie. like i said, the thought had crossed my mind. every time he placed his phone down on the table to force himself to give me his attention. the way he seemingly dropped everything immediately if i asked him to hang out with me or pick me up some place. how i never heard of him being with friends.

the more i sat there, the more i threw myself into overdrive, thinking until my head started to pound from overthinking.

“well, you’re wrong,” he sighed. my eyes flitted up to gaze at his face. he looked sullen, almost like my answer had upset him. i released a silent huff through my nose, smirking in the process.

“you don’t have to protect me,” i murmured quietly.

“my mom called me. she begged me to come home one day. i didn’t understand it at first, but she's my mom. i did as i was told. when i got home, she didn’t say anything, just told me to get in the car. i remember thinking to myself ‘what’s got her feeling this way? why is she being ominous with her actions?’ the whole drive, she said nothing,” hoseok said, a distant look in his eyes.

“she ended up pulling over at some park. it was late, so i didn’t recognize it at first. but then i realized what park it was. it was the park we went to as kids. and, again, i kept wondering to myself why she was being enigmatic with her actions. and then she spoke. she said six words and then didn’t speak the rest of the week,” he said, his voice shaken with sadness.

“what did she say?” i asked softly, my voice a mere whisper. hoseok looked up at me, his eyes glazed red.

“your cousin tried to kill herself.”

i felt like the air had come out of my lungs.

it’s funny, people like to talk about your attempts, but nobody ever tells you where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. nobody tells you the pain they feel or the hurt. the anger or the betrayal. they pretend like what they felt didn’t happen to convince themselves it wasn’t real and they could move on. because it didn’t work and you’re alive.

but hearing hoseok tell me about his experience, it stirred something in my heart and i hadn’t felt in a long time.

regret.

“she didn’t even mention if you survived or if you were okay. that’s all she said. and because she was crying, i assumed the worst. i had assumed you died. and it felt like everything in me… stopped working. like, i forgot what it was like to not have you by my side. every… every memory, every laugh. every inside joke. it was like a corny ass film playing at 2x speed in front of me. my mind kept telling itself this can’t be real. she wouldn’t do that to me’. but the longer we sat there and the harder she cried, i couldn’t take it. i jumped out of the car and just started running. i didn’t know where i was going but i just had to run because the car was so suffocating, i thought i was gonna pass out. and i kept asking myself ‘why her? why couldn’t she just talk to me? why didn’t she tell me she was hurting? does she know how much i love her and that i would do anything to keep her here?’ and then i was pissed because i thought you had abandoned me. that you didn’t care about me or your parents or my mom. but then… once i stopped running… i felt bad for you. because i could never imagine the amount of loneliness you must’ve felt thinking the only way to solve this was to end it all,” he said through his compendious recount of that night. i could feel the hurt and regret make its rounds in my heart, forcing my body to follow. it physically ached to hear hobi recall every moment of that night. “i’m sorry,” i cried out, crying into my hands.

“that’s why i hang out with you. that’s why i talk to you. because i don’t want you to feel that kind of loneliness ever again,” he admitted, sniffling. the hurt and regret only further festered and made me cry over hard to the point where i felt like i couldn’t breathe. hoseok stood from his spot, making his way around the island. he stood in front of me, pulling me into his chest, my arms wrapping around his waist. i hadn’t hugged anyone in years, and the amount of care and love hoseok had emitted through his hug made me cry even more.

“and that’s why i’m so glad you have jungkook. because when i can’t be there, at least he is,” he explained, rubbing small circles in my back.

though my doubt was still heavy, and i felt as if he had an ulterior motive, hoseok’s words comforted me in a way.

jungkook had been nothing but kind, never intrusive or inquisitive about my history or my feelings. he spoke to me because he wanted me to know that he cared.

and for the first time in forever, i felt something else too.

hope.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Society au is just so INTERESTING, it just draws me in! idk why i am just captivated and i cant get enough, can you info dump us please i need more info

I’m glad some people like this au sm!! its a personal favorite of mine ngl

Luz has found that, often, between each town theres often just...nothing. just rolling hills, mud, maybe a small dirty stream or two, and telephone poles (half of which lost the wires connected to them long ago). the most foliage she ever sees is in the clump of forest by Bonesborough and around labs, whether or not they’re abandoned. and the cornfield but we dont count that bc Luz is pretty sure the only thing keeping that corn going is sheer demonic spite. this means that typically, unless you learn to keep low and avoid bright flashy colors, everything is very easy to spot on the horizon. Luz and her friends have spent so long out there they’ve learned to move close to the ground and can hit the dirt in a millisecond if needed. they’re both unnerved but also thrilled whenever they stand out in the open with nothing to hide them. bc on one hand, oh god, anyone could see them. but on the other hand, if they’re purposefully standing out in the open, chances are there really isn’t anything dangerous nearby for a LONG while. and its fun to do things you normally don’t have the comfort to be able to.

Luz, Eda and King like to explore the abandoned towns around the Boiling Isles. not the farms or the watchtowers, but actual ghost towns, often ones that had bigger buildings than Bonesborough. running across buildings and slipping into alleyways to see what they can scrounge up. usually its junk, but Luz likes exploring and seeing what the towns used to be like. finding toys, trinkets, furniture, and the like that Eda steals (”not like the owners are gonna want this back wherever they are”, as Eda would say) anything she mildly likes. Luz notes that most of the towns look like they were never disturbed. like these people were all going about their lives and then suddenly vanished in the middle of the day. Luz wonders what happened to those towns. she also wonders what happened to the towns that look like they were ransacked and turned upside down, just short of the buildings being burned to a crisp in a riot. but sometimes she’ll find a pet that managed to survive and fix them up before setting them loose around Bonesborough. sometimes her neighbors will take in the pets they find, and Luz supposes at least something could be salvaged.

Gus keeps a handheld recorder and has Logs and Entries on his days in Bonesborough and working with his friends to stop the scientists, which he later uploads to his computer. Willow complains and says its dangerous to log stuff like this, since someone could find his recorder and figure out everything. to quell this, Gus always hides his computer in a new spot in his room and never takes it with him on missions, as well as putting a self-destruct device in it, should he find that anyone stole it. he and Amity later bond over having log entries, since Amity has her diary that became a journal of all she does. theres no self-destruct in the journal, but Amity also hides it in a new spot all over the lab all the time and has come to terms with the fact that someday she might have to burn it. but for now, she and Gus bond abt it and Luz is v proud of her friend & frenemy(?) getting along.

in an old abandoned lab theres one of those really slow elevators thats completely made of chain-link with a chain-link guard around it. Willow and Gus use it like Normal people but Luz is overly dramatic for no reason whatsoever so the first time her friends were poking around the lift, she decided to grab onto the chain-link guard and climb up it to the second floor like a feral squirrel. and then refused to look Willow in the eye when they figured out it was an elevator. Luz has now made it her mission that, every time they visit that lab, to scale up the chain-link like the bastard she is bc shes stubborn and thinks it looks cool. she did it to show off to Amity once and Amity is Very ashamed to admit it lowkey kinda worked

[tngrayson]

While My Heart Gently Weeps

A/N: A long blurb I wrote to get back into writing. I know I’ve been away for a long time. This is my first time dipping into the BCS world, and writing Nacho, so I’d LOVE your feedback. I think I’m going to write more Nacho, since there seems to be a shortage of him on here. 

P.S. This ends suddenly

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: Explicit sex, Violence, Drugs, things typical of the Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul universe. Might not be for everyone

Pairing: Nacho x Reader

___

“Will I see you tonight?”

“I don’t know, I’ve still got a lot to do here,” he said, looking at the warehouse where the exchange was to happen.

She sighed. “Please? I miss you, Ignacio.” She continued dramatically, “It’s so lonely in this bed.” She stretched out seductively as if he could see her.

Nacho breathed a laugh. “Okay, baby. I’ll come by after I finish up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, getting out of the car and walking into the Los Pollos Hermanos warehouse.

“I love you, Ignacio.”

“I know, baby.” Nacho hung up, tucked his phone into his pocket, and waited for Gus’ two goons to show.

Several hours later, after Nacho had a gun pointed to his head, got the idea to sabotage Don Hector’s medicine, and broken into Daniel Wormald’s home to make a deal, he was at her door using the key she’d given him some time ago to let himself in.

He hung his jacket up in the entry closet, dropped his keys in the dish by the front door, and toed off his boots before heading straight for her bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to find her sleeping there. He did his best to undress quietly and get in bed without waking her. She stirred when the bed shifted with the weight of him getting in. She stretched, her nightshirt—one of Nacho’s tees—riding up just enough to reveal her lace underwear.

“You came,” she said sleepily, sitting up to greet him.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I know, but,” she trailed off. They both knew Nacho hadn’t been keeping his promises lately.

Nacho sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I’ve been letting you down.”

“You’ve been busy,” she corrected.

“No,” he insisted. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend. You deserve better than me.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself right now?” She took his hand. “Did something happen?”

Nacho thought of the stunt Hector asked him to pull, taking six instead of five. He played calm, but for that small moment when there was a gun aimed at him, he only thought of her. He thought of how he was about to break another promise.

“Tonight. When you called, you said you loved me. All night I’ve been regretting not saying it back to you.”

“Nacho, I don’t tell you that to hear it back. “

“I love you,” he said assuredly, looking into her eyes. “I want to do better for you. I’m going to do better for you.”

Nacho pressed his lips to hers tenderly. He took his time, committing the moment to memory. He savored the feel of her soft lips on his, the lingering scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her when he pulled her to straddle on top of him. These were things he missed when he thought he might die earlier.

He broke the kiss to pull her—his—shirt off of her and then worshipped every inch of her skin that he could reach with his mouth. His hands found their way to her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as he ground his hips up against hers, earning himself a soft moan.

They parted to shed the rest of their clothing, and then Nacho was guiding her back into his lap. She eased herself on top of him, so he was buried deep inside of her wet center. She shuddered at the fullness of him, rocking her hips in time with his. His hands found a place in her hair, massaging her scalp while he tilted her head back to gain access to her neck and breasts.

She braced herself on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the delicate pace turned into a desperate one, and he pounded into a sweet spot. Her orgasm wracked through her suddenly as she cried out.

They shared a passionate kiss as he grabbed her thighs to pick her up and laid her back against the sheets—Nacho re-situating himself in between her legs.  One hand gently steadying her thigh above his hip as he slid himself inside, and the other with fingers interlaced with hers just above her head. Her body shook with another orgasm as he plunged harder, providing more friction on her clit. Pleasure rolled through her in waves, and the involuntary pulsing was enough to bring Nacho over the edge with her.

They rolled on their sides as they caught their breath. Nacho took her hand, kissing her knuckles and bringing her closer to him. The stress he was under melted away when she was in his arms. While Nacho felt at peace, her mind was uneasy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and the phenomenal sex had been a cover-up.

“Ignacio?”

“Hmm?” he said, fingers lazily drawing patterns on her side.

“Everything’s okay?”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers, allowing himself to get lost in them for a moment. He wanted to tell her everything. Tuco was going to be in jail longer than anyone anticipated, meaning he’d have to keep picking up the slack. Hector was reckless in his pissing match with Gustavo. Nacho needed to get it off of his chest, but more than that, he needed to keep her safe. The less she knew, the better.

“It will be,” he said, kissing her forehead.

***

Nacho had been more involved after that night. He called more often, visited for quality time, and they went out more often. Things had been back to how they were when they first started dating. Nacho had practically moved in with her, spending more time there than anywhere else when he wasn’t working for his father or Hector. He credited the pill switch for his upturn in mood. He just had to be patient.

All that came crashing down when he could no longer hold Hector off from using his father’s business as a front.

Nacho came home, taking off his jacket, boots, and dropping his keys in the dish like usual.

“Hi baby,” she called cheerily from the kitchen.

Rather than saying anything, Nacho went straight for the bedroom. By the time she could follow to see what was wrong, Nacho had closed the bathroom door and started the shower.

She knocked softly, fighting the urge to ask if everything was okay.

“What do you need?” she asked, seeking the solution, rather than dwelling on the problem. “Can I get you anything?”

After he said he needed to be alone for a while, she left, falling asleep on the couch before he reemerged to the rest of the apartment. Nacho woke her, guiding her to the bedroom where she could sleep comfortably.

Nacho took the couch, still opting to be alone with his thoughts. Don Hector would be in his father’s shop tomorrow. He tried to explain to his father that it would be temporary, but that didn’t change how disappointed he’d been to learn that his son was working with those drug dealers again.

Nacho was gone before she woke up the next morning. She decided to make lunch for him and his father in hopes that a homecooked meal would ease whatever had been bothering him.

Nacho and Hector pulled into the upholstery shop with two more guys. Nacho cursed when he saw her car in the lot. He didn’t want her here for this. He tried to keep them in the back, explaining how everything could operate. When Don Hector asked about his father, Nacho tried to redirect him. Hector spotted Manuel having lunch with ‘her’. Manuel seemed to notice at the same time, standing and staring at the man. She leaned into the doorframe to see what had caused the reaction. The only person she recognized was Nacho.

“Hello, my love,��� she said, coming around the counter. “I made lunch for you and Manuel. I thought-”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She was taken aback by his tone. Nacho had never talked to her like that.  

“I didn’t think it’d be a problem. Manuel didn’t say-“

Hector mumbled something in Spanish about ‘untamed pussy.’

‘Excuse me?!” she exclaimed angrily, stepping towards Hector.

Before Hector could do anything, Nacho grabbed her by the arm, making sure to grab her purse and keys off the counter as he practically dragged her out of the shop.

Go home,” he said,  once they were outside. He opened her car door and handed her the bag and keys. “Right now.”

She snatched them from his hands, got in the car, and sped out of the parking lot.

Nacho apologized to Hector when he came back into the shop. Hector accepted the apology with more derogatory comments about Nacho keeping his woman in check and a few more degrading nicknames for her. To top it off, Manuel was refusing Hector’s money, telling him to get out of his shop. Nacho kept the peace for the moment, getting his father to accept the payment. On the way out, Hector was clear about not trusting Nacho’s father.

“He’ll come around,” Nacho promised.

After things were settled with Hector, Nacho headed straight for her apartment. Her car was parked outside, but the door was slightly open. Nacho pulled out his gun and ran up to sweep the apartment. It was empty. He called and sent a few messages, even asking her friends if they’d heard from her.  He fell asleep while waiting to hear anything from her. When he woke, finding that she never came home, he called again. He got her voicemail this time and left a message.

“What happened yesterday was…complicated. I’ll tell you everything. Call me back…I’m worried.”

When Nacho pulled into El Michoacano to count the takes for the week, he saw her sitting at the table opposite Hector inside. Hector was casually waving his gun around as he spoke to her.

“You want to tell her everything?” he started as Nacho walked in. “I’ll help you. She’s going to sit right here. I will show her…so it’s less complicated.” Hector shrugged.

The first dealer of the day walked in.

Nacho ignored him. “Don Hector-“

“Count the take, Ignacio.”

Nacho took a breath to steel himself, putting his hands out for emphasis. “Don Hector, please-“

Hector cocked the gun and pointed it directly at her. She couldn’t help the tears that came forward, and she struggled to keep calm. “Count the take,” Hector demanded.

Nacho raised his hands in surrender and slowly turned to sit down with his back to the situation. Halfway through counting the take, he heard her whimper. He didn’t see Hector move the gun from aiming at her chest to her forehead.

‘Shut up.” Hector groaned, slamming the gun down on the table and swapping it for his newspaper. Everyone but Hector jumped at the sound of the metal clanging against the aged wooden table.

Nacho finished the count. “You’re good,” he said.

A few dealers later, Domingo came in, and his count was short. Nacho gave him a pass; told him to make it up next week.

“Who works for who?” Hector said, without looking up from the paper. His gun was still resting ominously on the table.

Nacho got up and dragged Domingo back into the restaurant. He begged as Nacho beat him up in the kitchen. The sight broke her heart even more than seeing him collect drug money all morning.

The end of the day came, and she had seen Nacho collect from countless dealers, all of whom seemed familiar enough with him that this wasn’t a new thing. What threw her over though, was watching as he beat Domingo in the restaurant’s kitchen when he was “light.”

After the last dealer, Nacho stood, and Hector spoke again. “Not so complicated, is it?” Hector motioned for them both to leave.

Outside, she pulled out her cell phone, turned it on, and dialed a cab. Nacho noticed the new cracks on the phone and the bruises on her wrist and around her knuckles.

“Let me take you home,” he said, pushing away the thoughts of how she may have gotten the bruises.

“Cab’s already on the way,” she said, making a beeline for the sidewalk without looking in his direction.

“Please,” he insisted. “Just to make sure you get there safely.”

The ride in Nacho’s van was silent. After they pulled into the complex, Nacho followed her up to the apartment.

Nacho locked the door when they were inside. He also drew all of the curtains shut. When he turned to her, she had taken off her jacket, revealing a trail of nasty bruises up the expanse of her arm. He wasn’t surprised when she’d asked him to leave, or when she requested for him to leave his key to her apartment as well.

***

The sound of her front door opening drew her attention. Before she could grab a weapon or call out a warning, the door swung open enough to reveal Ignacio leaning on the frame for support.

He wore jeans and a bloody tank top. He had gauze taped to his shoulder and side, covering the gunshot wounds. Both were bleeding heavily, and he looked like Death.

She rushed forward to help him apply pressure to the wound on his side and get him into the bathroom. “What happened to you?” she asked frantically.

“I couldn’t go to my father,” he said weakly.

“Nacho, you need a hospital,” she said, noticing more blood as she pulled her hand away to pull out the first aid supplies and grab her cell off of the counter.

Nacho reached out to grab her wrist.

“Don’t call anyone,” he begged. The fear in his eyes taking precedence over his pained expression. “They’ll kill you.”

She looked up into his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. She put the phone down. “I don’t know how to help with this, Ignacio,” she admitted.

“Just help me clean up,” he said shakily, “Okay?” Nacho was in more pain than he’d ever been in, but he still needed to comfort her more than anything else. He hated putting her in this situation and regretted that she was the only person he could turn to, not for his own sake, but hers. She didn’t deserve any of the things she’d been through because of him.

To her surprise, someone stitched up the wounds pretty well. They were still bleeding because Nacho came straight to her after his father told him to leave. He hadn’t rested since Hector’s nephews found him in the desert.

Nacho didn’t explain anything apart from mentioning that it would put her in danger to know what was going on. She didn’t push the subject anymore. She gave him pain medicine, helped him undress, cleaned the blood and dirt from his body, and rebandaged the wounds.

They worked in silence until he saw her crying as she washed his blood from her hands. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll go-“

She sniffled, wiping the tears from her face. “You need to rest.” She went into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. By the time Nacho made in there, she was propping up the pillows so he could sleep comfortably without straining either of his wounds. She helped him get comfortable in the bed, and crawled next to him, careful not to jostle him.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I know it’s been a while since-”

“Try to rest, Ignacio,” she said softly. “We can talk later.”

She looked him in the eyes for the first time in an hour or so. He looked better than when he arrived, but he still looked terrible. How had Nacho gotten himself into this? She patted his arm gently, keeping her hand there until she fell asleep.

___

I don’t currently have a tag list for this fandom, but please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works.

Thank you so much for reading!

[jowritesthingss]

Excuse Me Sir This Is My Emotional Support Eldritch Being

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing(s): n/a

Rating: Teen (for swearing)

Content Warning(s): rabbits, food/drink, mild(ish) swearing, not!Sasha, eldritch beings, spoilers through early s3-ish

Length: 2,190 words

Brief Summary: The archival team adopts a rabbit. (Part one of the Emotional Support Eldritch AU!)

AO3 link in reblogs bc Tumblr is a biatch!

*

“What is it?”

Jon levels a suspicious glare down at the fluffy blob comfortably stretched out in the middle of the overstuffed break room couch.

Tim blinks owlishly at him from behind his mug of tea. “A...rabbit?”

“Yes, but are you sure it’s a rabbit?” Jon asks insistently. “Not a—a spirit, or...an animated doll, or a clown in disguise or something?”

Sighing, Tim sets his tea down on the counter. “Look, I get the whole ‘suspicious of us being murderers’ thing—no I don’t, actually, but that’s beside the point—it. is. a rabbit.” For a good measure, he walks over to sit on one side of the rabbit, reaching a hand out to the little guy’s fluffy head. If a rabbit could smile, he suspects this one would be doing so as it leans up into his hand.

“No fleas or ticks...or worms, so it’s not some Jane Prentiss Pet Sematary crossover, I promise—” Tim rolls his eyes, “—the veterinarian confirmed as much when I brought the poor thing in. Out of the mud and the rain of the gutter,” he adds, not even attempting to hide the guilt-trip. He wishes Martin were here, with his ridiculously effective puppy-dog eyes.

Tim knows this is Jon he’s talking to, but surely even he can’t be that cold-hearted. He rather thinks that Jon will enjoy not being alone anymore down here during all his late nights. If he’d let himself, surely Jon would enjoy having company in the form of a teeny tiny creature that can’t and won’t harm him—which, uh, certainly is not why he’s lying about his current flat not permitting pets, no siree.

“...Fine. Whatever.” Jon points an accusing finger at him. “But we’re not keeping it,” he stresses. “The moment you find it a different home, it goes. The moment.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tim chirps, although as he begins a staring contest with the rabbit’s curious red eyes, he has no intention of actually doing as Jon says.

Martin chooses this moment to walk through the door. His eyes light up. “Aw, is that a rabbit?”

“No, this does not mean you’re allowed to bring in more strays,” Jon snaps.

The light in Martin’s eyes fades. “Okay,” he says mournfully as he crouches to pet the rabbit, sulking.

-

“So what should we name him?” Tim asks Jon when the Head Archivist comes into the break room the next morning.

“Oh—my—” Jon startles where he stands by the counter, attempting to make himself some toast with the Archive’s horrible fifteen-year-old toaster—toast that now splatters across the floor. Somehow in his sleep-deprived stupor he must’ve missed Tim sitting on the couch with a white rabbit on his head. He never seems to really notice Tim, but at this point it’s fine enough; Tim has accepted that the guy has impossibly poor taste.

The rabbit clambers down from Tim’s shoulders, jumping off of the couch and padding over to investigate the new human(?) and the mess he made.

“How about Thumper?” Tim puzzles aloud, stretching leisurely and acting as if he doesn’t notice Jon frantically scrubbing up raspberry jam and trying to avoid the rabbit’s investigative snuffles all in one. “No, no...that’s too cliché.”

“I really don’t see the point in naming it when it shouldn’t be here more than a few weeks,” Jon comments, shooing the animal in question away before it can try to lick up any jam.

“Maybe Joe?” Tim continues loudly, as if he hadn’t heard the other. When the rabbit ambles back over to him, he scoops them up, pressing their noses together. “Ligma?” He shakes his head at the rabbit. “No, no. We need to have more sophistication as we go about this.”

“You could do with applying that sophistication to your work,” comes the grumbled retort.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jon abruptly turns to burn another piece of bread in the toaster.

-

“How about Marshmallow?”

“What on Earth—” Jon shrieks, jumping in his desk chair, and a sheaf of papers is sent flying around the office.

“The rabbit. Should we call him ‘Marshmallow’?” Tim smiles as innocently as he can manage, standing out in the hall with his head peeping into his boss’ office. “Marshie for short?”

“I am in the middle of a statement!” Jon sputters. “Get out!”

“Okay, okay....” Tim fluidly shrugs his shoulders. “What about ‘Bob’?”

“Out!”

But Tim continues to pop into Jon’s office unannounced throughout the day, tossing out name suggestions. He even manages to rope Martin into doing it too, and notes with savage delight that between the two of them and his work, Jon doesn’t get much more than a moment to wallow rest for the remainder of the day.

Between the two of them Tim and Martin manage to compile a surprisingly long list of names:

Snowball,

Posy (Martin is partial to this one because he thinks it’s cute),

Bungen Leitner,

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt (“is that too American of a reference for a fanfic taking place in the UK?” “what?” “what?”),

the Bunholding,

Michael (Jon is especially averse to that one for some reason),

Cottonball,

Fluffy Bastard (Tim’s own favorite),

Bugs Bunny,

Eldritch Horror (Tim tosses that one in as a joke; no way the rabbit that eats his own shit is some kind of otherworldly being),

Big Bungus (“it’s a play off Big Chungus!” “d’you seriously think anyone else here even knows what memes are”), and

the Vampiric Count Sir Maximillianus-Who-Is-Also-A-Werebun

(Despite badgering Sasha multiple times in an attempt to get her thoughts on the matter, the only name she offers up is “Dinner”, which makes Martin cry, so that one is out.)

None of the names quite seem to fit the little white puffball that has now taken over the realm of their break room, however—so Tim and Martin find themselves going back to the drawing board. They reluctantly leave the Institute at the end of the day, still without having decided upon a name.

-

“JON JUNIOR!” Martin screeches excitedly the next morning as they’re congregating once more in the break room, zombie-like before their tea and mid-morning snack time (primary schools don’t get all the fun, okay).

Jon and Sasha startle, and for once even Tim himself jumps. The rabbit doesn’t seem to care much where he is, nibbling at some hay in his corner litter box.

“I—what?” Jon asks, flabbergasted, although he manages to not drop his toast this time. Character development.

“We should name him Jon Jr! After you!” Martin explains eagerly.

“Absolutely not,” Jon tries to say, but before he can finish, Tim is jumping in.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” he says, grinning broadly. “Thoughts, Sasha?”

“I’m not emotionally invested in this.” Sasha shrugs, uncaring. “I’m going back to my desk.” She takes her drink and walks out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.

“All right, since Sasha doesn’t care, I’ll decide her vote for her,” Tim says, carefully containing his glee. “So that’s three votes for and one against, then. Majority rules.”

“What? No!” John protests, but Tim is too busy looking at the rabbit for confirmation.

“What do you think, little guy?” He walks over, bends down, and lightly boops the rabbit’s nose. “Are you a Jon Jr?”

The rabbit twitches his nose in agreement and poops.

“Well then!” Tim stands, clapping his hands together. “That’s been decided upon.”

No, it hasn’t,” Jon insists, but Tim cares little for his boss’ objections. He’ll accept his fate as Jon Senior eventually.

-

To Tim’s utter surprise and fascination, it happens sooner than later.

Jon, Tim quickly realizes, is a lot like the one dad who says “no dog” and then ends up loving the dog more than he loves his own children.

Despite his initial objections, the daft fool ends up getting caught up in Jon Jr’s big, innocent, rabbit-y gaze (worse than even Martin’s puppy-dog eyes, they conclude gravely), and by the end of the day Friday Jon has announced that he supposes the rabbit can stay with him over weekends and holidays.

“We’re still not keeping him,” Jon reminds them all, even as the rabbit gathered in his arms, giving his nose kisses and knocking his glasses askew, says otherwise.

He gets caught trying to sneak the rabbit into his office on more than one occasion, but Martin raises a fuss about it.

(“He’s all of ours! Jon Jr is our department’s mascot now,” Martin protests defiantly. “You can’t take him away from the rest of us.”

“Yeah,” Tim adds, mostly just to stir up drama—he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. “You can’t just swoop him up and file him away like one of your statements.”

“Just don’t let it get out and chew at my electronics,” Sasha says, distractedly typing something on her phone, probably to that weird new boyfriend.)

To stave off the imminent coup, Jon Jr becomes an officially-declared resident of the break room. He slowly amasses chub around his middle and a cardboard kingdom of bunny toys, houses, blankets, and treats. A rabbit could want for nothing more.

And perhaps—perhaps a human could want for nothing more, too, Tim thinks as he looks down at the figure curled up on the sofa, rabbit nestled against his chest.

He doesn’t love the man, not by a long, long shot—doesn’t even particularly like him half the time—but Tim can’t deny that the scene is adorable. And, regardless of his very vocal protests, Jon Jr may very well be what Jon Sr needs to finally process things and move the hell on with life.

Tim smiles grimly. It’s about damn time.

He quietly closes the door to the room and heads back towards the Archives. He’ll leave Jon to wake himself up.

(And to discover for himself that Jon Jr has peed on his pants leg.)

-

Of course, this is the Archive we’re talking about, so naturally the peace is abruptly shattered, and everything goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Tim isn’t entirely certain what happens or why, but all of a sudden Sasha isn’t really Sasha, and he and Jon have gotten backed up and cornered in the tunnels as this not-really-Sasha stalks towards them, predictably with the intent to kill, just like the rest of the spooks they are so lucky to deal with.

Tim and Jon Sr slowly back away until they hit a dead end. Meanwhile, Jon Jr licks at Tim’s arm—he’d been scooped up as they ran into the tunnels, Tim doesn’t entirely know why—and despite the fact that they are most probably about to, y’know, die, the little kisses almost feel strangely reassuring.

The thing-that-is-not-Sasha cackles, her—their?—its?—voice distorted and echoing throughout the tunnels. It stalks towards them.

All of a sudden, Jon Jr wriggles loose and leaps smoothly down onto the ground. He scampers in front of Tim and Jon, heading towards bitch-give-me-my-Sasha-back.

“No! Get back here!” Tim hisses at the rabbit, even though he knows it’s pointless. He hates to admit it, but he’s becoming rather fond of Jon Jr, even if Tim mostly brought him in to piss off and totally not help Jon. Jon—who, speaking of, seems to be equally fond now, judging by the deflating tire of a terrified squeak he makes, and the adorable immature grabby arms he makes at the little bugger.

“Junior,” Jon calls out, sounding like a toddler who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real (he is, they have the statements to prove it, he is). And Tim wants to laugh, albeit hysterically. The first time he sees his brick wall of a superior cry and it’s over a rabbit, and he’s not even going to have time to gloat over it because they’re about to die. “No! You’re going to—”

Jon Jr stops and sits in front of wholly-absolutely-totally-not-Sasha-what-the-fuck, who looks down at him, bemused through its murderous bloodlust.

The rabbit lifts a dainty paw up to his mouth, and suddenly—suddenly it’s twisting and huge, towering up to the ceiling of the tunnel, its skin hairless and tinted a sickly, glowing gray, with five, six, seven...a whole lot more limbs than a rabbit is supposed to have.

The not-rabbit unhinges its now meters-long jaw and snaps up the creature.

Tim and Jon stare at each other, wide-eyed.

There is a loud gulping sound, then a deafening crack, and suddenly there is a very normal white rabbit sitting in front of them again, carefully cleaning one paw with a very normal pink tongue.

“Wh—” Tim chokes on his own words.

The holy-shit-it-really-is-an-eldritch-horror-after-all stretches, yawns, and flops over in a dead sleep.

“...We’re keeping the rabbit,” Jon says faintly.

“I—yeah.” Tim nods, light-headed. “We’re keeping the rabbit.”

-

Jon Jr the rabbit-slash-eldritch-abomination gets a very hearty dinner of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumber peels that night.

-

(Tune in next time* for the terrible, terrible realization—“Jon Jr is a girl?!” (Also why is there another dead body again, dammit, can’t we go one week))

Fin

First || Next

*

(There may or may not actually be a next time. It depends. )

Behold. What very well may be the stupidest thing I have ever written. Ahem. Did I say stupidest? I meant most brilliant. Clearly I meant it’s the most brilliant thing I have ever written. Obviously.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! I have a bunch of ideas to continue this ridiculously silly AU of sorts, but idk if I’m going to quite yet and am not certain that I’ll be continuing to write for TMA. atm I’m focused on a different fandom, and I’m only on s3, so the really big idea I had has to wait, anyway.

Want to chat or be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Compiling some Peppino-centric hcs i have bc i would like to have something to look back on as a point of reference 😌 (this is so long. SO fucking long. Im sorry)

- starting w the basics: hes a short king; 5’2 (157cm). Hes like late 40s-early 50s to me. Hes got brown eyes i never draw bc i like drawing him w dots lol. Hes particular about his appearance and grooms very consistently. Has literally no issues w balding (exposed to balding bears in his youth; thinks they are hot now 😌) and it helps that he can literally cave someones skull in if they speak ill of him. He does have a couple of comfy hats incase his hair decides to be unruly in bad weather.

- very bulky build; think of olympic strongmen/ highland games but short. Visibly muscular arms and broad shoulder, fat chest and stomach, smoother legs (fat layered over muscle; v thick thighs and calves). Hes got surgery scars on his lower back from a bullet wound (only entry/no exit point). Debated giving him a scar around his sternum from heart surgery or some other crazy injury he had but im not sure yet; the bullet extraction scar is definitely staying tho.

-does NOT work out; he used to wrestle in his late teens/early 20s but otherwise he was (still is) a man who did lots of physical labor around his childhood home and grandparents shop. Continued the cycle when he got his own home and his own restaurant; cheaper to do his own (extensive) repairs than call for specialists/contractors when u are Fucking Poor.

- he DOES exercise; he is fond of jogging. He does this alot postgame, usually in the early mornings before he opens, and at the beach on his days off. He had it drilled in v early in his life that he Needs to stay active, so he will roll out of bed and do this almost daily. On his days off he will have random people come and join him; usually pepperman or noisette. Its too tedious/boring of a task for gus and noise, and vigi is out cold until sunrise at minimum.

- he owns a HOUSE; he does not rent an apartment. This is bc i think it would be reasonable to assume that anyone who OWNS a restaurant was at some point, well off enough to own a house instead of renting. And i like the idea of him using this house as collateral; if the shop goes under, so does his home (more stress for him…). (Ive seen other people treat his shop like a duplex ie shop on the lobby level and an apartment/living space on the second floor. This is ALSO v good and coincides w my want to have his home tied to his restaurant)

- the house is small; two bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, and a basement (where the 1/2 bath is located). BIG kitchen, small livingroom. It is surprisingly well furnished bc of his family donating things to him when he bought the house in his 30s. Lots of older wood based furniture. Hes not grossly messy (like food, bugs, etc) but he is disorganized beyond belief. Lives an ‘organized mess’ lifestyle bc of his high stress. Also extremely apathetic to his living conditions until postgame when his restaurant starts to take in profits again; less stress -> more positive time at home -> aware of the clutter as he spends more time at home.

- drives a beat up lookin car to and from work. Its his BABY; his ol reliable. He has to do lots of work to keep her intact and functioning. Eventually gets a newer car with his profits, but its rlly to help ease the strain on her so that he can take her out for drives occasionally.

-eldest of like 6 siblings; will not try to name them all just know that hes the only boy. Eldest daughter is only a year younger than him. Good relationship w all of them and his immediate family. Very matriarchal immediate family. Only a handful of uncles, his dad, and his grandpappy. Stubbornly cut off contact w everyone after the horrors (war) and refused to accept help w his failing restaurant (prideful). Eventually his (eldest) sister reaches out and he makes amends one at a time. (Gets an earful from his momma)

- works LONG hours. Awake by 4am, in noisettes cafe by 5am, in the shop by 6am. Preps and calls until opening at 9am. Closes at 9pm. Closes up FOR REAL at 10pm. Rinse n repeat. As the shop does better financially, he starts opening later and closing earlier (at the insistence of Gus). He still does his walks and his morning routine, just a little later, and he has enough time at home in the evening to cook for himself.

- on the topic of cooking, he is a good chef all around; pizza is just easier to market and consistently do Correct. Likes food alot. So much…..he isnt picky but he does go 😬 when eating something. Bad. And it happens Often.

- stress baked often. He felt bad about throwing out his food afterwards so he would give it away to his neighbors. No longer stress bakes but he will cook out of boredom which is not as bad but still not the best 😭 luckily he has so many freeloaders that will eat anything he makes (gus and noise)

- this is his second shop; the first one was in a larger city (think similar to pig city). Closed down due to insufficient payments, but reopened on the outskirts of the city (close to the forest) after putting up his house as collateral.

-first shop is where he first meets pizzahead. Hes offered a generous sum of cash to sell the business (which would then be converted into a ph brand shop). Obv declined. Later offered a position in pizzaheads business instead; nearly killed the man when scaring him out of his shop.

- Peppino is NOT some aggressive out of control beast (despite what pizzahead believes). He is vaguely neurotic and it is exacerbated by extreme stress and bouts of anxiety. So funny how removing the extreme stress and sources of anxiety makes him more Normal. (Somewhat encouraged by an official image i saw after i made this hc of peppinos attitude outside and inside the tower. He is relatively apathetic and inside the tower he is borderline manic. More hcs about that too)

- he is relatively fun to be with otherwise. He has some extremely dry humor. Hes incredibly sarcastic. He LIKES customer service…otherwise this would be impossible for him to endure. It helps that he Owns a shop, instead of only being a worker; he can yell at people who are rude and annoying to him and he knows (at least postgame) that he has loyal regulars.

- he is a bit of an asshole; he make snide remarks he shouldnt and hes been in his own fair share of fights bc of it. Has mellowed out drastically as he got a better grip on his emotions postgame. Only the most tolerant could really deal w him prior to postgame (gus) in part due to his anger (response to exacerbated neurosis and ptsd)

- also autistic. Extra stress bc of this. Easily overstimulated and the response to this is anger. Completely undiagnosed lmao but hes like late 40s; he just learned how to deal with it.

-common stress responses: bites on anything, usually his hand (Tried stopping this bc people would TOUCH him if he did that in front of others and that just made shit worse). Grinds his teeth. Jaw clenching. Making A Fist So Tight You Accidentally Cut Urself. Flappy hands, usually w hands balled up into a fist (specifically eyes closed; jaw clenched; head ducked, flappy hands over his ducked head). It looks ‘worse’ than biting but at least the excessive movement deters people from touching him.

- on a more positive note; knows quite a bit of magic tricks. Sleight of hand stuff is his forte. It is good for the anxiety and it keeps his hands busy. He is will consistently say that he is not good w kids but he loves entertaining them; they say the funniest shit and he likes being a bad influence on them 😈. Also teaching them tricks and letting them see behind the curtain is so fun for him; like they are so excited about silly tricks and it makes him feel a little cool….

- he is the kind of person whos like (dad voice) ‘not gettin a damn cat in my house’ and then has blackmail of him passed the fuck out with a cat on his stomach. He feeds the local strays by his shop and he cant help but feed the strays that end up by his house. He doesnt feel confident enough to take care of another animal when its so hard for him to remember to take care of himself so for now he just feeds them. But maybe soon he will take them inside…he also baby talks cats but if u caught him doing that he would kill u i think. (Pov u are the noise)

- silly hc that he has a real last name but he keeps it as spaghetti bc its funny to fuck around w people who ask him. No i dont know what his last name would be but i think it would be funny to have him ‘change’ it for branding and have people believe it. Also i think its funny to think of peppino saying this to ph somehow and he completely runs with it as gospel. Like ‘granny did u KNOW his last name is fucking spaghetti??’

- wrt young peppino, i say that w him being 20-23 in mind. Worked in his grandparents shop during this time. Worked as a line cook for some other restaurants as well (and saved up money to buy his own home while he lived w his parents and sisters). He was generally a sweetheart, just a bit odd (the Autsim and Anxiety), but that was (and still is) his charm point lol

- (SUGGESTIVE) cannot stop thinking of him as a little otter that hung out w older bears in the leather scene. He prob had his best years w them before he had to focus on other shit. He still keeps in contact w some of the peeps that were around his age postgame, and they meet up sometimes to hang along w vigilante. Now that hes older it is a bit surreal to now be the bear he used to look up to in his younger years. But its a bit flattering. Noise and Pepperman are younger than him and they both regard him w the same kind of wonder he used to give older bears. He thinks its cute lol (pepperman bc thats his muse and he sees his body type as PEAK human form, and noise bc i hc him as a bit sheltered despite the fame)

- (STILL SUGGESTIVE BUT THATS IT I SWEAR) adjacent to this; its weird for him to come back to this side of him bc hes been living in survival mode for over a decade. Got his house in his early 30s -> WAR -> comes back traumatized -> leaves family to cope -> dumps money into a restaurant to cope w leaving family. So he kinda missed it alot. Its fun to explore it w gus heehee and sometimes noise when he behaves.

-other things i wanted to mention but didnt know where to fit it. Peppino is a decent artist; he drew the logo for his shop and in general he is good at caricatures (another thing he can do to entertain a crowd; helps w anxiety to know how to not be awkward).

- Peppino is a bit of a mechanic (aka he learned bc he was broke and didnt want to call them for minor problems). Hes not a tinkerer but he likes the joy of creating sm and will make little. Creations. every once in a while. One of these creations is Peshino! He is a wooden windup toy made as a prototype for a more mechanical, mass produced version. He was intended to be sold as a cute little toy to help cement the branding for Peppinos shop but he never got the time or money for it, so peshino is collecting a bit of dust in his basement. Postgame, he takes peshino out and cleans him up; he feels a bit guilty about him….and the Big Peshino found in the tower plays music in Peppinos shop :) He also takes the time to clean him up and keep him functional.

Okay i think thats all i got for now byebye

[catboygretzky]

to answer this anon!!!!!!

OKAY a list of each reason i think [insert team] should win/why they look like contenders -

STARTING WITH ROUND ROBIN (THIS IS GOING TO BE VERY VERY LONG):

boston: reasons they’re contenders - bc they’re good. reason they should win - N/A bc i hate them.

tampa bay: kinda those ‘i never really think about you but apparently you’re good?’ teams. i think it would be WILD if a florida team won idk i can’t say i want them too but it would be kinda quirky if they did. also they have to stay in hotel x and like? the spite from that may just mean they’re contenders

wsh: see boston.

flyers: contenders because they were on a madcore streak, tho obviously that was months ago. a lot of young talent, mayhaps not a great deal of experience which may have an effect on how well they do. a lot of emotion behind their game, especially with the whole ‘oskar strong’ business (see dupuis, c 2016). also i love them and want giroux to win a cup.

blues: see boston and wsh.

avs: contenders because they have a LOT of talent. i think nate mac is one of the best forwards in the league (nate for hart 2k20) but he’s not their ONLY talent, which is important. again, not a great deal of playoff experience but only so many teams and players DO have that. (but, then again they have multiple cup winners on their team, after all) also i love them.

vgk: i’ll be honest. i feel nothing re: vegas. like, i have no desire to watch their games but i do appreciate how extra and flashy they are and i would kill for flower BUT the fact that they ALMOST won already and haven’t been around long is pretty swaggy and i think that would be cool. also i want flower to have another cup.

dallas: well, i love them and want old man pavs to get a cup. i think their defensive game is SUPER strong and they have two good goalies, which will help with teams that rely on offense. they also have a great deal to prove, and that can really help a team win.

QUALIFYING NOW (I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD BE LONG):

pens: ok i’m not even saying this as a pens fucker, but i think if i had to choose a team to win RIGHT NOW it would probably be pittsburgh. obviously, we don’t truly know, but bc these playoffs are fucking strange, the incredible amount of playoff experience will REALLY come in to play. guentz is back as well, and he’s known for fucking it up madcore in the playoffs. they also have a LOT of depth. ALSO I WANT OLD MAN PATTY MARLEAU TO HAVE A CUP MORE THAN ANYONE IS THAT SO WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE NARRATIVE!!!!!!!!!!! AND I WANT SID TO HAVE MORE CUPS THAN PK*NE!!!!!

canes: again, i love them and therefore that’s the only reason i need. they’re fun and quirky and they give off good vibes. they have a LOT of talent as well, and while a lot of their talent is quite young their captain is already a cup winner (also i want jordy to win another cup).

isles: they’re.......well they’re average and i don’t REALLY want them to win but i want ebs to have a cup bc it’s what he deserves. also mat barzal’s nostrils deserve a cup. but mostly ebs.

leafs: ok i would like to preface this with ‘it would be very sad if the cup the leafs won was a fucked up one like this’. they have a LOT of talent, obviously, but they really need to get it together fdsjkgh they rely on offense WAY too much, their defense/penalty kill is - well. i don’t want to be rude, but they need to work on that. a lot. i LIKE the leafs, i do!!!!! but there’s a reason they don’t get past the first round, and it’s bc they haven’t shown the GRIT that’s needed for the playoffs. i do wish them the best tho. do it for steve dangle’s new baby!!!!!!

blue jackets: another team i never think about like, ever, unless they’re playing my teams. they don’t.....idk they don’t stick out to me at all but zach werenski has a mullet now so there’s a reason. 

panthers: like tampa, a florida team winning would be sexy bc florida needs the serotonin right now. they should win bc they meow to each other sometimes. is there any other reason than that? 

rangers: see boston, blues, and caps, minus the part about them being good. BUT! i do love a bit of mika and would be pleased for hank obviously, he’s the king u feel. 

habs: ok carey price is my dad and they should win just for him. also the narrative of ‘they sucked so bad but still managed to get into the playoffs’ is kinda fun. i can’t say they’re contenders, but must reaffirm that i love carey price.

oilers: hooo boy. again, i do like the oilers. i want davo to get a cup, i would kill for ethan bear, yamamoto, and ryan nugent hopkins. i think they have a LOT of talent, but like the leafs.....defense, man, defense. they rely on mcdavid and draisaitl and that won’t cut it for the playoffs. AGAIN, I WOULD BE HAPPY IF THEY WON.

preds: i would never go out of my way to root for the preds, but the fans seem to have a fun time ya know? the fans have a fan time and therefore they should be able to have a fun time. they’re...they’re not BAD, but i wouldn’t say ‘PREDS WILL WIN’. they have a lot of fight in them, tho

canucks: again, i love them and isn’t that enough? they have a LOT of (young) talent (ie petey, brock, huggy, etc), and while that’s going to be great for the future, there is the possibility that the lack of playoff experience can be a hindrance. tho a lot of their young talent went to uni, so they have experience in THAT regard. DO IT FOR GUNNAR AND GUS HORVAT AND BROCK’S HAIR.

flames: my feelings in regards to the flames can be summed up by saying ‘i only care about them when they go feral v the oilers’. B U T i love johnny hockey and think he and ratty matty’s handshake is cute. also i have a soft spot for matty, but not big enough that i’d root for them.

jets: god, i truly just do not care about them at all. i tried, but i simply couldn’t do it. there are certain players i like, though! and would be pleased if they won a cup! but i simply feel nothing. i appreciate their morals, though!

wild: another team i simply........never think about. they’re not super good and i have no reason to want them to win, but maybe that’s a good reason for them to win! my apathy! i do love a staal, tho

yotes: see rangers. i hate them and they suck.

hawks: see rangers and yotes. they shouldn’t even be in the playoffs i stg.

[transromanticism]

married au where shawn dies (or fakes his death if we want a happier ending - but gus doesn’t know it’s fake because it’d never be believable if gus knew the truth)

anyways take your pick but gus during either one + the song “i can’t breathe” by bea miller

:)

I WAS A DUMB BITCH AND LOST A BUNCH OF STUFF I WROTE ON THIS BUT PRETTY MUCH: HEY MADISON PLS STOP BEING MEAN? BUT I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS™ ON THIS AU TWO IN PARTICULAR AND NOT TO BE PREDICTABLE BUT NO DEATHS HERE ONLY FAKE ONES:

1) on the early seasons, due to a case of week gone really south, some guy wants to kill shawn. sbpd make him "go missing" (bc faking his death and stuff is too complicated yknow?) and only a selected few, vick+lassiter+jules included, are aware of what's happening. shawn hates it bc well why wouldn't he? he knows it will worry gus so much and he just wishes he could pass like two weeks with his husband in some secluded area or whatever. bonus not having henry worried too bc like even if he's not in the greastest of terms with him, it's still smth yknow?

anyway, the police needs to tell the family (gus & henry), and it goes bad. frankly, gus isn't even sure he registered anything after "shawn spencer is missing" was said. henry, on the other hand, has too many thoughts in his head, because he knows shawn can take care of himself, but it's his kid, he can only but worry. they sort of stay there with no reaction some time after the officer leaves, until gus just breaks and falls to the floor crying. it snaps henry out, and he realizes the gravity of the situation, and he finally hugs gus, in this despair-comfort wet pile in the middle of the living room.

henry takes gus to his parents' house to stay for some time. they both know he wouldn't be able to cope alone, so the best place to stay is with mr. & mrs. guster. those first days are something, for certain. his parents are too soft with gus, the bed's too big, and at random moments he has meltdowns where he can't breathe and it only worries his parents even more. he doesn't go to work, and jules tries to call him to cheer him up, but gus's phone is so forgotten its lost all battery. he only really talks to henry, because at least he understands, somewhat, but it still feels different. he wants to talk about shawn, about the little things he did in the morning, and his obsession with pretty in pink, and so many moments he can barely listen them all, but he can't, his tears won't let him.

the days pass quickly, and gus barely notice them. he's tired, and there's no shawn to sheer him up or drag him to some crazy stuff to do. when gus wakes up somewhat better, he goes to the station and doesn't leave until it's the start of the night and jules takes him to eat something ("you need to eat" "and you need to look better for shawn" "it's not easy like that, gus, please understand" "well it certainly should be!"). gus completely forgets about the case, the reason shawn's "missing" in the first place. well, he didn't forget, he even brought it up to jules, asking if they theorized if that guy was involved in this. but he gave it up, because psych is him and shawn, so it doesn't make to even try to do anything. gus's been sleeping in, staying in bed for too long, schedule totally lost.

it's been a week and something already, and gus doesn't wanna get up. he heard the house phone ringing earlier, and hours later, someone came by, and whoever it was talked in some hushed tones with the gusters. gus deepens himself in the bedsheets so much he might as well not leave today, give up on today and only be a proper person tomorrow (or two days from now). he's almost falling asleep when he hears footsteps coming. "i will get up later, mom" he says, a little muffled by the pillows. the door opens anyway. "mom-" he stops dead and his air goes away. "hi, sorry for taking so long" shawn says with a sheepish grin. gus stares for some seconds and he can already feel the tears starting to form. he jumps from the bed and hugs him tightly, and then steps away to properly see his husband. "you're here" "i am" and it feels very much a soft, tender moment, until gus starts screaming. "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME HERE LIKE THIS? I THOUGHT YOU KNEW I WOULD BE DEVASTATED! DID CHIEF VICK EVEN SEND ANYONE TO INVESTIGATE?" he stops for a second and looks, really looks ate shawn, trying to not laugh at his hysterical husband, but with some tears shining his eyes, too "oh, thank god you came back save to me" he finishes, kissing his man.

2) this time, it's fake death, so this really the only about your ask, sorry kjsksjs. anyway, i'm not really sure on what makes shawn fake his death, but i think something to do with the yin/yang cases. just, yknow, something goes really, really south. (i only vaguely know how those victim/witness protection stuff happen so, sorry) shawn doesn't want to give up on his life, give up on gus, but there's not really another option, it's this, or actually dying, and shawn chooses this. high ranking officers in the sbpd know, and henry knows, but only those people. shawn moves to san francisco, and henry helps him settle down and keeps him noted on how's gus doing.

gus reacts horribly, of course. (i also only vaguely know how the grief proccess happens so, sorry) he's not even sure if he's having a panic attack, an anxiety attack, a meltdown, a breakdown, some episode he doesn't know about, or some mixture of all. it hurts. it hurts so bad. and he hates how people act with him, how it makes everything worse, their words and expressions, it's a punch in an already destroyed but. he's not even sure how the hell he's supposed to plan a funeral like this.

it's in the first days of planning that he starts to question this. his mom say it's denial, "i know it's hard, darling, but remember it will be okay. it's normal to feel like this" but it's different. yes, this denial can be easily mistaken by the usual denial of grief, but it's not. it feels off, the no body and the explanations. he doesn't want to believe in it, but the day of the damned funeral approaches, and he will have to believe in it. thinking about it already makes it hard to breath, he knows if he accepts he will break, and he's trying really hard not to.

gus grows tired, of the empty bed, of the too big apartment, of the little rituals he didn't notice but now feel like a sore thumb that they can't do it, he feels tired of everything. somehow, at some point, he accepts whatever he saw off was just his brain reaching for anything for confirm that this wasn't real, shawn was alive somewhere, waiting for him, etc etc. he went to a therapist, and his grief held to him tighter and heavier than anything ever could, and he never took off his ring.

and then, years after, jules moves to san francisco, just like in canon, and some months later, gus visits her, because she's his friend, and it would be nice to see san francisco. and one day, when he's walking around the tourist traps, he sees shawn. he doesn't believe it, and he can't breathe anymore and the tears start falling, and he hates how it's been years but he still reacts like that. but then shawn starts to go towards him, and gus can barely hold himself up now, because oh my god, shawn is here, he's alive, in flesh and blood, right here in front of him, and he can't believe it, but he does believe it, maybe too quickly, but he does, he doesn't care anything. shawn holds gus, holds his face and tries to dry his tears which keep falling more and more. "gus, gus, i'm so sorry, i'm so, so sorry. please be okay. don't cry. i'm here, don't cry" gus laughs a little, somehow, and he too cleans some of the tears on shawn's face, "look who's talking" he stops for a beat, and another, and another, just looking at and touching shawn, absorving it all "i can't believe it, you're real, i'm not dreaming, i know i'm not. don't ever leave me like that again" he envellops himself into shawn, kissing his cheek dry, and for once, gus breathes like he used too.

[thewhumperinwhite]

FBI AU: Painkillers

Reasonable Question: hey Beau, where tf are your other wips right now why are you only posting this one? Answer: I have homework, and this is the only one I have pre-written :-)

@whumpitywhumpwhump bc ur comments are the only thing keeping me going at this stage lmao

TW for: explicitly referenced noncon, drugs, referenced domestic abuse, Various Medical Things, Cops

They want to take Simon off the case, which is actually kind of--fine with him at this point. The downside is that it takes some wrangling to get him in to see the kid when he wakes up, but Simon’s been working for the Bureau for long enough that when the people in charge see the look on his face, they let him through, even if they’re not sure they should.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting. Rona said the kid was lucid, but to be honest it seems like too much to hope for. He certainly isn’t expecting him to turn away from the Agent taking his statement to look at him with surprised recognition and rasp, “Hey, you’re not dead.”

Simon stares at him, aware that the duty officer--it’s Gus Chase, he realizes with the very small part of his brain not occupied with complete astonishment--is staring between him and the kid, startled.

“You--remember me?” Simon says, alarmed; the best case scenario would be that the kid remembers as little as possible, though maybe not for the case.

Heinrich Arthur Lange nods, a slight movement but still kind of mind-blowing; he’s limp against the pillow but the bed is angled upward and apparently his statement is making enough sense that Gus is taking it down, though he looks kind of green, poor guy.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, mostly to Gus, who shakes his head.

“A break might be good for both of us,” Gus says in his soft voice, and makes kind of a hasty exit.

“He seems nice,” Heinrich Arthur Lange says to Simon. His voice is a little mushy, because of how fucked up his lips are, but he doesn’t sound like he’s had a stroke.

Simon sits down. He isn’t sure he can talk yet.

“Tenor had a gun,” Heinrich Arthur Lange says, still sounding like the only obstacle to his speaking clearly is his torn-up mouth. “I figured he’d shot you.”

Simon shakes his head. Then he remembers that Tenor Bradshaw did, actually, shoot him, and he tries to clear the weird lump in his throat, though he doesn’t quite succeed. “He missed,” he rasps.

Heinrich Lange huffs faintly, and after a second Simon realizes to his complete bewilderment that he’s laughing. “Lucky,” he says.

“Lange,” Simon says, and the kid’s exposed eye flashes.

“Art,” he corrects immediately. Simon blinks. That name hadn’t occurred to him, though he realizes he doesn’t know where a person could go with “Heinrich.”

“Art,” Simon says, then has to stop to figure out what comes next. “You seem--you feel okay?”

Art makes that little airless huffing sound again; laughter when your throat and lips are swollen, Simon guesses. “I’m fucking blazed, pretty sure,” he says, almost conspiratorially.

It startles Simon into a smile, though it feels strange on his face. “I guess you must be. You should be hurting like hell, kid.”

Art glances down at himself; his arm is still in its sling and his leg is elevated so it doesn’t shift. “Yeah,” he says, like none of that is distressing at all. “I hear you got ‘im, though, so. Not that big a deal. And--is Tenor dead?”

Simon nods eagerly, since the kid sounds like it’s good news; it is good news.

Art smiles crookedly; it looks small and out of place under the cannula in his nose and Simon’s heart does a weird squeezing thing in his chest. “Nice,” Art says, and his hand twitches unbelievably into probably the best thumbs-up he can manage, though it seems to be a mistake. “Ouch,” he says, wincing and spreading his hand back out slowly. “He was a fucking creep. He got harder every time I screamed. Hope it hurt.” He says this without any change of expression. “Did he break my hip?”

Simon, who is beginning to feel like he’s having an out-of-body experience, nods helplessly.

“Bastard,” Art says calmly. “Hey, what’s your name, again?”

“Simon,” Simon says with numb lips. “Blake.”

“Cool. Did you kill him?” Art looks at him guilelessly, though the question makes all the air rush out of Simon’s lungs. He knows he must make some kind of face, though Art doesn’t seem to notice. Finally he forces himself to shake his head.

“My partner,” he croaks.

“Cool,” Art says again, almost grinning. “I don’t remember him.”

“Her,” Simon corrects without thinking. Then, still not thinking, he asks, “What do you remember, Art?”

Art looks up at the ceiling, thoughtfully. “I remember most of it, I’m pretty sure. You can ask your buddy, I think I got to the part where they kidnapped us already. He said I could see Karim once I gave my statement.” Art looks over at him, and Simon wrestles his face back under control. “He’s okay, right?” Art asks easily, he clearly already knows the answer, so he isn’t put off by the jerkiness of Simon’s nod. He relaxes back against the pillows, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling. 

“That’s so great,” Art said. “I’m so glad it worked.”

“What worked, Art?” Simon says, his voice sounding weirdly quiet over the sick pounding of his heart in his ears.

“He was in a cult, y’know,” Art says. “He didn’t know he was in a cult. He didn’t believe me when I told him, but he was starting to when they killed me--when they tried to kill me, I guess.” He frowns thoughtfully. “I wonder if Micah meant to do that. If he didn’t kill me on purpose. I guess he might have wanted to keep fucking me,” Art says, like it doesn’t mean anything. Simon puts his hand over his mouth, trying to breathe through his nose; he feels a sudden deep sympathy for Karim Mun, puking all over his hospital sheets; Micah Trent nearly tore this boy in half.

Art must see the movement of Simon’s hand out of the corner of his eye; he turns to look at him curiously. Simon drops his hand and tries to force his face back to something neutral but he can see Art’s expression morph very slowly from mild confusion to something else, like he’s thinking very hard.

“You all know who I am,” Art says slowly, like he’s putting puzzle pieces together through all the painkillers he’s on. Simon nods, since they do, and Art looks at him, his one visible eye clearing, like he’s actually seeing Simon for the first time.

“Don’t let my father in,” he says, his voice very serious. “I don’t want to see him. Don’t let him in here.”

“What?” Simon says helplessly. He can hear voices outside; Art hasn’t been awake very long, in addition to the various agencies that need his statement there have to be nurses and doctors he needs to talk to, and several of them are coming through the door, but Art is looking at him, and Simon leans in close to hear what he has to say before a dozen more important people shuffle him out of the room.

“Simon,” Art says quietly, while the doctor taps Simon on the shoulder. “He killed my brother.”

----

Rona Cowl rarely looks impressed, but after Simon waves the file around in front of her and rants for fifteen minutes, she looks even more unimpressed than usual.

“I know how it sounds,” he tells her, deflating slightly.

“Uh huh,” Rona says. She’s slouching back in a waiting room chair with her arms crossed, the picture of unconcern. “Blake, when was the last time you left this hospital?”

“I’m not cleared to leave yet.”

“Right,” Rona says, drawing the word out in a way that makes Simon’s cheeks heat immediately. “Can I ask how you got that file, then?”

He got it from the police captain, who’s never worked with the FBI before and looked at his arm sling with something pretty near hero worship, and gave him the file on Michael Lange’s accidental death almost before he was done asking. “Doesn’t matter where I got it,” Simon says, and winces inwardly, since that’s worse than making up a lie.

Rona sighs and rubs at her temple, the closest she ever comes to admitting she’s tired. Simon remembers with a touch of guilt that she’s essentially running the case by herself since he’s out of commission.

“Simon,” Rona says, which is a bad start; using his first name is a cheap trick and Rona Cowl rarely resorts to cheap tricks. “Heinrich Lange is a republican senator.” Simon glowers, getting ready to argue any assertion that that makes him immune to scrutiny, but Rona goes on, “I’m totally ready to believe he’s an abusive prick. I’m pretty near ready to believe he’s a murderer. You know what I know for a fact he’s not, though?”

Simon glares at her, since he doesn’t have an answer.

“He’s not a cult leader. He’s not on the Most Wanted list. And he’s not my case right now.”

Simon knows she’s right, which immediately makes him angrier. “Rona, Art was--”

“Simon,” Rona says, sitting up, and really looks at him, in a way she rarely looks at anyone, no mocking in her eyes. “Heinrich Lange didn’t put his son in that hospital bed. Micah Trent did. And he’s got the money to hire lawyers bloodthirsty enough to take any distraction they can and open his cell door with it. You fucking know that.”

Simon does know it. He doesn’t drop Rona’s gaze, though. “Rona,” he says, almost desperate for her to understand. “Art knows that. But he didn’t ask me to keep Micah Trent out of his hospital room. He asked about his father.”

Rona shakes her head, though she looks a bit uncomfortable. “He knows we’ve got Trent in custody. He doesn’t need to tell us to keep him out.”

Simon sighs, runs his hand through his hair. He knows it’s more than that, but he doesn’t have any way to explain it to Rona other than to say he can feel it, and there’s no phrase Rona hates more than that one. “Fine,” he says, defeated, and tosses the file onto Rona’s lap. “I get it. One case at a time. You’re on door duty, though, if I’m not there.” He looks at her, makes her meet his eyes so she’ll know he’s deadly serious. “I don’t want Senator Lange within a mile of that hospital room. You didn’t hear him say it.”

Rona looks at him for a second, and then sighs and waves her hand. “Alright, alright, I hear you. I’ll keep an eye out.”

[anarcoqueer1994]

Andi Mack but absolutely no one is both cis and het

So I loved this idea but got overwhelmed trying to think about squeezing in all the headcannon ideas I have for each character and their gender and sexuality and having it flow well in a single story. So these are a list of my headcannons for each character. I pretty much already picture ever character as either not cis or not straight, or both. Every once in a while Buffy gets straight, cis rights but not often. Anyways, if there is anything particularly interesting I may expand it into a story. I know alot is pretty well established but I needed to collect my thoughts into one list.

Please ignore typos, I'm running on stress and sleep deprivation.

Andi

• Pansexual/pan-romantic, cis girl, she/her

• She and Buffy got that serious pan/bi solidarity. (More on that later)

• In love with her amazing girlfriend, Amber. But both Amber and Buffy were ready to fight anyone who tries to erase her pan identity just bc her SO is a girl.

• Literally Amber almost got into a fist fight with a girl who was insisting Andi was a lesbian even when she was corrected.

• Reminds people constantly that Pan and Bi are not always interchangeable and you should always respect the labels a person asks for.

• She, Libby, and Walker did everyone's makeup and/or face paint for their first PRIDE.

Buffy

• Demi-Bisexual/bi-romantic, cis girl, she/her

• Literally the reason she fell for Marty started with the fact that he was such a good friend. Also she thought he was really cute but will never admit it

• Is tired of trolls online belittling bi-girls validity, especially bi girls in relationships with men.

• Has a shirt that says "My sexuality is not your fetish."

• Loves Marty so much but is tired of justifying her bisexuality to both straight people and gay people.

Cyrus

• Homosexual/Homo-romantic, Cis Guy, He/him

• Definitely a theater gay. Like you can't tell me that he did not listen to "I'm not that Girl" from Wicked constantly when he thought TJ and Kira were dating.

• Literally makes gay puns constantly.

• He and Amber founded Grant's Queer Alliance. Straight, cis folks could be in it but didnt want them in the name like GSAs because straight people don't needed to be centered to be an ally

• Accidentally chaotic

• Ships Ryan and Chad

• Is a Tumblr gay

Jonah

• Heterosexual/Aromantic, Cis-Guy, he/him

• He loves making out but is not a fan of the whole heavy romance emotions

• People tell him constantly that he will feel those feelings someday when he meets the "right person".

• He disagrees.

• "Why can't it just be fun?" He has literally no interest at all in being in a romantic relationship.

• Like at all.

• He is happy with and values his platonic relationships and does not want more than that.

TJ

• Homosexual/Homo-romantic, Trans-Guy, He/him

• He was so stressed out when he realized that not only was he trans, but he is also gay.

• Built up emotional wall and mean persona to let everyone know that he was definitely a super masculine guy.

• He told Amber he was a boy when he was 5 years old, so she at 7 years old, snuck the scissors from their parents' room and chopped off his hair.

• His whole family has been so supportive.

• Cyrus was the 2nd non-Kippen to know he was trans, after Reed.

• Reed was his first crush because in kindergarten Reed kissed TJ on the cheek. That was his "first kiss." The crush eventually went away when he realized he just really wanted Reed as his best friend.

• TJ's mom helped him pick out safe binding options once puberty started. His mom also got him hormone therapy starting pretty early in his teen years to minimize the effects of puberty. He is super grateful.

• Always chaotic.

• Uses "I'm gay" as an excuse for anything.

• Made out with Cyrus in front of some shitty evangelical preacher protesting at PRIDE.

• Cant even picture ever dating a girl and has no idea how Cyrus ever thought he was straight.

Amber

• Homosexual/Homo-romantic, Cis Girl, She/her

• Sapphic queen

• Is overwhelmed by how pretty girls are

• Loves Britney Spears

• Probably too good for you.

• Is ready to ruin anyone's life if they say anything homophobic or transphobic to her girlfriend(Andi), Best Friends(Cyrus and Iris) or her little brother. (TJ)

Marty

• Heterosexual/Hetero-romantic, Trans Guy, He/him

• Runs fast to outrun that dysphoria.

• His family was not supportive like TJ's but TJ and his family have his back.

• Unsafe binding methods until TJ forced him to be safer

• Big dumb boy energy

• Is so proud of his girlfriend all the time.

• At a track meet, some asshole guy from another school kept telling Marty to go run with the girls because there is no way he can keep up with "real" guys.

• Marty beat every guys time and won in both events he participated in: Sprinting and Long Distance.

• He still can't believe how lucky he is to have Buffy as a girlfriend.

Libby

• Pansexual/pan-romantic, cis girl, she/her

• Attracted more towards fem folx but she has dated both fems and mascs.

• Polyamorous

• She and Walker are currently dating and are the cutest SAVA couple.

• Her other partner is Iris. They met through Andi and Amber. At Andi's 16th birthday, both Iris and Libby were there and they clicked right away.

• She was very open to Walker about this and they were so supportive.

• Best aesthetic

Walker

• Pansexual/pan-romantic, non-binary, they/them

• Polyamorous

• Obviously with Libby

• Recently broke up with their other partner so only dating Libby right now.

• Loves to wear androgynous, slightly more masc. clothing. As they gets older, they are getting more daring in their feminine clothing elements though

• They can't picture just feeling like one set in stone gender.

• Has days where they gets a little dysphoric about their body but has other

• If one more boomer says "They" is plural, so help me god.

Iris

• Homosexual/Homo-romantic, trans Girl, She/her

• She and Amber became friends in the third grade when a mean guy called her freak for wearing a dress to school. The guy said "Boys don't wear dresses." And she started crying and saying she was a girl. Amber saw him laughing at her so she kicked him in the not so nice parts and She and Iris have been friends ever since.

• She finally feel right when she is with Libby. She, herself is not polyamorous but is fine with Libby having other partners.

• Realized she was a lesbian about a day into dating Cyrus but wanted to try to be straight.

• Did not work.

• Literally the sweetest.

• She and Walker actually love playing video games together even when Libby is not around.

Reed

• Bisexual/Bi-romantic, cis boy, he/him

• Loves to flirt... with everyone

• Used to have a crush on TJ

• Even though he and TJ aren't friends anymore, he would never out TJ as trans bc that crosses a line.

• Has dated like half the school

• Will ruin your life and not give a fuck

• He made out with this cheerleader behind the bleachers and literally an hour later made out with her "straight" boyfriend

• Literally loves chaos

Gus

• Asexual/aromantic, genderqueer, he/him/she/her/they/them

• Really only wants friendships

• Pronouns dont matter to him but will alway respect yours

• Doesn't like to be touched at all.

[janfraiser]

(Dis)Order in the Court

Bones/Psych crossover- Caroline Julian thought working with Camille Saroyan and her lab of nerdy geniuses would be the hardest time she’d ever have with a set of witnesses. It takes her approximately two hours in Santa Barbara to realize she was wrong.

For @dawnofthevalkyrie​ bc I was like “hey this scene from Psych reminded me of this scene from Bones’ and it... escalated

Words: 1209 this is not a drabble i fucked up

Caroline Julian strolls into the Santa Barbara police department, a visitor badge affixed to the collar of her dress. She knocks on the door to the office reading ‘Chief of Police’, curious to meet the woman she’s been going over case details with via email all weekend.

“Hello,” greets the chief, “you must be Caroline Julian. I’m Karen Vick. Thank you again for agreeing to prosecute for this case.”

Caroline shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Chief Vick. So, I assume we’re getting straight to business?”

Karen nods. “Of course. I’ve got the files here for you to look over, and my team who’s testifying are ready to come in when you’re ready for them.”

Caroline nods and flips through the file; nothing’s changed since she saw it electronically. “Alright. I’d like to meet your team.”

Chief Vick sticks her head out the door of her office. “Lassiter!”

Caroline raises an eyebrow as four people rise from the bullpen and head their way. “Which one’s Lassiter?”

“The tall one. O’Hara tends to follow him, to back him up and make sure he’s not in trouble, and Spencer and Guster both have noses for drama. They’d be here even if I’d called in an officer they’d never worked with once.”

Caroline nods. Well, this will be interesting.

------

The night before the trial, Karen is going over last-minute details with Caroline and steadfastly ignoring her investigative team. Caroline, however, is not.

“What on God’s green earth are they doing?”

Karen sighs and finally looks out the window. Lassiter and Spencer are in the middle of a tug-of-war over a case file, with O’Hara in the middle, shoving at both of them. Guster is holding a stapler like a microphone and appears to be narrating.

“I wish I could tell you, Caroline. I wish I knew.”

“Are they seriously your best people?”

Karen gives a tight smile. “As a matter of fact, they are.”

Caroline shakes her head. “I just hope they can testify.”

Karen thinks of how Shawn treats the witness stand like a stand-up comedy stage, how Gus nearly has a nervous breakdown almost every time, how O’Hara is a mess in front of cameras and Lassiter going off on tangents. “...right. They... can do that. Absolutely.”

-----

Caroline steps out for some fresh air during a break in the trial. The Santa Barbara detectives are a nightmare. They’re worse at being in court than the squints. When Lassiter had gotten to the stand, he’d somehow turned the topic to gun rights. Spencer hadn’t taken a word anyone had said seriously. O’hara had been decent until the news cameras had shown up, and Caroline hasn’t gotten a word from her since. Guster was so quiet they couldn’t hear him, and so shaky that he spilled the water glass three times.

Shaking her head, she heads back to the group. Karen Vick is clearly not any happier with their performance than Caroline is.

“Lassiter, I know you consider yourself an expert on firearms, but if you so much as think the word ‘gun when you’re not being directly asked about a significant point of the case, your position as Head Detective will be in serious jeopardy.” She doesn’t even wait for him to stop gaping before she continues. “And Mr. Spencer, I have had it up to here with your wisecracks-”

“Ah, Chief, I’m gonna stop you there.” This gets several raised eyebrows. “For one, that sounds like a butt thing, and for another, none of us are wise.”

Karen drops her head into her hands, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is exactly why I pulled your father out of retirement. But no, he just had to retire again.”

Caroline decides she’s had about enough of this. “Round two, people! Get your acts together! Come on!”

-----

Around the time Shawn starts accusing the jury of cheating on their romantic partners, Karen gets a text from Henry. I am so glad that’s not my job anymore.

She’s really not in the mood. Screw you.

I can see you struggling not to break something in the background.

Goddamnit. Stop texting me. I can only deal with one Spencer at a time.

With that, she turns her phone off.

-----

Caroline can tell Vick’s team is impressive. Spencer notices things others don’t, Lassiter is one of the best cops she’s ever seen, Guster is intelligent and kind, and O’Hara is made of steel underneath her sweet perfume and shining smiles. Except, they’re not showing it. Their a mess on the stand, barely managing to prove their points. She’s confident they can win the case, yes, but this is the most stressed out she’s been in a long time. They’re ridiculous.

She folds her arms and looks at Shawn. “Cher, the jury is not your peanut gallery! Hang up the jokes!”

“Oh, I’m just getting started.”

Karen finally loses it. “Mr. Spencer, that is enough! Detective O’Hara, for the love of god, stop smiling for the cameras and please, try to point your boyfriend in the right direction!”

Juliet turns bright read. “Oh, he’s- I mean, we’re- I’m-”

Caroline doesn’t care what O’Hara says, she’s a fool if she thinks they miss the quick kiss she gives Spencer during the next break. She doesn’t think the news cameras miss it, either. The prosecutor raises an eyebrow at Karen, who looks very much like she’s considering drowning herself in the decorative fountain. “Of all the times for her to not freak out over the cameras...”

-----

Karen sits in her office, drained from the previous day’s legal proceedings.Her team had been a goddamn mess. They’d made newspaper headlines, complete with a front-and-center shot of O’Hara and Spencer kissing. She can see the cheery psychic showing the photo in question to his girlfriend right now. O’Hara drops her head onto the desk. Karen can only hope the embarrassment will make her think twice next time.

The chief glances at the pile of paperwork on her desk, then shakes her head. Not today. I need time to recover.

-----

Caroline bustles into the Jeffersonian for no real reason other than to speak to the head of the lab. “Dr. Saroyan,” she begins. “Please remind me the next time I complain about you and your people being too smart for their own good that you’re not half as bad as the nightmare in Santa Barbara.”

Arastoo Vaziri, holding two mugs of coffee, chuckles. “I take it you didn’t enjoy your West Coast adventure?”

Caroline shakes her head. “That was damn near the most disastrous trial of my life, and that’s counting the one where Dr. Hodgins destroyed evidence.”

Cam laughs. “Well, I’m glad that gave you perspective. To be honest, I’m a little worried about how bad that would have to be to be worse than us.”

“You don’t know the half of it, cherie.”