#it's like they murdered her MULTIPLE TIMES IN FRONT OF ME BEFORE WE EVEN GET TO THE END. I CANNOT

[demigod-of-the-agni]

FF7 REBIRTH SPOILERS!!!!

when i tell you i was crying in this sequence I MEAN IT

[vividxpages]

౨ৎ˚⟡.⭒˚no parents, big house⭒˚⟡˚౨ৎ

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 4400

summary: with his family out of the house for one night, Jacaerys and you decide to make the most of it.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, wine drinking, they’re both just really in love with each other, smut (making out, dry humping)

a/n: This is my first time writing smut for Jacaerys, I hope you like it, let’s get through this big hiatus and be good to each other! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤍🍕💋୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you rang the doorbell of the Targaryen-Strong household, you could already hear screeching coming from behind the door.

Smiling to yourself, you shifted on your feet, the staple of pizza cartons in your hand warm on your palm. A bag hung over your shoulder and excited shivers ran through you at the prospect of spending the entire night over at Jace’s place.

Your boyfriend’s mother and her husband had decided to go out tonight, a rather rare occurrence with multiple boys under their roof and Jace and you had decided to make the most of it. Privacy often was an unknown word here and to both Jace’s and your embarrassment, the two had been caught making out on his bed (in various states of undressing) by his siblings enough times already.

Tonight though, there had been a compromise.

Jace was allowed to spend the night with you, but only if Lucerys took the others to see a movie tonight and the brothers were in charge of making dinner for everyone beforehand. Jacaerys had agreed in a heartbeat and butterflies had taken wing in your stomach when he texted you the plan later, accompanied by three red hearts.

Although Jace was a decent cook – you could confirm this, talking from experience – the pizza had been your idea. And if Jace’s brothers did not love you enough already, the door opened and you and the stacks of pizza were greeted with shouting and frantic hugs before these whirlwinds of dark curly hair disappeared down the hallway in excited chatter and you stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Hi.” You smiled brightly as he quickly took your important delivery from you.

“Hi.” He breathed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as always when you two shared a moment. He was wearing his favorite pair of gray joggers and a white shirt, his hair adorably put back in a bun that had you staring at him, utterly in love and anticipating your stay in his home tonight.

Behind his back, a sudden scream could be heard and a pillow flew through the air. You grimaced at the chaos seemingly going on in the living room and your boyfriend’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he threw a stern look over his shoulder.

“I swear they were behaving before; I think we had too many sugar cookies earlier.” He sighed, stepping aside to let you in, his hands subconsciously finding your waist on its own. You leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, inhaling the delicious smell of his cologne.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mom.” You joked. You two quickly closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to suspect someone was getting murdered in here.

He chuckled. “Lucky me then.” Into the vague direction of the living room down the hall, he ordered: “Guys, be quiet or we’re going to eat all this pizza by ourselves and I tell mom you’ve terrorized me and Luke all evening.”

This threat brought silence to the house and you snorted.

“Always works.” He told you before grabbing your hand and leading you to the massive living room, big panorama windows offering a look into the garden of the property. Luke was waving at you from the kitchen, his smile still a little sour since he had to take care of their smaller brothers for tonight, as he prepared plates for everyone.

The twins, now relatively calm and obedient, sat side by side on the couch, smiling brightly at you. You dropped your bag by the staircase, kneeling in front of them and ruffling their light hair. “Hey, you two. Jace told me you’re watching a movie tonight?”

Jacaerys adoringly smiled at you as you talked to his baby brothers, his heart melting as always when he could see how well you were getting along with his family. You had been over enough times to earn yourself a permanent spot in the hearts of all his family members and it fulfilled him deeply to know you were his and you belonged with them just as you belonged with him.

Soon, his family was going to go on vacation and last week, his mother had told him she would be delighted to have you there with them as well. He could’ve cried with happiness and the two of you certainly had celebrated, in your own way.

But tonight, he couldn’t wait to play house with you, only for a little while until you were going to move in with each other one day.

“Thank you for the pizza.” Luke mumbled through his bites and you waved it off, leaning into Jace’s side as the group all settled down on the big couch in the middle of the room. You tugged your legs underneath you and sighed happily as you bit into your first piece, one of Jace’s hands that wasn’t occupied with his own slice resting on your naked thigh.

It had been hot outside tonight and you were still wearing shorts. While you listened to the twins’ stories and chatted with Luke, Jace began to slowly circle his thumb on your knee, the gesture as delicate as the brush of a feather. But it was enough to make you falter, all your nerves seeming to travel down to the small patch of skin being touched by him.

It was enough to distract you and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But this sweet torture of his and inevitably, you giving in to it, had to wait for now.

“Want a slice of mine?” You asked him sweetly, offering him a piece of your pizza covered with cherry tomatoes, arugula and hearty cheese. He nodded, leaning forward and letting himself be fed by you. When you wiped a little blob of sauce from the corner of his lips, Luke had enough.

“Can’t you use your own hands, Jace?” He teased, a knowing grin on his mischievous face.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave to see the movie soon?” Jace shot back, unbothered and unashamed as you laughed and licked your finger clean, causing Joffrey to watch the two of you with a disgusted face. Once, when he still had been a little smaller, he had compared the two of you to his own parents because of the way you always gravitated towards each other, always touching when you could, but you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t regretting this comparison now.

Luke looked to the clock on the wall, startling. “Oh shit, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” The twins echoed and the two older brothers shared a look.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you taught them this.” Jace declared nonchalantly and Luke groaned, taking his plate to the kitchen and telling everyone wanting to see Paw Patrol tonight to hurry up.

You chuckled, kissing Jace’s bony shoulder and standing up as well, taking his plate from him.

“No, no, I’m not letting you wash our dishes, you’re my guest tonight.” He protested and took them to the sink himself. You once again shivered at his words, the prospect of having the whole house to yourselves for a few hours more than enough to spark your wildest fantasies of him…

There was some hustling and bustling going on in the hallway as Jace and you worked together by the sink - a compromise because you always wanted to help - before Joffrey shouted a quick goodbye to you.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” Luke asked his brothers on their way out and Jace groaned, quickly shouting after them: “Don’t give them more sugar!” The door fell shut behind them and soon, you heard the engine of Jace’s car start.

“Don’t worry too much about them.” You told him softly, seeing the way Jace bit on his bottom lip, a common sign that he was overthinking. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know…” He took one of the plates you held up and dunked them into the full sink. “I’m very happy you’re here tonight. I was thinking about it all day.”

“Me too.” You whispered, suddenly short of breath. 

It wasn’t the first time you were sleeping over, but with a house full of people, indulging intimacy with your boyfriend was…difficult. Dinners were spent by the big table with his family and once you retreated into his room upstairs – sometimes after roasting marshmallows over the fire pit outside or playing board games with his competitive parents – the two of you were mostly too tired to stay up any longer. Jace shared a bathroom with Luke, so taking advantage of the luxurious big shower was too risky, and the walls were not as thick as you would’ve guessed for such a big mansion.

So, most of these nights ended cuddled together in his bed, sated and happy and tired, sleepily kissing each other in the darkness until you either fell asleep together or Jace would sneak his warm hands underneath his sleeping shirt on you, ghosting over your body until you’d eventually let out a needy whimper he had to cut off with a kiss or his hand. How often had you come around his skilled fingers, silencing your little moans and gasps in the crook of his neck or breathing them into his mouth? And how often had he softly bitten your neck or shoulder to stifle his moans while you sweetly jerked him to completion, giggling to yourself when he had to stagger out of bed shortly afterwards to find a tissue for your sticky hand?

“Is there something you’d like to do?” Jace asked you, ever so eager to make sure you were the most comfortable you could be. You thought of the sun chairs outside on the terrace and how lovely it was the stargaze together or the pool, its crystal-clear waters flickering seducingly. You thought of the shower, your gaze flickering down to Jace’s subtle but strong muscles, subconsciously licking your lips.

But you also had not seen him all week and you desperately wanted to relish the quietness of his home with him before everyone else came back later tonight.

You shrugged, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I just like to be with you. Maybe we can finish up here and watch a movie and cuddle?”

Jace wanted to melt at your innocent suggestion. “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll dry the plates; you grab us two glasses? Dad brought a fancy wine yesterday.”

You found the bottle in question quickly, your eyes widening at the fancy label around it. “I’m not sure if this is meant for us, Jacey. This is expensive-expensive.”

Jacaerys threw the towel over his shoulder, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to him. You had listened to the radio as you worked and an old school love song was echoing through the kitchen now, your boyfriend goofily swaying to the beat and wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll buy a new one first thing tomorrow. We can act like we’re adults tonight.”

“Jace, we are adults.” You laughed as he twirled you, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers playing with the stray curls in his nape. You sloppily swayed to the beat, lost in each other’s eyes and smiles and you knew you were not ever going to love anyone else the way you loved Jacaerys. There wasn’t space for anyone else, because you were sure your whole heart only consisted of him.

Eventually, you filled – and emptied - those wine glasses and danced through the kitchen, your laughter echoing through the house, making it your home for the night. You exchanged some giddy kisses and his lips tasted like heavy wine and when you pulled back, his dark eyes laid hazily on you.

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth once more, the wine in your system making it hard to think.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

Neither of you had any idea how you managed to stick to the movie, but a little later, you found yourself on the couch, one leg thrown over Jace’s, your head safely nestled in the crook of his neck. Jace had dimmed down the lights of the living room and prepared a bowl of snacks for the two of you while you had changed into something more comfortable.

Now, it had gotten dark outside and the black void of the garden rested to your left while Jace rested his chin on your head, absently picking up some popcorn from time to time as you watched the movie. Earlier, you almost could’ve not hidden the mischievous grin on your face as you quickly snuck under the blankets on the couch, Jace’s back still turned to you. You had picked one of his soft shirts to wear and underneath it, which he had not noticed yet, you were only wearing panties. The lacy, soft pink ones he loved oh so very much.

Jace had returned to caress you mindlessly, his fingers wandering up and down your naked leg and the steady motion made your eyelids drop from time to time, a small yawn escaping you as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

Jace squirmed, not entirely unpleasant. “Hey…’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You breathed back, one of your hands finding a good spot on his toned stomach, the fabric separating your palm from his warm skin almost too much to bear. Like this, it went on for a while, both of you focusing less and less on the movie on the big flatscreen and more and more on the little touches you gifted to each other. Wanting, unspoken questions, disguised by innocent affections.

A while ago, he had turned a little, one of his clothed legs having found the perfect spot between your thighs, still held back by the fluffy blanket draped over you. But you were slowly having enough of useless fabrics between the two of you and Jace’s lean leg between you wasn’t exactly helping to ease the growing pull in your stomach.

You shuffled even closer and Jace tore his dark eyes away from the screen to look deeply into yours, his plush lips slightly agape as he watched you grind your hips forward, your hand drifting beneath his shirt to ghost over his skin. You felt the muscles in his stomach tense underneath your touch, his breath ghosting over your lips and when he finally dared to capture your mouth with his, you let out a relieved sigh.

Forgotten was the movie that had not interested you from the start as Jace blindly grabbed the bowl of snacks and moved it out the way. His hand drifted over your thigh as he delicately cupped your cheek, making your blood tingle underneath his soft touch, and finally snuck underneath the blanket.

You grinned against his lips, tilting your head to give him more access as a shaky sigh escaped him, his fingers trying to feel where the seam of your shorts began. Instead, his fingertips brushed over silk and lace and his mind short-circuited.

He pulled back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looked at you through them. Both of you were breathing hard, with flushed cheeks and arousal coursing through your veins. He looked at you like you were a miracle, not believing how he managed to end up with such a lovely creature. You pushed your thighs together as he slowly licked his lip, feeling already that your precious panties were going to be soaked very soon. And to think that he had not even gotten started…

“Jace…” You whispered, almost a whine as his thumb brushed over the lacy material, his pupils blown wide as he leaned forward and kissed your neck. You threw your head back, whimpering as his teeth dragged over a sensitive spot. “Please.”

He peeled away the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and looked down, your shirt messily pushed upward to reveal your tummy and the soft pink panties. You swore you could see the dragon in him, his family symbol just lingering underneath the surface. His knee was still resting between your thighs, not yet giving you what you craved so much. Your mouth watered as his darkened gaze landed on you again, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip. He whispered, his hoarse voice sending goosebumps through you; “You’re the most beautiful girl…god, you’re driving me insane with how much I want you.”

You exhaled shakily. “You got me.”  You nodded, trusting him with your whole being. You both had known how this night would’ve ended and yet, you could never prepare yourself for the intensity of your feelings for Jace. Your hand freed his hair from the scrunchie tied to it and you brushed through his soft curls.

“I love you.” Jace murmured and attached his lips to your neck once more, finally having some mercy on you as he pushed his knee forward and making you cry out. The rough fabric of his joggers pressed against your thin, wet panties, the delicious pressure making you weak in the knees. You threw your head back, your arms naturally resting around his neck as you pushed your chests together, sinking into the pillows behind you in bliss.

Jacaerys paced the rhythm, slowly grinding against you with his thigh, feeling your legs    quiver as little lightning shot through your core with each of his motions. Cuddling with him for so long had heightened all your senses, making it hard to concentrate as you pushed your hips forward, riding his thigh as he peppered kisses against your skin, drawing aside the shirt from your shoulder so he could leave a loving mark there, too.

With a particular enthusiastic buck forward, you made him hiss, your little whines and whimpers having made him rock-hard and straining against his own pants. You placed two fingers underneath his chin, drawing him up into a desperate and messy kiss and his hands on your waist tightened their hold.

“C’mere, baby.” He murmured into your mouth, his thigh still rubbing against your most sensitive part. “In my lap, up you go.”

You let yourself be hoisted up until your knees were placed on either side of his slim hips and you gasped into his mouth, your core now deliciously pressed against his length. He placed his shaking hand into your hair and your hands found purchase on his chest, helping him to take it off and throw it somewhere else.

You giggled, head spinning with pleasure as you were juggled around in his lap by him wriggling out of these damn joggers off, your laugh suddenly cut off when he bucked his hips up into yours, the outline of his dick fitting perfectly against you.

“Can I take this off?” Jace asked you breathless, playing with the hem of your shirt and you pecked his lips encouragingly.

“Yes, please.” You could feel his heart beating fast underneath your palm. “I might go insane if you don’t.” You bit your lip and Jace groaned, quickly nodding as he lifted your shirt over your heart and tugging you close against him so you wouldn’t be cold at first.

“Anything you want.” He mumbled, eyes glazed over with love as he looked at you, his fingers ghosting along the underside of your chest, his thumb soothingly touching one of your nipples. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and then, you did not talk anymore, driven by the growing need for each other now. You started to grind your hips forward again, hissing at how amazing the friction felt for now, the little gasp Jacaerys let out only encouraging you to continue like this.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to brush your hair back, caress your chest or guide your hips with them. You felt the mixture of the wine from earlier and the warmth in your core get to your head, the room around you spinning as you found another fantastic angle which made his clothed dick rub over your wet clit just right.

You let out a long-drawn moan, doubling your effort and leaning close to Jace so he could hear every little sound he lured from deep within your body. And in return, he made sure you heard him, his gasps soon turning into the sweet whines you loved so much. There was a wet patch on his briefs as you looked down and you had been a mess anyway and none of it mattered the slightest if he only continued to move you around in his lap like he did now.

“’m close…” You told him, brows scrunched together and eyes closed in pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him. Jace was watching your every movement, fascinated how someone as delicate and sweet as you could really belong to him, peppering kisses on your exposed chest and tugging you forward hard, back and forth on his dick, again and again, a thousand nerves in both your bodies alight.

“So perfect for me, so sweet…” He mumbled and your core clenched around nothing at his sugary affirmations. He kissed your cheek, your neck, over and over again, feeling as your grasp on control continued to slip. “Wanna see you come, my love, fuck- I love you so much…”

“Love you.” You whimpered, mouth a little o-shape, sweat on your forehead and Jace could not help himself, he needed to feel you.

His hand disappeared in your panties, one of his fingers finding your achingly hot clit as the other gathered up your wetness. You keened loudly, doubling over in sweet and utter defeat, immediately caught by his arms and held against his chest. You could’ve sobbed with pleasure as he rubbed one, two, three circles on your clit and then you exploded into a million stars, shattering into stardust right in his safe embrace.

Your orgasm tore through you like a crashing wave and Jace held you through it, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, groaning deeply from his chest as he felt himself spill into his underwear, the friction and your sweet sounds too much for his system. You still rode him and his soaked fingers, chasing the high he had gifted you, his fingers continuing to guide you through it all, only slowing their efforts when he felt you twitch with little aftershocks and overstimulation.

Your body slumped against his, breathing heavy and hot as you let out a satisfied smile.

He kissed your temple, hugging you close and closing his eyes as your heart beats slowly calmed down again until they were almost beating as one. You let yourself be held by him, tiredly drawing little hearts on his chest and smiling happily as he kissed your cheek.

“Feeling good?” He asked quietly and brushed back your sweaty hair.

You lifted your head, nodding timidly as you kissed his freckled nose. “Amazing. And you?”

“Perfect.” He smiled blissfully and when you shifted to get more comfortable, both of you grimaced at the sticky feeling. “We made quite a mess, huh?”

Your eyes widened and you hid your face in his neck. “Oh god, do you think anyone will notice?” Suddenly you could not believe you both had let this get so far, in the living room of his family as well-

“Nah, everyone won’t be home for another couple of hours and we can air out the room through the terrace doors.” His eyes sparkled as they looked you over, tucked against him, perfect in every way. “We’ll clean up here and go up to my room to clean you up, okay? Does that sound good?”

“And we’ll cuddle?” You wanted to know, a safe and sacred part of your soul only coming to show itself when Jacaerys was taking care of you like this. To know he knew what you needed and to simply let yourself be led by him made your mind blissfully empty yet full of love and adoration for your boyfriend.

“Yes, love, of course we’ll cuddle.” He pecked your cheek and helped you stand up. (But then again, this whole thing had started out by simply cuddling too, didn’t it?) When you lifted your arms obediently, he slid his shirt back on you and collected his own from the floor, arranging the pillows neatly and folding the blanket like nothing inappropriate had ever happened here.

You laughed as you tried to walk on wobbly legs, only to be scooped up by Jace before you could even reach the staircase. “I think we ruined your favorite underwear.” You whispered into his ear and he blushed madly.

“You can wear one of my boxer shorts if you want.” He offered and you nodded quickly, always a little thief when it came to his clothing. He carried you upstairs, mindful so your legs wouldn’t bump into anything, and gently set you down on his bed once you reached it, kissing your forehead one more time before he rummaged through his closet and found you something to sleep in.

It was ridiculous how happy you felt, how unbelievably in love you were with Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong. You watched him with soft eyes, nearly melting when he cleaned you up with a warm washcloth first, then helped you dress and slid into his twin size bed with you in his arms.

You kissed his smooth jaw, getting comfortable in the familiar safety surrounding you. His fingers were stroking up and down your spine in an easy rhythm.

“I think I’m going to give your brothers gift cards for the cinema for their birthdays.” You mumbled sleepily against him and he laughed, the sound like bells in your ears. 

With it, you drifted off into a wonderful, dreamless sleep and he followed you soon after…

When Rhaenyra came back later that night, finding her sons passed out in their beds, she couldn’t help but peek into her oldest’s room, finding the two of you sleeping peacefully and entwined with each other. 

In the morning over breakfast, she kept it to herself that the TV had still been running and you two had left the terrace door open…

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @earth4angels @princessvelaryon

If you would like to be tagged for Part 2, let me know with a comment <3

[cleolinda]

The Scariest Movie I Ever Saw in a Theater: The Ring

I'll tell you up front that the story I'm going to tell you is about "The Ring (2002)," in the sense that it is about The Ring in the year 2002.

See, I don't know what The Scariest Movie Ever is. A quick google says that the consensus is The Exorcist (I haven't seen it, because I never felt like scheduling a day to freak myself the entire fuck out). But horror is specific, and not just to a person, but to a time and place, even. When I saw The Shining as a teenager in a well-lit living room with other people, I didn't even really flinch, but I bet it would play very differently to me now. I don’t think The Ring is at the top of anyone’s list, but twenty years ago, I had a personal interest in it—at the time, I was running a dinky little Geocities site devoted to movie news. Links curated and compiled from all the other, bigger sites I followed—basically, it was the linkspam format I have used on multiple platforms, including here on Sundays. And so, as someone who followed theatrical releases pretty closely for two or three years, I saw the trailer for The Ring, and I immediately knew it was going to be huge.

To locate you in time, this was just after three self-satirizing Scream movies and the Overcomplicated Serial Killer films of the '90s. The Ring was something completely different: chill aqua-blue color grading a good 5-6 years before Twilight; a mournful Hans Zimmer score; no jokes, no quips; and a slow, inexorable sense of doom. Grief, even, given that the movie begins with the death of the main character's niece. What immediately struck me about the first trailer was 1) the melancholy of it, and 2) how much it doesn't explain. Onscreen, you get the title cards,

THERE IS A VIDEOTAPE IF YOU WATCH IT SEVEN DAYS LATER YOU DIE

Concise! Understandable! A woman (Naomi Watts) is freaking out upon discovering that her young son has just watched it! Admirable job setting up the premise and the stakes of this entire movie in thirty seconds flat, without even any dialogue. That's all you need to know, and thus, the remaining minute of the trailer can do whatever it wants, and what it wants to do is be fucking weird. Echoing voices, TV static, a closeup of a horse's eye, ladders, a girl with dark hair, people reacting to things we don't see, drippy doorknobs, rain. Characters don't give us the whole plot in convenient soundbites of dialogue (like they do in a later trailer); we just hear lines, overlapping, murmured out of context—

did you see it in your head? she talks to you... leading you somewhere... showing you the horses... you saw it. did you see it in your head? she shows me things. Everyone suffers.

That you saw it has lived in my head ever since, and not once have I charged it rent. But the "best" part is Naomi Watts screaming at the end, because you don't hear her voice; you only hear this heartless telephonic beeeeeeep. It's 2002 and I'm watching this trailer, thinking, I have no idea what the fuck I just saw. This is going to be huge.

And it was, to the tune of $249 million on a $48M budget.

At risk of recapping what you might already know, Ringu, aka Ring, is a media franchise that spiraled out from a trio of Koji Suzuki novels into Hideo Nakata's film Ringu (1998), a landmark of Japanese horror, plus several other movies, some TV series, many comics, and even a couple of video games. The overarching story is about a murdered girl/vengeful ghost named Sadako Yamamura whose rage and pain have created a cursed video tape, you watch it and you die unless you pass the tape around like a virus, seven daaaaays, etc.

The "ring" in question is the rim of a well. Keep that well in mind.

The movie I saw is the U.S. remake, which itself had two sequels. (The iconic Sadako is now named Samara Morgan. Keep her in mind, too.) Director Gore Verbinski moved from The Ring to Pirates of the the Caribbean (!), and so Hideo Nakata himself would direct The Ring Two. I... honestly have only seen the first one. And I was right, it was huge, and it kicked off the American J-Horror Remake genre, for better or worse. But what gets forgotten about The Ring is its marketing campaign, which I followed pretty closely for my doofy little news site.

It was inspired.

The story of The Ring is partly the story of the sea change in the media landscape—how we watch movies. And the story of its marketing is a picture of the very last years before social media changed the wilderness of the internet into something that feels so big, like a billion people could see anything we say, and yet so small—only a tame handful of places to say it, owned by three or four companies, and corraled by algorithms.

Back around 1997-1998 or so, I worked at a video store (Movie Gallery, where the hits were there then, guaranteed) for about a year and a half. By the time I left, we had started adding DVDs to the VHS tapes on the shelves, but we hadn't replaced the entire stock. Video stores might have transitioned fully to DVD by 2002, I'm not sure, but people still commonly had both VCRs and DVD players in their homes. And I remember that The Ring was sold in both formats when it eventually hit home video. Which is to say—you know the analog horror genre today? Marble Hornets, Local 58, The Mandela Catalogue?

Analog horror is commonly characterized by low-fidelity graphics, cryptic messages, and visual styles reminiscent of late 20th-century television and analog recordings. This is done to match the setting, as analog horror works are typically set between the 1960s and 1990s. The name "analog horror" comes from the genre's aesthetic incorporation of elements related to analog electronics, such as analog television and VHS, the latter being an analog method of recording video.

Okay, but this is just what home media was like, and 2002 was at the very tail end of that—boxy black VHS tapes that degraded with time and reuse were just how we lived. At the same time, I'd been using CDs for music since about 1991, and all our software installs came on CD-ROM discs; a "mixtape" by that time had shifted to mean a rewriteable CD rather than a cassette tape. In college, I—well, I'll plead the Fifth as to whether I downloaded mp3s via Napster, but I was also taping Mystery Science Theater 3000 on VHS over the weekends. It was Every Format Everywhere, All At Once, and we kept half a dozen kinds of players around for them. Here in 2023, we stream and download everything invisibly, unless we choose to engage in format nostalgia. (I've already run into the problem of Apple Music deleting songs I really liked, due to this or that licensing issue, because I was really only renting them.) The year The Ring hit theaters was the edge of a last shimmering gasp of physical media where iTunes had only come into being the year before, and iridescent discs were still mostly what we used, but cassettes, both video and audio, were still viable. And so, people did not think it was terribly weird when they started finding unlabeled VHS tapes on their windshields.

Movieweb, quoting TikTok user astro_nina:

"Their marketing strategy was essentially 'let's get this tape viewed by as many people as possible without these people being aware of what this is, sort of raising intrigue," she says. One way they achieved this was by airing the tape, which allegedly marks its viewers for death within seven days, as a commercial with no context. The video would air between late-night programming "with no words, no mention of a movie, for like a month...so people would run into it and it would just go on to the next thing, and people would be like, 'what the f--k is this?'"

I remember seeing the Cursed Video as an unexplained ad at least twice, by the way. That TikTok also indicates that DreamWorks straight-up sent copies of the tape to Hot Topic stores, as well as planting them under actual movie theater seats. While running my movie site, I heard at least one story of someone finding a tape on the sink counter of a restroom at a club. Did the marketing department actually plant tapes in bathrooms—or did a freaked-out recipient leave it there, hoping to dodge the "curse"?

(I haven't embedded the Cursed Video here, by the way—but I could have. If you'd like to see the American take on it, you can watch both the full version and the shorter variant that appeared in the movie itself. A text description of what the fuck you're even looking at is here [content note for both: blood, insects, animal death, body horror, and suicide by falling]. The original version from the Japanese film is shorter, and it's eerie rather than gruesome.)

BUT WAIT, THERE WAS MORE: DreamWorks had something of an alternate-reality campaign going with a handful of in-character websites. This was only a year after Warner Bros. ran the groundbreaking "The Beast" ARG for A.I.: Artificial Intelligence: "Ultimately, fifty websites with a total of about one thousand pages were created for the [A.I.] game." (I lurked in the Cloudmakers Yahoo group.) Marketing for The Ring did not go anywhere that in depth, nor did it need to; it was both a smaller film and a smaller story. I saw at least two “personal” websites (seemingly amateur and a little tacky, like my own), but the one I particularly remember was about someone who owned/trained horses? I'm not sure if it was meant to be the actual Anna Morgan character—Samara's mother—or maybe someone who had noticed that the Morgans' horses were disturbed? I'm not even sure anyone even remembers this but me. Reddit users dug up a few other archived websites, but they're about Sadako, the curse and/or videotape; they aren't as subtle or character-oriented as the site I remember. (Honestly, I wonder if weird shit like "What Scares Me" or "SEVEN DAYS TO LIVE" were made by fans rather than a marketing department, but who knows.)

[The “About” page from Seven Days to Live on the Internet Archive.]

[The entirety of An Open Letter on the Internet Archive. “UPDATE” is a now-blank pop-up. I would bet $5 that it was originally a pop-up of the cursed video.]

I need to point out here that Facebook did not exist in 2002. It would not exist for another two years, and Twitter wouldn't exist until 2006. Even MySpace was not a thing until the next year. I didn't start my Livejournal until October of 2003. What we had, for the most part, were independent forums and blogs. We also had Creepy Internet Fiction like "The Dionaea House" and "Ted the Caver"; their use of the blog format, of people out there seemingly living their lives until something fucked up went down, gave the stories the shape of reality. And it helped that these blogs had comment sections, sure—sometimes more story unfolded there—but for the most part, an author could "abandon" a blog, and you'd just find the story there via word of mouth. Like the Ring blogs I remember, it wouldn't seem strange if no one replied to you, whereas today, you'd have to hire a writer to sit on Twitter, or Reddit, or even Tumblr, and interact with people in character. Could you do something like The Ring's mysterious, weird-ass blogs today? Would anyone even notice?

So: It's 2002, my head is full of Alternate Reality and eerie images and you saw it, and I'm hype as hell to go out and see The Ring. I'm perfectly happy to go see movies by myself, so I went in the early afternoon (best time to get a good seat). The movie ended up being a sleeper hit, and the first weekend, the public was still sleeping on it, so there were only 7-8 other people in that theater, grouped in maybe two clusters. I was off in my own little pool of darkness in the upper right quadrant. Functionally, once the lights went down, I was alone.

Despite some middling reviews at the time, The Ring is something of a horror classic nowadays. If you want a scary movie this Spooky Season, check out The Ring. Or don't, because it nearly killed me.

We're at the last, I don't know, third of the movie? And Our Heroine has tracked down the origin of the Cursed Videotape to some creepy mountain motel or whatever. SPOILER, it turns out that it was built over the Cursed Well (everything in this movie is cursed) that Our Villain was thrown into—that's why Sadako/Samara is a vengeful wet murder ghost crawling out of TVs now. While investigating this decrepit hotel room, intrepid journalist Rachel and her, who is it, her ex-husband? her kid's dad, idk, discover the well under the creaky old floorboards. And then, wouldn't you know it,

NAOMI WATTS FALLS INTO THE WELL

NAOMI WATTS FALLS INTO THE FUCKING WELL

THAT'S WHERE SAMARA'S BODY IS

[The rather slapstick moment when Rachel falls into the well. Does not include what actually happens next.]

I go absolutely rigid in my seat. Naomi Watts is splashing around this dark-ass death swamp of a well and I know, with as much certainty as I have ever known anything in my life, that Samara is about to pop up in all her pasty, waterlogged glory. All the sad creepy dread, all the desperation to figure out what the fuck all that shit on the tape was and stop Samara from killing Rachel's son, all the horrible contorted victim faces, all the alternate reality I’ve been soaking in, it has all come to this. I have to leave the theater. I cannot be having with this. I have to be gone from this place. My legs do not work. I cannot feel them. I am frozen. I want nothing more in this life or any other to get up and leave this cavernous pitch-black room, and I cannot. I start praying for death. I want you to understand that I am not trying to be flippant or humorous. This is genuinely what went through my head. I was too scared to even think, "You know, you could just pray to pass out or for motion to return to your limbs or something." No, I sat there in The Ring thinking, Please for the love of all mercy just let me cease being.

You know that scene in Mulholland Drive (also starring Naomi Watts)? Winkie's diner and the EXCRUCIATING tension? It was a little like that, except I wasn't watching it, I was experiencing it, and Samara was my dirt monster out behind the diner.

Except that the jump scare didn't actually happen. I mean, yes, Rachel finds Samara's body down there, but—I don't remember exactly, please don't make me go watch it again to tell you what actually happens. It's played more sympathetically on Rachel's part, as I recall, and she and her ex get Samara's body out so that she (Samara) can have a proper burial.

And then it turns out that this is not the end of the movie. It turns out that Rachel has Fucked Up.

I think I was relatively okay through the rest of it, although the climax is Samara emerging from a TV in her full glitching swampy glory to scare [SPOILER] to death. I don't recall praying for death twice. There's a point when you're so exhausted from fear chemicals that you're like, yeah, this might as well happen. Bring it, Soggy. I did have a hard time prying myself out of that seat afterwards, though, and my mom says that when I got home, I had the classic thousand-yard stare. How was the movie?

"It was great," I said, and I meant it.

I've seen things that were objectively scarier (I watched much of The Haunting of Hill House from behind a pillow, to be honest), and it's not like I've never experienced fear in real life. But I respect when a movie that can make me feel so intensely, and there's something weirdly precious about the way horror is a safe roller coaster, as it's often been said. So I love telling the story about The Time The Ring Nearly Killed Me—a movie that actually made my body stop working—and I love thinking of how embedded in a specific time and place that movie was for me. The last gasp of VHS when the Cursed Videotape still seemed plausible; the way the internet was still wild and weird and free; where I was in my life, keeping up so avidly with all the movie news, and finding myself in such a little pool of darkness early one afternoon. It's the scariest movie I saw in a theater; that's the alchemy of circumstance.

[trendywaifus]

↳ i’m like the wind, baby!

turns out the infamous serial killer is pretty hot and stupid so you take advantage of that. — inspired by scary movie.

↳ featuring, ghostface! stelle

(cw)— fem! dom! reader, reader is a pervert, stelle has a cock, humiliation, vaginal sex, penetration, blowjob, overstimulation, dubcon, handjob, teasing, cursing, pet names, injury

you yelped at the abrupt sound of the shitty telephone ringing through the kitchen, breaking the ominous silence. with a racing heart, you stalk over towards the phone. sighing heavily through your nose, you picked up the phone reluctantly,

“ hello? look, this isn’t funny, stop calling my—“

a deep feminine voice interrupts you,

“ i’m going to kill you, i’m going to chop you up into pieces and stuff you into a trash bag. “

you gasped in shock, “ wh-what the fuck? who are you, how did you get my num—“

“ i’m in the house. “ the woman giggles on the other end. you immediately pace over to the living room, looking around the room frantically as they continued to taunt and giggle into your ear like a child.

“ i can be anywhere, i’m like the wind, baby. where am i? “

your gaze landed on a pair of black shoes sticking out from the side of the couch. brows furrowed with confusion, you responded back, “ uhm. .you’re behind the couch? “ what caused you to be puzzled even more was the genuine confusion in their voice upon your discovery.

“ h-how, how did you know? “

you wanted to face palm so bad.

“ because your shoes are literally poking out from the side of the couch. “

clad in an all black costume with the rumored ghost face mask, the killer immediately stands up, groaning with the phone still pressed up against their ear through the mask. “ okay, okay— let me try again. turn around! no peeking! “

fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turned around. grunting and rustling bounces of the walls of the living room. was this really the killer that supposedly committed multiple brutal murders?

“ okay, now you can turn around. can you guess where i am now? “ they asked, giggling. you turned back around, already noticing the knife poking around from behind the curtains of the large window. “nooo, i don’t. where could you possibly be? “ you inquired sarcastically, slowly walking out the room, hoping to sneak towards the front door to escape.

“ i’ll give you a big clue! “ they popped out from the behind the curtains, somehow jumpscaring the absolute shit out of you. you dropped the phone in terror and sprinted towards the stairs. before they can follow behind you, they randomly slipped on the wooden floor. hearing the loud thump accompanied with a soft groan, you whipped your head around to see what happened. your jaw dropped in shock at the mask and knife strewn about on the floor.

“ holy shit! you’re a woman?! a handsome looking one at that! “ you gawked, looking over at the grey–haired woman in awe. at this point, you’re not even scared anymore. “ seriously, now i don’t even mind you being a dumb serial killer, why don’t we settle this in bed? “

a deep blush appears on her cheeks. “ you’re such a freak! i’m definitely cutting off your tongue first! “ she hurriedly slides her mask back on and grabs her knife before running up the stairs after you. “ and i’m the freak! “ you quickly grabbed a random vase from a small shelf and threw it at her. it shatters on her head and stuns her for a few moments, giving you enough time to run up the last flight of stairs and dash to your room. you snatched the bat from your closet and hid behind the door.

not a second later, she comes rushing in the bedroom, breathing heavily. “ shit, why is this mask so stuffy? “ she mumbles to herself then blurts out, “ come out, skank. maybe i’ll give you a chance if you let me drag my totally big, super sharp, knife across your pretty skin—“

you tip–toed over to the supposed killer, raising your bat to strike her. her back was facing you which made it quite easy to whack her on the head. “gotcha, you dumb raccoon!” you grinned, proudly watching her tumble over to the bed, groaning in pain. you have her right where you want her. you pounced on the taller woman, taking the knife from her hand and tossed it somewhere in the room. “ honestly, how did i catch you first and i’m suppose to be the victim? “ you mused loudly, flipping her around on her back and pulled the mask off from her head.

she peers at you through her messy grey hair, shockingly beautiful golden eyes dazed from the blow to the head. you kind of felt bad, she reminded you of a hurt puppy. you straddled her hips, pinning her wrists down with both hands. “ i didn’t hit you too hard, did i baby? here, i’ll make you feel better.” you pressed your lips against hers hungrily, not caring about the metallic taste. perhaps you may have hit her too hard because she’s barely even fighting back.

“ lemme go. .” she demands weakly. you pepper kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “ and to do what, sweetheart? kill me? you’re cute. “ you laughed, running a hand over her chest and squeezed one of the supple mound of flesh. it felt like it was little above average. “ tits probably bigger than mine. “

she emits a cute little mewl, a suspicious object brushes against your thigh. curious, you instinctively palmed it. the pretty woman moans loudly, buckling her hips against your hand. “ don’t tell me. .” your gaze skims down to confirm your suspicions. you squeeze it experimentally, she whimpers. you stroke it, it pulsates. “ pl-please stop. .” she looks at you with tears already in her eyes. why was she the one begging and crying?

“ you have a dick? wow, it feels like i caught a rare pokémon. “

you pulled down the zipper of her ragged black pants and freed her cock from her boxers. it stood up proud, not too big or small at all; it was the perfect size with decent girth and curve. “ fuck, how could you be a killer, “ your hand wraps around her cock and stroking it painfully slow. “ but be so fuckin’ silly and dumb? “

“ d-don’t call me dumb! “ she chokes out through her tears, biting her lips to hold back a throaty moan. pre-cum pools out of her mushroom tip, you swiped your fingers over it to use it as lube. you grinned mischievously and dipped down to whisper in her ear. “ but you are, pretty girl. you broke into my home and waste my time to try at your attempt to “kill” me? play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.“ you fastened your pace, fisting her throbbing cock.

she sobs, arching her back in pleasure as she feels the tension tighten in her abdomen. “shit, m’gonna cum—cumming! “ her cock pulsates, thick ropes of cum spurts everywhere and gets all over the sheets and her pants. “ woah, you came so much from just me stroking you, this is practically straight out of a shitty porn scene. “ you scoffed.

exhausted, her chest heaves heavily, mind clouded with lust. the fact that her dick was still hard made your heart jump with excitement. she watches you with tired eyes as you reposition yourself between her legs. “ you still have more for me, good. “ you encircles your lips around her shaft, licking at the remains of her cum. her breathe hitches as she feels your warm mouth fully take her.

you lazily moved your lips up and down on her sensitive cock, taking note of the occasional twitch in your mouth.“ o-oh shit. .! “ she breathes, her gloved hands flies to your head, weakly tugging at your (h/c) locks. the flat of your warm tongue drags itself along the base, leaving trails of saliva and cum. she desperately pushes her hips further against your mouth, allowing more of her cock to inch further to the back of your throat. “your mouth feels s’good! ”she whimpers, fat tears running down her flush cheeks.

in response, you moved faster and albeit sloppily, so did her hips. the lewd slurping noises coming from you completely pushed her over the edge. “ f-fuck, i’m cumming again! “ she throws her head back in pure ecstasy, eye squeezed shut as she cums in your mouth. you swallowed the best you could but there was still lots it gushing out of your mouth and dribbling down her cock.

you pulled away, licking the remains of her seed off your lips. “ w-want m-more. “ she whines softly at the loss of warmth and pleasure. you chuckled at her eagerness and undid your jeans then discarded them on the floor. “ oh, you will. “ you positioned yourself over her length, pulling your soaked panties to the side. “ i’m not gonna miss a chance to fuck a hot, stupid serial killer like you silly. “ lining yourself up with her tip, you slowly sinked yourself down.

your aching pussy welcomes her cock like a blanket. you moaned at the nice feeling of her stretching you out. “ fuck, you even feel perfect inside of me. “ her hands places themselves on your hips and squeezed them weakly, urging you to move. you lifted your hips up, her cock dragging against your walls before slamming back down. “ you’re s’tight. . ! “ she moanful groans, trying her best to keep up with your little ruts. drool escapes her lips, nothing but pleasure and euphoria fills her body. “ I know baby, you can handle it. “ you cooed.

the bed creaks with every roll of your hips, pushing her further into the mattress. grey hair messily splayed across the sheets, face cutely scrunched up, and lips parted open; waiting to be swollen up by your lips—why does she gotta be so—

“ damn stupid?! “ you cried disappointedly, continuing to ride her dick. “ on top of that, a fucking serial killer! “

your supposed attacker was too pussy drunk to even fully comprehend your outburst.

[heterophobicdyke]

One of my aunties was raped and abused by her husband for decades, and when she tried to leave he stabbed the priest who helped her and threatened to kill her entire family including me. She went back.

Another of my aunties was raped and abused by her boyfriend for years. He smashed in the windows of my grandparents house while I was inside, 7 years old. Cops didn’t do shit.

My Nan’s best friend and her kids were chased down train tracks by the husband with a gun, shooting after them. They ran to my grandparents house and he dropped the gun because my pop said he would have to shoot him to come inside and kill the family.

My grandparents next door neighbour’s DOCTOR husband, no proof of abuse before, murder-suicided him and his family.

Another of my Nans (recently dead) had 16 siblings, most girls. They were all molested by their father, my great grandfather. My nan’s sister told us recently that she slept with the door locked and a window open so if he came in she could run. My nan got into a cycle of abusive relationships, suicide attempts and addiction for the rest of her life. She died because male doctors wouldn’t listen to the seriousness her stomach problems.

My dad was extremely verbally abusive to my whole family and emotionally/psychologically abusive to my mum while I was growing up and he only didn’t get consistently physical (he did towards my mum a couple of times as well as smacking us kids) because he saw his own dad beat his mum (the one in the above paragraph) to a pulp multiple times, including when she left because her husband was cheating with one woman and seeing multiple prostituted women.

I have multiple other relatives who were raped and abused by their husbands. One made her fuck a dog.

When I was 15/16, my friends were being taken advantage of 20+ year old men who even made one of my friends give a vile of her blood which he kept on him (and her), as a necklace, and he held a knife up to her throat when they “had sex.” She was told it was kinky and progressive. I found radical feminism on tumblr shortly after and it was the sex styles men have that turned me radical at 16. Not trans stuff. I was ripped from my high school friends and not allowed at any parties involving these men because I didn’t flirt and I didn’t fuck. I was a lesbian (who wasn’t even out at the time). I was a “frigid.”

My high school friends let me be treated this way by their male partners until the relationship would end and I’d have the salt and vinegar chips in hand and cradle them while they broke down that he was on to the next virgin pussy. Sorry but that’s how men see it and it’s how they are.

As an adult, I made really good friends with a bisexual woman at uni. We bonded over being the radical types of feminists. She got with a man. After years together I found out he cheated with a woman I know. At first she was done with him.l, when I told her. But he talked his way around to the point he made her stop talking to ME. Because I told her. In female bathrooms she kept trying to make out with me and tell me how sorry she was that in front of him she had to act like she didn’t know me, as if the only reason I cared was because I was a lesbian and “must have wanted to get with her.” I didn’t! I was there for her as a friend!!!

My cousin got with a dude who gave me a job as a writer. At first, I could write as many words as I wanted. Gradually I realised I was there for him to prove to her family he was a good person to be with. He stopped paying me, it started coming out of her account, and at that point I left the job. She’s not with him anymore—he physically/emotionally/psychologically abused her, starved her cat, hurt her kids—and we repaired our connection.

I’ve always been the lesbian friend/fam member having to watch my OSA besties/family being abused by men while they don’t listen to me. I’ve just got to stand and watch until they’re ready to get with the next abuser.

My family is a normal Australian family. We are not known for having it especially horrible, despite not being well to do with money. This is normal.

I am NOT THE ONE to talk to about how great your boyfriend or husband is and how radical you are for staying with him because you have enough money to donate to your local woman’s shelter. I am NOT THE ONE.

These examples are why I became a radical feminist. But I was a lesbian since birth. Only had crushes on girls and women since birth. Didn’t make a choice. But I think Mother Nature made me lesbian because of the abuse my family—not unlike other families, like yours, your family just might not have been as transparent with you—has endured. As an evolutionary thing. I have a right to discuss male/female relationships so go fuck yourself.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

an old friend, a new start {remus lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you're offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

character: remus lupin x female reader

note: this has potential to be multiple parts, if anyone's interested let me know cause i'd like to write more of it xx

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the carriage to look up at the large, looming castle in front of you. Hogwarts. The castle really hadn't changed at all. It was still strikingly beautiful and so intricately built. Dumbledore took a lot of care to maintain Hogwarts and its grounds and it showed. You lifted your trunk off of the ground and made your way through the grounds to the Great Hall.

The last time you were here was fourteen years ago, the day you graduated. How times had changed. When you were last here, you and your friends were carefree and wild, excited to see what life had in store for you. When there had once been six of you, now only half survived. You hadn't spoken to the other surviving members of the Marauders in years, well Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew (and you believed it was also for betraying James and Lily too. You and Remus fell out of contact a year or two after Peter's supposed death and Sirius's imprisonment. Life got in the way and it was too hard. There were too many memories and it was too painful so the two of you lost contact.

You often wondered about Remus. He had been your closest friend once upon a time and at one point, you had been head over heels for him but he never knew that. You would wonder about his life, how he was dealing with his condition, if he ever settled down...

Little did you know you'd be finding out sooner rather than later.

Professor McGonagall welcomed you as you walked into the Great Hall, "Ah, (y/n), dear, how lovely to see you after all these years." She greeted with a warm smile. She remained the same, a few more wrinkles around her warm eyes but she was the same, "Or should I say Professor." She had a twinkle in her eye, "I always did like seeing our students come back to be Professors."

You smiled, "Thank you, Professor," you said gratefully, glad that your first interaction was with a friendly familiar face.

"Oh," she said with a sweep of her hand, "call me Minerva... How does it feel to be back?"

"It feels good to be back actually... A little strange and bittersweet." You told her, looking around, "Their memories haunt me every single day but it's more intense here." Minerva looked around the Great Hall, agreeing, "I remember my first day getting sorted into Gryffindor and sitting beside Lily... She was my first friend here before I met the rest."

Her smile was wide and her eyes were a dazzling bright green colour, clashing yet complimenting her orange hair perfectly, "Here," she said, patting the space on the bench beside her, "sit with me, will you?" You gladly sat beside her as you introduced yourselves to the other, "It's all so exciting isn't it? Overwhelming but it's exciting to be somewhere we all belong."

You shook yourself out of the memory and apologised to Minerva but she tutted and gave you a warm smile, "Don't apologise, dear. Keep those happy memories of them alive, all of them." Even Sirius. Even though he betrayed the Potters' ending up getting them and Peter killed, "Speaking of the past, I do have some potentially upsetting news to tell you. Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban recently," you nodded, you'd read all about it. You'd seen his face plastered everywhere, crazed and wild, "James and Lily's son, Harry, he's a third year at Hogwarts... As you know Sirius is the godfather of Harry Potter and we fear that Sirius may try and come to kill the last surviving member of the Potter family."

You nodded as she explained the precautions Hogwarts was taking, "Dementors from Azkaban will be guarding Hogwarts. My honest advice is to stay out of their way, the scary buggers." You laughed slightly, "Just... Be on your highest guard. I've warned Remus too. You two know Sirius better than anyone."

You frowned, "Remus?" You asked, "He's here?"

Minerva looked at you puzzled, "Yes. Sorry, dear, forgive me, I just assumed the two of you would still be in contact."

"No... We haven't seen each other for about a decade actually. It was too painful. Too many painful memories."

Minerva nodded, "Well I hope that him being here and with Sirius on the loose, it may rekindle your friendship once again. The two of you were always the best of friends." You were. You and Remus did everything together, "I don't usually like to gossip on students but seeing as you graduated fourteen years ago, I always did think the two of you would be good together." She smiled, a twinkle in her eye, as you blushed furiously, "Anyway, he's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Do you want me to show you where your classroom is?"

"Still fifth floor, right?" You asked her to which she nodded, "I think I should be able to find it myself but thank you, Minerva." It would take a while to get used to calling her that, "Once I'm settled, we should catch up some more." Minerva smiled and agreed and then you walked away.

"Professor Lupin's classroom is on the third floor," she called after you. You didn't have to turn around to know that she would be smirking.

Hogwarts was huge with lots of winding staircases that ended up going to different places but it was like muscle memory. Your legs just knew which route to take. Instead of taking the quickest route to your new classroom, you took a bit of a scenic tour, just wanting to soak up everything old and everything new.

The silliest of memories resurfaced as you walked around.

"Look, Moony!" James grinned as Remus approached the two of you, "Padfoot's going to jump down this staircase. He believes he can do it without hurting himself."

Remus looked to you and you just shrugged, "I tried to stop him but it's Sirius, Rem. We'll never be able to control him." (It ended with Sirius spending a night in the hospital).

You turned a corner, finding yourself in front of a painting that you remembered.

You'd just happened across her standing looking at the painting. It was only your second day so you stopped to see if she was okay. "It's crazy," a first year Lily Evans said with a wide smile, "I'm Muggleborn so this is still all quite new to me but it still amazes me that paintings move."

"My dad's a Muggle," you said to Lily, "I kind of had the best of both worlds. I knew about magic but also knew and grew up with a lot of Muggle stuff like Muggle music, I love Muggle music."

"Oh my goodness," Lily grinned, "me too! Who's your favourite?"

"I love The Beatles-"

"No way!" Her smile was contagious, bright and so happy, "Oh (y/n), we're going to be such good friends."

Then you went through a rarely used shortcut through a painting and through a narrow staircase.

Remus coughed, "I suspect this is seldom used given how dusty it is... How did you find out about this secret passageway?"

You laughed, "Rem, I quite genuinely fell through the painting and landed on the stairs. I went up them and they got me to the fourth floor much quicker! Trust the process. Maybe next time we should bring a brush and do a bit of housekeeping?"

After leaving the passageway you wiped your robes down, they had gathered a lot of dust. You wondered whether or not all the other secret passageways and secret rooms you had once hidden in were still accessible and hidden. You'd need to investigate soon. You headed up a spiral staircase and then after a short walk through a hallway, you were standing in front of a classroom which said in large golden painted letters: MUGGLE MUSIC. You smiled and slowly pushed the door open.

"Oh it's brilliant," you said to yourself, clapping with glee after putting your trunk down. It was quite run down, maybe not loved as well as it should've been but getting it back up and running shouldn't be too much of a challenge. You wandered around the classroom, a fresh lick of paint on the walls, some newer instruments and maybe some plants and the classroom would look a lot better. The instruments you had were in relatively good condition but luckily for you, you had plenty of instruments in much better condition in your trunk.

"I learned a new charm!" Sirius grinned, "Check this out." He swung his bag off of his shoulder and began pulling out various textbooks and things alike.

Peter glanced at you, "What's the charm?" He asked sheepishly, "So far you've just made a mess."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Use your head, Wormtail! Look at the size of my bag and look at the amount of books I just pulled out! That's not all-" he stopped talking and then pulled out, "made sure to pack my handy dandy hat stand."

"You stole a bloody hat stand?!" Remus hissed but even he couldn't hide the smile from his face, "Where's it from?"

Sirius winked, "Just borrowing it, Moony... from Slughorn's office. Anyway... who wants to learn the charm?"

That charm was your second favourite thing you learned at Hogwarts, the first was the charm that Lily taught you afterwards to keep your luggage or bag or whatever you were carrying light, never weighing more than a pound. You lay your trunk on one of the tables, opening it taking out the various instruments you'd carefully packed away. You put them in the instruments cupboard, you'd sort it another day, but just now you wanted to go to your room.

Your office was in the room adjacent to the classroom and then in the room attached to that was your living area. A small bedroom complete with a double bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and then attached was a small kitchen and a bathroom. Your living space was small but more than enough. Your office was a desk, a chair and a few potted plants. There was a bookshelf with various books, a couch and a couple of tables and empty units. You would put your personal record player in here and also have one in the classroom but you would unpack your personal belongings soon. You sat on the bed as you looked around. You could hardly believe that this was your life now, that you were here once again... not only could you not believe that you were here again but so was Remus.

Remus.

You sat upright. He was already here, you knew he'd be in his classroom unpacking and getting ready for the term ahead. A bubble of nervousness suddenly appeared in your stomach as you stood and looked in the mirror that was on the wall. You looked tired but that was to be expected after a five hour journey. You smoothed out your hair and robes before leaving your classroom.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was on the third floor, you remembered exactly what it had once looked like. It was one of your favourite classes when you were a student, it was just fun learning new things and getting to practice magic.

It was then that you noticed someone familiar walking towards you. Inwardly you groaned but you plastered a smile on your face, "Fancy meeting you here, Severus."

Snape sneered at you, "(y/n)... How delightful." He had aged horribly. The same greasy hair, the same large pointed nose, the same dark beady eyes and the same scowl. It seemed he permanently scowled judging by the wrinkles on his forehead. In school, Snape was awful. He was rude, judgemental, bigoted and a bully. And yes, you would then agree that James and Sirius bullied him too but Severus had called his old best friend, Lily Evans, a mudblood and then acted as though he hated her whilst still pining over her. You just didn't like him and Snape, well, Snape didn't like anybody, "I just ran into the werewolf. Already asking me to concoct potions for his... time of the month." Always a cheap shot to make a joke about Remus's time of the month. It was Sirius's favourite thing to do once upon a time.

You nodded, "That's good of you to do that for him. I'm sure he appreciates it."

Snape looked at you displeased, "Obviously."

"Okay, great seeing you, Sev," you said quickly, needing away from him, "let's catch up soon?"

Snape scoffed, "No thank you."

"Ah," you said, patting his shoulder as you moved past him, "you've not changed at all, Sev. Always a pleasure!" Snape looked pissed off as you scampered past him but let's face it, he always looked pissed. You shuddered as you walked away. Fourteen years later and he still creeped you out.

You could hear chatter approaching and you realised that it was the students returning from their summer holidays, coming back to school. You straightened your robes one final time as you walked down the staircase to meet handfuls of older students who were walking up the stairs. You greeted them happily and most of them gave you at least a smile back. As you continued down the steps you saw-

"James?"

Your heart was in your throat, beating hard, as your stomach dropped. You stopped in the middle of the staircase as a young boy, third or fourth year, walked towards you. At the mention of his father's name, his head snapped to you. It was like looking through a window into the past. His hair was just as dark and just as messy. His grin was just as cheeky. He wore the same full moon glasses but his eyes... those were Lily Evans's eyes. You caught a glimpse of the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Sorry, Harry, right?" You asked forcing yourself to smile, "I'm sorry, you just look so much like your father but-"

"I have my mother's eyes," Harry said with a nod and a smile, "Did you know them Professor...?"

"Oh (y/n). (y/n) (y/l/n). I'm the new Muggle Music Professor," you introduced yourself to him and his two, what you assumed to be, friends, "I was really good friends with your mother and father actually."

Harry's eyes lit up. All that poor boy wanted was to know about his parents, "You were? Professor do you think you could tell me about them?"

You stepped aside to let some other students pass, "Of course. Any time at all. My class is on the fifth floor, feel free to drop by whenever. How about we get settled in today and later this week you could come by? Bring your friends too if you wish," you gave a polite smile to Ron and Hermione, "Professor Lupin was also good friends with your parents, that's where I'm off to just now. To say hello to an old friend." Old friends and new starts.

The girl stuck out her hand which you shook gladly, "Hermione. Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley."

The red haired boy rolled his eyes, "No one calls me Ronald, it's Ron, Hermione."

"All of us are taking Muggle Music actually so we'll be in your class." Hermione told you ignoring Ron.

"Yeah after you forced us to take your boring class-" Ron stopped realising that he was insulting your subject to your face, "I'm sorry, I'm sure it's not boring-" His cheeks turned bright pink, as did the tips of his ears.

You laughed, "That's alright. I assume it probably was boring but that'll change now that I'm here, I assure you, Ron. Anyway, I best let you three go to your Common Room and settle in. Come see me whenever you wish, all of you."

"Professor?" Harry said as you went to walk away, "You said Professor Lupin was a friend of my parents?" You nodded, explaining that you'd all been best friends at their age, "Do you think he would come too and tell me about my parents?"

You smiled, "I think that he'd love that, Harry. I'll say to him and we'll arrange something, alright?" You nodded at them once more before disappearing down the stairs and along the corridor. You hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby and goodness he was James's double just with Lily's eyes. Lily's lovely kind eyes. They'd be so proud. You had been so preoccupied you hadn't realised your feet had already taken you to the DADA classroom until you had stopped outside it and there he was. He was unpacking a box of trinkets onto his desk.

"Rem," you said quietly but his keen ears heard your voice and he stopped.

He raised his head and a wide smile grew on his face, "(y/n)," he said back, just as soft, "What are you doing here?"

"Gone and got myself a job. I'm the new Muggle Music Professor." Remus smiled. He knew about your love for Muggle music. It was something the two of you bonded over since Remus's mother was a Muggle too.

All the nerves you'd had about seeing him again vanished as he welcomed you into his arms. You forgot how tall he was, how he still towered over you. Your head was on his chest as you breathed deeply. He smelled the same; coffee and chocolate. A scent that was so comforting to you, so warm and friendly; he smelled like home. You liked that no matter how much time passed, he was still the same dorky Remus you once knew.

He pulled back, holding you at arms length to drink you in, "You look incredible."

You grinned, thanking him as your cheeks burned furiously. Life had not been kind to him, you could tell from the tattered clothes and the beaten up trunk in the corner. He looked in dire need of a sleep but he was still handsome, a little wearier and gaunt with a few extra wrinkles but those warm, honey brown eyes were the same. His scars were more silvery now, like his hair which was still light brown but had greys scattered amongst. He was still as handsome as you remembered but your heart panged knowing that life hadn't been as kind to him.

"So do you," you said with a smile.

Remus rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush," he laughed, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Uh, yeah, good... Yeah. You?" Now it was time for the awkwardness to come.

Remus shrugged, "Can't complain now that I'm here."

"I met Snape," you told him after a moment of pregnant pause. You recounted the whole encounter, making Remus laugh loudly at how you ended the conversation.

"Bet he's gone off to dip his cloaks in detergent now that you've touched him."

"Still won't wash his hair though, will he?" You teased making Remus laugh again. That booming loud laughter that you loved to hear when you were sixteen.

When the laughter died down, you said, "Have you seen him yet? Harry, I mean." You sat on one of the tables and Remus sat on the one across from you.

He nodded, "Uncanny, isn't it?"

"I called him James. It was like looking into the past but with-"

"Lily's eyes."

You smiled, "They'd be so proud, wouldn't they?"

Remus sighed fondly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Oh you know that wherever they are Prongs is bragging all about their Chosen One of a son." You laughed and Remus's smile grew upon hearing your laughter. He'd missed hearing that sound.

"I missed you," he murmured, "I apologise for not being a very good friend."

You shook your head, "I'm sorry too... It was just too painful, Rem. It hurt to see you after... after losing everyone else, after Sirius." Remus nodded, "It still hurts even twelve years later. To see you was to not see them; a constant reminder that they're gone and that we're still here..."

"Survivor's guilt," Remus spoke quietly, "I'd went to therapy when I could afford it... That's what she called it." The two of you were silent for a while before he spoke, "And apparently Sirius is back to kill the last of the Potters'..."

"What happened?" You sighed, "How could he?"

Remus shook his head, "I've been asking myself that since it happened."

You sat up straighter, nudging his knee with your foot, "When I ran into Harry I'd told him that I was close with his parents, said that you were too... He's asked if we could both sit with him and tell him about his parents. The poor boy just wants to know who they were. Would you?"

"Course," Remus said, "Just let me know when and where."

You looked around the classroom. It was still pretty much the same as you remembered it to be just with added decoration on the ceiling, "It's not changed much," your voice was quiet, "it's nice to be back."

Remus stood and extended his hand to you, "Would you like to go do some exploring?"

You took his hand as you grinned, jumping down from the desk, "Oh, I'd love nothing more. Lead the way, Moony!"

And all of a sudden the two of you were sixteen again running around the corridors of Hogwarts keeping your friends in line.

"You're my best friend," Remus said, words slurred from the firewhisky. You were all laying on the floor in the Room of Requirement. James and Sirius were snoring loudly, Peter was hiccupping in a corner and you and Rem were on the floor facing each other, "I fancy you but you're my best friend first and forever." You giggled as he continued, "Don't ever leave me, I'd miss you too much, (y/n)."

As you walked with him, with the memory repeating in your mind, you couldn't help but latch onto his arm, head on his shoulder. His cheeks tinged pink as you did this so casually. Maybe things hadn't changed that much. Maybe things would be like how they once were. "I missed you, Remus... I think good things are in store for us both this year."

Oh please be right.

[matan4il]

Israel's 76th Independence Day

-> Geek fact: Today is the 14th of May, but also the fifth of (the Hebrew month of) Yiar. The Hebrew and Gregorian calendar only coincide once every 19 years. Since Israel was established, this is only the 4th time when we get to celebrate it on a day which is both the Hebrew and the Gregorian date of its founding.

-> Israel's Independence Day start the eve before, with a ceremony that both concludes our Memorial Day for our fallen soldiers and terror victims, and transitions into celebrating our independence. I don't think anyone can understand life here, or the Israeli people, without getting this impossible, yet necessary emotional transition.

-> This year, more than ever, the two days, commemorated one right after the other, feel impossible to separate.

-> We have an Independence Day ceremony. Every year, it celebrates the best of Israeli society. All of it. Jews and non-Jews. 12 Independence Day torches are lit (representing the 12 ancient tribes of Israel) by individuals who stood out in making a change for our society. As you might imagine, this year the ceremony was more emotional than ever before, with an incomprehensible number of heroes of all kinds.

-> Some highlights for me included the lighting of a few torches in the scenes of the massacre instead of all being light on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem. For example, families of some of the murdered at a southern Israeli beach, invaded by sea, lit together a torch at the place where their loved ones were taken away.

-> The Jewish prayer for the release of all hostages, sung by Lior Elmaliach in front of 132 empty yellow chairs (same color as the ribbon that people wear to call for this return).

-> One of the released hostages singing a mash-up of two songs about the sun (re-finding it, and discovering that the sun is inside us), while all the violins around being lit in yellow, and the yellow ribbon for the hostages' return looming larger than life in the background.

-> An Israeli soldier, who fought in this war in Gaza, performing a love song to the Land of Israel on his violin (it was performed in that moment without the lyrics, but the song goes, "The land of our people, the land of our eternity, a land in which we were born, a land in which we will live, come what may"), lit in white, while all the violins around him are lit in blue, the two colors of the Israeli flag.

-> That moment when Iris Chaim, whose son Yotam was one of the three hostages accidentally killed in Gaza by our own soldiers, who right away sent a message to those soldiers that she understands, she's not angry at them, and they're invited to her home, who's been working to lift and unite people's spirits before and since, when she was saying she's the mother of... she named her first born son, but then she had to stop and take a deep breath before saying Yotam...

-> When the flag bearers, outstanding soldiers carrying the flags of all the units of the IDF, did the traditional portion of the ceremony where they form different shapes, but this year they started by spelling the Hebrew word נזכור (nizkor, we'll remember).

-> How soldiers wounded in the current war (enough to need crutches or wheelchairs) participated in multiple sections of the ceremony, including the more physical ones, like the flag bearers' formations (in the pic below: forming Israel's flag).

-> They had a group of kids from different northern and southern Israeli communities who are still, even over 7 months since the start of the war, internal refugees. They got to perform as singers and musicians together with several very successful Israeli singers. The second song they performed felt especially fitting, as it's about going out into the world, strengthened despite adversity.

-> It's not easy to celebrate when the pain is so endless. The other day, I shared this list for our Memorial Day of just some of our victims that we lost, but will never forget. One of them was 24 years old Baruch Korichman. On the eve of Purim 1924, he was walking to his home in Tel Aviv. Out of nowhere, two Arabs showed up and shot him to death, then fled the scene. Even though the British Mandate was in place, meant to hunt the murderers down and bring them to justice, meant to take care of Baruch, no one really did anything. The body was taken to the courtyard of a hospital, Baruch's mom was called, and a small crowd of locals started gathering around, angry and protesting the injustice and the lack of proper treatment. Baruch's mom turned to the crowd and asked them to be quiet, and not stop Jews from celebrating Purim.

IDK how she managed to do that, care about other people's joy even as she was going through the worst nightmare of any parent. IDK how Jews during the Holocaust managed to find it within themselves to go on celebrating Jewish holidays. I just know that they did. And if they could, so can we. We can remember the Holocaust survivors, who survived the worst of what human nature is capable of, who came to the Land of Israel right after the end of WWII, and who saw the founding of the Jewish state, who got to celebrate its creation and first Independence Day. Most talked or wrote about it in terms of a miracle. The State of Israel is still a miracle. All the hatred we've seen turned against it even on Oct 7, while our people were still being massacred, is proof of that. And it is a good thing to remember that, even while we hurt.

On Oct 7, Israeli civilians went out to save their own, because the State of Israel has given them the tools to be able to, to know how, to have the strength, courage and self-confidence to go and tackle the enemy. On Oct 7, Israeli civilians knew that someone was coming to save them. Even if it took time, even if there was no way of knowing who would get there first, they knew an army that cares and wants to save them is on its way, and when I think about my Jewish People, in the shooting pits in Europe, about to be massacred by an antisemitic army, knowing for sure that there is no one on the way, that no one cares, that no one's interested in saving them, I know that as difficult as Oct 7 was, it's not the same, and it will never be the same, not as long as Israel exists. So I will continue to celebrate its independence, even as I know there is no cure for antisemitic hate and violence. We can't eradicate them. But all of us here together have created something that gives us dignity as human beings and as Jews, that our ancestors were denied. We are here, and we are the People of Israel, and we can stand tall in the face of the worst of our haters and murderers. Am Yisrael chai!

(for more of my posts regarding Israel, click here)

[amorechris]

                       Brooklyn Baby

SUMMARY : After a case that hit close to you, not only were the victims paper copy of you, and you had taken on a very heated standoff with the unsub. When you all return to quantico you are greeted with another case, however your boss seems to have a soft spot for you.

PROMPT : "I need a good cry and a shower. So give me like half an hour and then we go kick some ass."

WARNINGS : fluff, mentions of bau gore, cuteness, bau fluff, and more of the cutest fluff, comfort, bad humor

YOU TRUTHFULLY DIDN'T KNOW HOW YOU HADN'T BROKE DOWN, the team didn't either. The case was tuff for you as these victims were a clear lead to who he was really after, you. You had to admit the man was clever, he had picked a state you did college in and did murders there to lure you out there back to your home, Brooklyn. From there things got worse by the minute.

When you were in the stand-down it was after an attack of he purposely crashing into the SUV you had been in on purpose. He had tried to abduct you but even in you bloodied cut up state you had managed to take him down. Though it ended with a concussion, and a bullet graze. It was truly admirable to Hotchner how you showed such strength through the case and the team would've been lying if they said they didn't admire you at all.

Though you should've known that it would come flooding the second you got even a minute alone. So when you had stuffed your go bag back under your desk the team had dispersed to get coffee, bathroom breaks, vending machine snacks, before they went to see what their second case was.

You had sat down and stared at your file covered desk and slowly the lights around you became shiny, your bottom lip quivered unintentionally and slowly your eyes blurred like how they would when you first take your contacts out. You felt the tears falling down your cheeks without even blinking.

You were the person that disguised or hid your emotion through humor, it was a coping mechanism and Spencer had told you that multiple times when you guys would have small outings for coffee and library breaks. However it was just your personality and it was a quality that actually people liked.

You hadn't noticed when Dave came out of his office taking one glance at you and lightly knocked on hotch's window. Soon somebody was standing in front of you and slowly you could hear people like Morgan and JJ asking if you were alright. However you snorted lightly and wiped your eyes.

You looked up at your boss who had discarded his stoic expression and it was replaced with concern. Spencer was already running to the coffee machine, and Morgan was going to get Penelope to come in with her special 'cheer up' stuffed animal. All your teammates contributed in different ways and you all cared foe each other and took care of each other like family.

The thought, the deep of having a family you thought you would never had made you cry a bit harder.

"I need a good cry and a shower. So give me like half an hour and then we go kick some ass."

You had let out a mix of a sob and a laugh before you stood up and and Hotchner put his arm out resting his hand on your lower back. You wiped you eyes thankful you had waterproof mascara and internally cheered that you could cry and not look like a marble painting.

As you reached the door Hotch held it open for you and you spun around with tear stained cheeks and damp eyes holding a thumbs up to your team who had watched and looked worried until you flashed them a smile.

Hotch shook his head sighing and led you out the door and into the elevator and you sniffed wiping your nose as Hotch turned to you once the doors shut.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded and turned to him. "Hotch, I have a question..." you said looking down at your feet.

He turned to face you as you now both stood face to face with backs on either side of the elevator. "If it's time off then, of course."

You smiled softly but shook her head. "No, no. Guess what’s on the menu?" You asked and he shook his head. "Oh god, what is it?" he asked and you snorted.

"Me-n-u."

Hotch unintentionally let out a small laugh but he shut his mouth and stared at you with wide eyes you had the biggest beaming smile.

"I laughed because it was bad."

"mhmm sure, you know you liked it."

"Stop talking."

"But you didn't hear the one about the boats!"

[just-wrting]

Can't Take the Hint

Title: Can't Take the Hint

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: You're having a hard time rejecting guys, thankfully the one you're into helps you out.

Warnings: Creepy guy and smut

Word Count: 2,826

Master List

A/N: This was meant to have more scenes in it, but I've opted to save those ideas for another time. This is also only my third time writing smut so I hope it's not that bad.

“I don’t know Dave. Asking them out seems like a bad idea.”

You hear Hotch’s voice even through the closed door. You want to linger and listen, but there’s a new case. Instead, you knock gently on Rossi’s office door. Within a few seconds, it swings open and Hotch is standing in front of you.

“Garcia said she’s got a case and to come get you guys,” you say. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No, we were just finishing up. In fact, I’ll walk with you if that’s okay?” Hotch moves toward you, and you back up.

“Sure. Though I hope you don’t mind if I borrow Rossi later. I have some guy trouble that I want his advice on.”

For a split second, he frowns. It’s so quick you think you’re imagining it. You study his face intently, wondering if it was just a trick of the light. There’s no reason that he would be upset about you having guy troubles. He’s just your boss, nothing more.

“Rossi’s advice may not be great, he does have multiple divorces. I could help you.”

“That’s actually why I’d like to talk to him about it. He’s gotten used to rejection.”

You give him a soft smile. He chuckles but doesn’t say anything. You know his offer still stands if you ever need to talk to him. He’s a great boss, and you’re grateful to him for being there for you when you need it.

You do your best to pay attention as Hotch and Garcia present your next case. A couple of bodies turned up in a forest on the west coast, and the local police had no idea how they got there. They all showed various stages of decay, indicating that they had been there for a different amount of time each.

“Well, the ME states the body that had been there the longest was there for about a year. Given that there are six bodies in that area that puts us at a murder every two months,” Emily says while placing her tablet down.

“So either he’s doing something to them that takes about two months, or he’s being extra careful.” Rossi rubs his chin.

Reid leans back in his chair. “Based on the ME’s report of the most recent body, he’s most likely torturing his victims for about a month.”

“Great. Cause that’s what we need to be doing, scouring the missing persons reports for a person that could be joining the body pile,” you groan.

Granted, Garcia is lightning-fast and great at sifting through things like that, but you still think it’ll take forever. This is shaping up to be one of those cases that just takes time. Time that you don’t have to be wasting on dead ends and possibilities.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Be prepared for long days.”

—

It’s been over an hour and everyone is just lost in thought. Occasionally someone will throw out an idea, but without doing more interviews and crime scene analysis, there isn’t much to discuss. You take the opportunity to slide into a seat across from Rossi.

“Mind if I ask you some stuff? Take your mind off the case for a second?” you ask. “I promise I’ll be quick.”

Rossi gives you a smile. “Sure thing, kid. What else is someone with as much wisdom as I, supposed to do?”

You relax muscles you didn’t realize were tense. “Besides helping others out, I’m not too sure. So there’s this guy, I see him all the time since he goes to the same breakfast place as I do, and he asked me out.”

Rossi nods. “And you aren’t sure if that’s a good choice?”

“Actually, I know it’s a bad choice. Since the day before I’d seen him with another girl. They’re obviously a thing so I told him no. The problem is that now he won’t leave me alone. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Rossi reaches out to grab your hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze and makes sure to look into your eyes.

“Kid, you didn’t do anything wrong. A man like that is just plain creepy and probably won’t take the hint until you tell him there’s another man you're with. If you need us to, I’m sure Hotch or Morgan will gladly help you play pretend to get him to leave you alone. We’re here to help each other.”

You slowly nod. You really didn’t think you’d actually encounter one of those guys that give off the same energy that serial stalkers have, but you did. Not to mention, it was while you weren't working.

“You’re right. I’ll give it some thought during the case, but for now, that’s what needs our attention. Let’s just hope things go better than they usually do.”

—

Things are not going better than they usually do. Hotch paired you with him and Morgan to go to the crime scene which wouldn’t have been an issue if it wasn’t for the constant drizzle that had started well before you had landed. Nothing says ‘a great day for a walk in the woods’ like rain.

You watch as an officer slips slowly down the hill to reach where the last body was found. The whole area was slick with mud. It’d probably be fun if you were a young boy in your own backyard but as an agent hoping to get an idea of what this dump site looked like in its horrible prime, not so fun.

The rain picks up and you duck under a tree. Hotch joins you while Morgan chuckles.

“I’ll go get the umbrellas from the SUV since you two must be made of sugar. Don’t start without me.”

Shortly after Morgan walks off, another officer approaches you. He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

“You must be Agent Hotchner and Agent (L/N),” he says while giving you a large smile. “Do you need an umbrella? I have one in the car.”

“Oh no thanks. Agent Morgan is returning with the ones he went to get. I can see him now.”

The officer’s smile wavers, but stays firm on his face. “Well, (L/N), I’m Officer Mike Morris. If you need anything, anything at all, let me know right away and I’ll help you.”

With that, the officer leaves. Hotch looks at you with an odd look on his face. You can’t quite place the emotion that’s behind his eyes.

“Here’s the umbrella. You two can share it because I’m not letting (L/N) pull me down into the mud.”

Morgan gets a head start down the hill. You watch him complete the task with ease, and you can’t help but be a bit envious. Sure you can take down grown men, but Morgan makes most physical feats look easy.

“(Y/N)?” Hotch’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You do know that if you need anything, both on the case and off the case, you can talk to me, right?”

His hand rests on your shoulder. You give him a smile and start to head down the slope.

“Of course. You’re my go-to person if I need something, Hotch. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

—

It’s the next day, and you’re sitting at the table staring down a pile of paper. It’s early in the morning, and you think you’d kill for a cup of coffee right about now. Unfortunately, you got up early and were one of the first in the office. That means that there was no coffee for you to have and you have to wait for some to brew.

A sudden knock on the doorway startles you. You whirl around to find Officer Mike Morris standing in the doorway.

“I see you’re into mornings, just like I am. Figured you would want a cup of coffee.”

He sets down a cup of lukewarm coffee. You watch as the liquid settles and realize that the color is off. It won’t taste the way you like it, but you do your best to take a sip. You’re right. It’s not how you’d like it.

“(Y/N)? You left early today so I brought you coffee and breakfast. I hope that’s okay.”

Hotch walks into the room holding a tray of coffee and a to-go bag. He briefly looks at Officer Morris before looking at you.

“Thanks! What did you get me?”

A soft smile spreads across Hotch’s face. He sets the coffee tray down and pulls one of the cups out. You carefully read the label on the cup. It’s made just the way you like. As you take a sip, you feel the caffeine send tingles to your brain and you start to wake up.

“And breakfast?”

Hotch pulls a muffin out of the bag and hands it to you. You're quite grateful for the snack. Nothing says FBI breakfast like coffee and a pastry.

“Thank Hotch. I got up pretty early so I didn’t have a chance of getting food.”

You bury your face back into the papers, ignoring the men. You can feel the tension in the room though. They seem to be locked in some sort of silent fight, over what you can’t tell. A fight over ruining your train of thought is possible, but you can’t imagine that making you useless was a great idea.

“Well, (L/N), I’ll see you later. Don't be a stranger,” Officer Morris says before leaving.

—

“Oh, I call shotgun!” You say as you open the passenger door.

Hotch slides into the driver's seat. “As long as you don’t touch the radio we’ll be fine.”

Before the two of you can leave the parking lot, there’s a knock on your window. Hotch is quick to lock the doors. You frown when you see it’s Officer Morris. He seems to be everywhere. If it wasn’t for the fact that he didn’t fit the preliminary profile, you’d assume he was the unsub.

Rolling down the window, you ask, “ Was there something you needed, Officer Morris?”

“I heard you were headed to see the Willows and I figured I should come with. They’re grumpy and old so they don’t take well to strangers. I actually happen to know them quite well and am off duty now.”

You glance at Hotch, unsure of how you should shut Officer Morris down. Hotch’s mouth is drawn in a thin line and his eyes are cold. You can practically feel the irritation coming off him and you turn your gaze to the clock. Staring at the time seems like a better choice.

“I think (Y/N) and I will be fine. We’re both highly capable agents who’ve dealt with difficult people.”

Morris smiles tightly. “I’m sure (L/N) is an exceptional agent, but I can assure you that these aren’t your ordinary grumpy old people. We got a call once that Mr. Willow tried to shoot the mailman when he got too close.”

You hear the leather squeak as Hotch’s hand tightens on the steering wheel. He’s getting far more than irritated. In fact, you’d venture to say he was getting pissed. It wasn’t hard to tell why. Morris is wasting your time.

“Aaron is a more capable agent than I am!” you blurt out. “So if you don’t mind, we’ll be off. Serial killers don’t wait around for us to find our clues.”

You let Hotch roll up your window and drive off. As soon as you start rolling, you see him relax.

“Man, he just won’t let up. Is there something I’m missing?” you ask.

“If he gives you any more trouble, I’ll take care of it.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Of course.”

—

It finally hits you once Morris grabs your wrist. His grip is tight. You shake your hand a couple of times, but he still holds fast.

“I’ve been hoping that I could get a chance to talk to you alone, (Y/N). I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner.”

The whole time you had been here, Morris was hitting on you. You pride yourself on being able to read people, but you admit that your ability to spot romance is a bit lacking. Unfortunately, you have zero interest in going out with Morris. Not only is he being quite rude at the moment, but you had no intention of going long distance. Not to mention your lingering feelings for someone else.

“Well, given that we still haven’t caught the killer, I’ll have to decline. There’s no time to waste.”

His grip tightens even more before he releases you. His eyes are dark and he’s sporting a tight frown.

“Does Agent Hotchner not let you date?”

You stare at him in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Is Agent Hotchner interfering with your personal life? Does he dictate whether or not his team members can date?”

You shake your head. “No, he doesn't. This is a personal choice. I’d rather not go to dinner with you when I have a serial killer to catch.”

Morris says nothing, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His animosity toward Hotch confuses you. You don’t bother trying to understand it, however. There isn’t anything about this guy that is making sense.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my team. If you need anything, feel free to contact one of them.”

With that, you turn and walk back to the main room. You want nothing more than to have someone tell him off, but you opt not to mention anything. The team has other things to worry about.

—

Once again, Morris has done his best to ask you out. This time making the mistake of asking in front of Hotch. The tension in the room grows thick, and you feel uncomfortable. You can see Hotch seething.

“I don’t think-“

You’re cut off by Hotch. “You are to leave (Y/N) alone for the rest of this case, Officer Morris.”

His voice is icy. There’s a vein popping in his forehead and his hand is tight on the file. There’s no one else in the room to stop the fight that’s about to break out.

“(Y/N) doesn’t need to date whoever you approve of Hotchner. You’d be stepping out of your boundaries by making that choice.”

Hotch strides over to where you’re standing. He tosses the file onto the desk next to you and grabs your face. Within milliseconds, he’s pulled you into a kiss.

His lips are chapped and you let his tongue enter your mouth you can faintly taste blood. He’s passionate about it. One hand reaches around to the back of your head to keep you in place. There’s more force than necessary, and you feel yourself growing light-headed.

You don’t know how long he’s kissing you for, seconds or minutes, and it doesn’t matter. He’s set a fire inside of you and you find yourself whining when he pulls away. He’s careful to keep you close though.

“If you don’t mind, Officer Morris, (Y/N) and I will be leaving.”

—

Aaron pins one of your legs up against your body with the other wrapping around his waist. Your ankle is behind his head and you feel sweat fall from his brow.

“Why didn’t you tell him off sooner?”

You can’t answer his question with anything but a moan. You arch your back as he continues to pound you. Your body craves him and you feel delirious. The only thing you can think about is the way he’s making you feel.

“I could’ve done more to you in that office, but he doesn’t deserve to see you like that.”

Each thrust of his hips punctuates his statement. You can’t even tell what he’s saying though. The only thing on your mind is him. The way he’s filling you up. The way he feels inside of you. The way that each thrust hits that sweet spot makes you moan.

“A-Aaron!” you cry out.

His lips press harshly against yours. With one final thrust, you come undone. Your fingers grip his bicep tightly as you cum and you feel your legs tremble. You’ve been doing this for hours, and you’ve lost count of how many times that was.

When he pulls away, his face is soft. There’s no more anger or jealousy hidden in his eyes and a smile is slowly spreading across his face.

“You aren’t hurt are you?”

You giggle and shake your head. “Just a little out of practice for this. I’ll be a bit sore later but otherwise fine.”

His next kiss is soft and tender. You relish the fact that you’re spending the night with him.

“Good because when we get back to D.C. I’ll have to show you a different side of this. Perhaps after dinner?”

You let your eyes flutter closed. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

[pagannatural]

2.14 Born Under a Bad Sign

-Meg possesses Sam which forces the brothers’ dynamic to develop. Dean really reclaims a sense of himself this episode after spending all season in various degrees and types of turmoil over what to do about Sam. I don’t think he ever really considered killing Sam, but he agonized over his role and what he should do. He lied to a drunk Sam in Playthings and said he would kill him.

- Dean has called Ellen multiple times about Sam going missing, so much so that Dean doesn’t even refer to him by name on the phone, he just calls asking Where is he. Dean says “I’m losing my mind here.” He’s desperate to find Sam. I wonder if Dean ever lost Sam when he was a baby, like at the store or something.

- Dean also says it’s like when John went missing all over again. Dean sought out Sam for help and comfort when that happened. It’s a little kernel of insight into Dean’s state of mind when he broke into Sam’s house in s1, he was probably a lot more afraid than he let on to Sam because he was trying to keep it together.

-when he gets to the motel room Dean kneels in front of Sam, who’s sitting on the bed. He’s off to the side rather than right in between Sam’s legs but when he zeroes in on the blood on Sam’s shirt, on his lower stomach, he starts moving aside Sam’s jacket and touching the bloody fabric. It looks very intimate. Dean reaches directly into Sam’s personal space and even moves his clothes aside to check for injury.

This quick shot of his fingers feeling Sam’s stomach is particularly intimate. Meg!Sam says that he doesn’t think it’s his blood. Dean certainly thought it was Sam’s blood, he wouldn’t have been considering other options at that moment. So Dean is touching Sam’s wound on his lower belly, as far as he and the viewer know. It’s a sexual and feminine image. Although he’s not actually injured, Sam’s body has been invaded and controlled by a demon. It’s a sexual assault parallel, a first taste of Sam’s fall from grace. Throughout the episode, Dean fights for him and refuses to harm him. As long as Sam is still in there somewhere, Dean will protect him.

-Meg is inside of Sam’s brain and body and she has a pretty good understanding of Sam. She’s acting the way she thinks he would and also in whatever way plays to her advantage with Dean, so she has a primary interest in the nature of their relationship. She knows about Dean’s promise to John and to Sam about killing him, so she must have some access to his memories. She plays up Sam’s pleading eyes more than anything, which means she knows Sam’s memories that this has worked on Dean in the past.

- Dean reacts with deep skepticism to the gas station clerk telling him that Sam was drinking, smoking, and behaving violently.

Dean has also picked up on a couple of other specifics that aren’t like Sam: the name he gave at the motel is the name of a Bon Jovi band member, which Dean doesn’t think Sam likes and isn’t one of the names they would recognize for each other; and if Sam did smoke, Dean seems convinced he wouldn’t smoke menthols. He knows Sam so well.

- Dean says that smoking and throwing bottles at people sounds “more like me than you” which tells us that Dean is sometimes an angry drunk and sometimes a smoker, both of which make perfect sense for his character. There’s a lot we don’t directly see on the show.

-Sam moves differently, seems more feminine, and when Dean continues to insist he might not be a murderer he looks annoyed and almost rolls his eyes. Jared Padalecki is so good at being Sam possessed by Meg.

-Meg is basically begging Dean to feel horror that Sam killed someone- a hunter! with a family! caught on camera!- but Dean is like Ah fuck okay I’ll just run through the crime scene cleanup checklist quick and then we can take a nap together at home before we go okay babe? Babe u okay?

- Meg!Sam asks Dean to kill him, kinda using the puppy dog eyes but not quite selling it because it’s not needy enough, and Dean says “I’ve tried so hard to keep you safe…I can’t. I’d rather die.”

This is Dean admitting outright that his promise was bullshit and that he will either save Sam or die trying, and he’s faced so many trials to be completely sure and ready to say it. It doesn’t matter what Sam does. Dean had to understand more consciously his feelings for Sam before he could commit to this because it’s a fundamental part of who he is and his love for Sam. He feels guilty about his love, but he can’t doubt the strength of it and I think this is where he first accepts his role as Sam’s savior. The way he looks at Sam here is with such open love and desire. He’s like Wesley looking at Buttercup.

-Dean calls the phone company to get Sam’s location by pretending Sam is his son. He says “my son” and calls him Sammy and fuck if it isn’t the cutest. Dean is Sam’s dad now. Succession.

-Meg!Sam is so irritated that Jo is carrying a torch for Dean. She seems to be using Sam’s real memories and feelings to get what she wants, and in this case I think Sam is probably annoyed by Jo’s crush and wishes she understood she doesn’t have a chance with Dean, so Meg is using her weaknesses. She really enjoys using Sam’s characteristics and twisting them. For example, after tying Jo up she uses the puppy dog face again and says “c’mon it’s me, you can tell me anything” which echos Sam’s role as sympathetic ear to the victims and other characters. So when she talks about Jo wanting Dean and Dean not wanting Jo and then attacks her in a very sexually charged way, it feels like she’s playing with both their desire for Dean and Sam’s desire to be more like him. She seems to be telling the truth in these scenes, just truths that Jo wouldn’t want to know. So telling her You want him but he doesn’t want you and aren’t I the next best, when Sam in reality does not want Jo, makes Jo into a proxy to act out unrequited love for (and from) Dean.

-Meg!Sam shoots Dean and he falls into the water from the dock and Jo finds him soaked and bleeding and you have three guesses as to the first words out of his mouth (“where’s Sam?”).

-Bobby asks where Dean is so Meg!Sam tells him Dean’s with a girl somewhere. Bobby asks if she’s pretty and Meg’s eyes go black and she says “if you ask me he’s in way over his head.” The visual cue and emphasis make it clear Meg is talking as herself here, not as Sam, and it seems like she’s talking about Dean’s situation with Sam. It’s also a pun because she thinks he’s underwater, but regardless she’s connecting Dean being with some girl and Dean being in trouble because of Sam.

-she also smirks at Dean pretty wickedly and tells him “you wouldn’t wanna bruise this fine packaging” ie Sam’s body that she knows Dean thinks is mighty fine. What I wouldn’t give for her to taunt him more in this way.

- she tells Dean he’s worthless, he can’t save Sam, and the people he loves would be better off without him. Which means his worst beliefs about himself (as far as Sam knows) are that he isn’t good enough and that he’s actually bad for Sam. Why? Why would Sam know that Dean fears he would be better off without him? He’s protected and cared for Sam his whole life, both Sam and John have explicitly told him that they’re grateful, and even Dean can’t blame himself for the way he and Sam grew up. It’s possible this is about the fact that Sam is in danger hunting with Dean, but he would’ve been in danger in law school too. It fits better with Dean’s guilt over his feelings for Sam and his knowledge that Sam is in love with him. Sam knows that Dean blames himself.

-Dean refuses to hurt Sam when Meg!Sam is punching him, and she punches him four or five times. Then when Sam is back unpossessed, Dean punches him in the face. When it was about saving Sam Dean refused to hurt him, but now that Sam is safe it’s like his anger at Sam comes pouring out. He needed some form of resolution for the fact that his little brother scared the shit out of him for a week straight going missing, murdered someone and didn’t even help clean up the crime scene, pistol whipped him, shot him in the shoulder, punched him, named his worst fears, threatened to bite his own tongue off, and pressed his finger into his wound and laughed. Obviously Sam did none of those things and it was all Meg, but I think it’s completely understandable that Dean reacted this way after not only keeping his shit together for Sam all that time but also actively protecting him. It’s a reasonable trauma response for him to have fought back. I’m not saying it’s ethical or anything just that it’s exactly what Dean would do and it gives his episode arc some catharsis.

-for his part, Sam isn’t upset with Dean for punching him. He never is. As evidenced by Sam’s little smirk when Dean makes joke about Bobby’s charms for keeping the demon from “getting back up in there.”

-Dean checks in with Sam in the sweetest way, gently prompting him to answer if he’s okay. Sam explains that what’s troubling him isn’t the memory of his own hands killing a man, it’s the knowledge that even then Dean wouldn’t kill him. They both know for sure now.

-Dean teases Sam about having a girl inside him and Sam grins. It’s just one of many references to Sam having someone inside him and otherwise sexually being referred to as the girl.

-Dean’s “if it’s the last thing I do I’m gonna save you” hits different when you’re on tumblr and you know the show ends 13 seasons later with Dean dying and Sam living out some kind of a life.

[xoxoavenger]

I Only Need Ten

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, BestFriend!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: when Eddie decided to go no contact with Y/N after a drunk night, his worst nightmares come to life at a party (based on scene from Daisy Jones and the Six)

word count: 2896

warnings: drug use (cocaine), over dose, terrible boyfriend (the oc not eddie), a small mention of murder and killing (deserved tho), near death experience

masterlist

"I think you're delusional." Steve says as him and Y/N walked up to the party, Robin practically running ahead to get there quicker. It was her first time at a party that was barred from high schoolers, meaning it would probably have hard drugs. Parties weren't usually her scene, but she was ready tonight. Y/N had been hyping it up for ages, begging Robin for years to go - since the younger got out of high school.

"Do you ever let anything go?" Y/N asked, already slurring her words. Steve rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bottle from her hands, one of his own wrapping around her arm when she stumbled a bit. "God, I mean, I think if Eddie liked me he would have said something." Of course they were arguing about Y/N's new boyfriend, her rebound from Eddie after they drunkenly made out and passed out with each other's hands halfway down their pants. Eddie made it very clear he wasn't interested after he slipped out before she woke up and avoided her like the plague, not answering any of her calls and leaving her to talk to Wayne awkwardly.

"Maybe he's afraid." Steve said, wincing as he took a long swig of the hard liquor she had procured; he already felt the hangover. Unfortunately the massive amounts of partying he had done in high school did not help as he got older. Just smelling alcohol aged him ten years.

"Please," Y/N snorted, walking through the people that were in the lawn, music blaring even outside. On the patio table someone was cutting cocaine, and before Steve could stop her she was breathing it in and throwing her head back in a laugh.

"Alright," Steve grabbed her and pulled her into the house, hoping she would only do one line. When Y/N was heart broken, she tended to go a little overboard. Her boyfriend wasn't very good at stopping her, and Steve didn't trust him.

"Steve, come on! Don't act like you're such aaaa," She trailed off, not knowing what to say. "I don't have a good comeback." She laughed loudly, and Steve took another swig of the drink. This was gonna be a long night.

~

"You are such an idiot." Dustin magically appeared at Eddie's side, holding a beer in hand like he did this every night. The two were leaning against a counter in the kitchen, where you could see everyone going in and out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Eddie yanked the beer away, spilling half of it as Dustin protested, "C'mon, man! I'm seventeen now!"

"And what if Steve sees you?" Eddie knew it was a trump card, since last month Steve had been forced to pick up the kids from a party after it was busted and Will threw up in the roses out front. He hadn't said anything that night, picking them up and taking them to his house, calling Mike's mom to tell her they were all safe and had crashed at his place after meeting up with Eddie. He held El's hair back when she threw up, multiple times, and got them orange juice in the morning while Dustin lived in the bathroom. And then lectured them for an hour and told them that while he would always pick them up when they needed, he was going to tell their parents and let them deal with that next time.

"Steve's gonna be here?" Dustin looked around, but he didn't see Steve. Eddie wasn't even sure how Dustin got into this party; he has seen high schoolers get kicked out at least four times in the last fifteen minutes of him standing in the kitchen and looking for Y/N.

"Yeah, I think he's coming with Robin and Y/N." Eddie tried not to seem weird when he said her name, but Dustin was a perceptive little shit.

"We all know you two have a thing going on." While they all knew that Y/N and Eddie did in fact have some tension, the teenagers were not aware of exactly what had transpired a couple weeks prior.

"You don't know shit." Eddie chugged Dustin's beer, grabbing his arm as he tried to leave before he could go get a new one.

"I know plenty of shit." Dustin rolled his eyes, shrugging Eddie off and walking away, definitely going to grab another beer. Seems Steve's threats didn't work very well.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" Eddie shouted, leaning against the counter and drinking out of his own cup filled with something a little bit harder.

He wanted to get wasted.

~

"Where's Blake?" Y/N slurred as she looked around. Her eye caught more coke on a corner counter, and when she lit up Steve felt himself tense.

"Have a cig," Steve pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, hoping it would distract Y/N enough that she would temporarily forget about the cocaine that she definitely did not need. He was just about to light it for her when he saw Dustin walk by with a beer in his hand.

That little punk.

"Dustin!" Steve yelled, mind filling with rage at the fact that Dustin had not learned at all from him. "Hey, come here, you little shit!" Steve was off, looking over heads to track Dustin as he snaked through the crowd.

Y/N immediately forgot about the unlit cigarette as soon as Steve was gone.

"Babe!" Blake threw an arm around Y/N as she came up from snorting a line, not even giving her time to breathe before putting a cold hand to her face and kissing her breathless.

Eddie watched the whole thing, watched as Blake threw back his drink and took a hit in one breath, watched the couple laugh and kiss messily. He couldn't take it, seeing her with him. He knew he had fucked up, that knowing her rejection would have been better than this.

He walked away, going to help Steve corral the other little shits that had snuck into the party before they got into serious trouble.

~

Y/N wasn't sure what she was laughing at. All she really knew was Blake had just pushed her off the bed they were jumping on, but her head was fuzzy and her body was heavy, so maybe he was doing her a favor. She liked laying on the floor, breathing deeply.

"Do you ever stop laughing!" Blake yelled at her, making her head spin even more. Suddenly, she felt less of the fun fuzzy feeling and more unclear and in the dark. What was going on?

She could barely breathe, she didn't feel in control of her own body. She could feel her brain shutting down as she closed her eyes. The panic set in when she was unable to open them more than slits, but it was quickly replaced by nothingness.

Across the party, El was screaming.

She was yelling incoherently at Eddie, who felt way too sober for everything. Max and Will and Mike were at her sides, trying to get her to calm down, but she was hitting the older man, grabbing his jacket and pointing up the stairs. He almost put her over his shoulder to walk out, thinking she was clearly wasted, when he heard something he knew was actually English.

"It's Y/N!" That got Eddie moving, running to the last bedroom he had seen Y/N go into. He had kept an eye on her, had watched her get progressively more unhinged and high, but he thought Blake had it. He is her boyfriend after all, and the last thing Eddie wanted to do was intrude.

How could he have been so stupid?

Steve marched behind him, the kids bee-lining to follow. Once Eddie got to the door and found it locked, he pounded on it so hard it rattled the walls.

"Blake? You motherfucker, you better get out of there before I break this goddamn door down!" Eddie's voice was deep and loud, making the kids shiver. They had never heard him sound like this. Blake unlocked the door to stick his head out.

"Go the fuck away, freak." Blake said, but he seemed out of breath and his voice was too high.

"Where's Y/N?" Eddie demanded, trying to push through the door.

"She's fine. Everything's fine. Just go." He rushed out, still trying to shut the door on Eddie. "Go, please." He begged, setting off warning bells all throughout Eddie's head.

"Open the door." Eddie seethed, tilting his head in anger.

"No," Blake started, shaking his head and pushing.

"Open the fucking door." Eddie pounded once more against the half open door, red hot rage engulfing him as he could think of nothing else but Y/N. The way Blake had said that she was fine so quickly, wanting him to leave, it didn't sit right with Eddie.

"She's not your's, man! You had a chance," Before he could finish his sentence Steve and Lucas were helping Eddie open the door; it was overkill, and Blake lost the fight quickly.

"Y/N?" He called looking around. It didn't take long to find her on the ground, unmoving. She looked uncomfortable laying there, not right.

Eddie's heart dropped so far it cracked the carpet.

"Oh my fuck," He ran to her, hands cupping her face. "Y/N? Y/N." He repeated her name over and over again as he lightly slapped her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she didn't he pressed his head to her chest, but he felt no movement.

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered as Eddie let out a quiet sob, the younger man stepping back slightly as he took in the scene.

"Steve!" Eddie called, not daring to look away from Y/N. "She's not breathing, man!" He could barely get the words out, his throat constricting in time with his wildly beating heart.

"No, no," Max's hands went to her mouth, feeling Lucas behind her. She turned into him and he cradled her head to his shoulder, making sure she wouldn't see the scene in front of them.

"Y/N? All right, all right, all right." He was convincing himself that she was fine, that any second now she was gonna gasp for air and laugh and he would kiss her senseless. He had been stupid to not talk to her, to not hear her out. Now, as he maneuvered her into his arms, he felt sick at the thought that he had lost time with her. "It's okay, I'm here, Y/N." He pulled her around and made sure her head was tilted up, not realizing how much he was shaking. He tried to calm himself by rocking back and forth.

"Dustin, go find a phone, call the cops, don't give any names. If we can't get her awake, they'll help." Steve ordered, taking charge of everyone before they could continue freaking out. "Will, go with him. El and Mike, go find Nancy. Tell her Y/N overdosed, that she's nonresponsive. The rest of you, tell Nancy to give you her keys and go to her car. Keep your heads down, we don't have time to bail any of you out of jail." The kids moved quickly, leaving him, Blake, Y/N and Eddie in the room.

"Y/N? Y/N." He was still repeating her name, smacking her lightly with the arm wrapped around her head, knowing he would do anything to see her chest move again, hear her heart beat.

"It's gonna be okay," Steve said, but Eddie wasn't listening.

"C'mon." Eddie begged, only looking up when Steve yelled out at someone. He saw Blake moving to the door, halfway out of it. "What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie yelled, head melting at the fact that here he was, holding Blake's girlfriend as she died while Blake was leaving.

"I'm sorry, I, I can't be here, so, um, I'll, I'm sorry," And with that stuttering mess Blake ran out the door, leaving Steve and Eddie alone with Y/N. The two didn't have time to be angry at Blake, too focused on Y/N.

"Steve?" Someone called from the hallway.

"In here!" Steve yelled back, and Eddie was relieved to see it was Nancy holding a white cloth.

"Put this here," Nancy slid to her knees in front of Y/N and Eddie, Robin and Jonathan trailing behind her with horror-stricken looks. Nancy pressed the cloth, which smelled strongly of alcohol, onto Y/N's nose as Eddie held her head up, tears beginning to run down his face.

"All right, stay with me. Stay with me." He begged, not letting himself think about what would happen if this didn't work. "Wake up. Wake up." He gripped her tighter, tears falling off his face and onto hers.

"Hold on," Nancy muttered, because this wasn't working. Y/N still lay unmoving in Eddie's arms.

"Please. Please, please, please, please." He had never begged for something this hard in his life, had never wanted so badly to be able to go back in time and change everything. He felt the guilt of this. He knew it was his fault. If he hadn't pushed her away, too afraid to face his fears, he would have been with her tonight. "Please don't, please don't." Someone was rubbing his back, telling him to breathe, but all he could think was that he wasn't the one that needed help. He felt the air draw out of him, the room closing in as more time passed without Y/N opening her eyes.

Eddie pulled her as close to his chest as possible, pressing kisses to her forehead in between muttered prayers and pleas for her to just stay with him, to breathe and open her eyes.

"Please," He muttered once more, raising his head to the ceiling and calling on anyone who was listening to help him. When he looked down again, Y/N's eyes were open - hooded and dilated, but she was responsive.

"It's you." She whispered, looking at him for a moment longer as he put his hand to her cheek before she closed her eyes once more, this time still breathing.

"The cops are here!" Robin called from the window, and everyone started moving. Steve and Eddie picked Y/N up, who's eyes are closing an opening at the rate of a turtle's.

"C'mon, we gotta go," Steve encourages, and Eddie has never been so grateful for someone who knew what to do. Usually, he likes to be in charge, likes to take control of situations, but right now he can't think. He's straining his ears as if he could hear her heartbeat somehow.

"She's not conscious." Eddie tells Steve, who silently leans down to help Y/N up. They had her arms over their shoulders, her feet dragging on the floor as the two boys carry her out.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Steve mutters as they get to Nancy's car, people running around and creating the perfect cover.

"I'm getting to him first." Eddie isn't seeing red yet, because he has to get Y/N to safety, but he knows as soon as she's okay he's going to go insane.

It takes three seconds for Y/N to be placed into the care of Robin, who looks up and expects Eddie and Steve to climb in.

"Make sure she's okay." Eddie says. He's already imagining every way he's going to hurt Blake.

"What?" Robin barely says before Steve is slamming the door shut and walking back into the house.

The men are lit by red and blue police lights as they make their way back into the house.

"Hey!" A hand on Eddie's shoulder stops him, which should top them off that they know this person because they went for Eddie's shoulder knowing Steve would wait. Eddie would not have had Steve been the one who was stopped. "What the hell are you two doing?" Hopper is standing there when they turn, arms crossed.

"I have to go kill someone." Eddie says, as if he isn't talking to the chief of police.

"Can I ask why?" Hopper doesn't seem very concerned, but he's sure Eddie is telling the truth by how angry he looks.

"You don't wanna know, Hop." Steve starts, knowing that Y/N won't get in trouble from him but not sure he wants to expose her.

"Are the kids okay?" Hopper asks, concerned.

"We got them out." Steve can tell Eddie is itching to break some bones, and he's not sure how happy Hopper would be about that.

"What happened to Y/N?" Hopper knows that the only reason Steve and Eddie would be marching into a party together is her.

"Hop," Steve starts, knowing that if they tell Hopper he'll probably tell them to leave so he can arrest the jackass. He needs to pummel Blake's face himself. He needs to let Eddie almost kill him and pull him back before any murdering actually occurs.

"She ODed and he pushed her off the bed before he left her not breathing on the ground." Eddie is about to turn around when Hopper grabs his arm. "You're gonna have to arrest me to keep me off of him, and if you're gonna do it you better do it now."

"Listen to me," Hopper says quietly, looking around to make sure the other officers are all doing something else. "I will keep them away from you. Whatever happens in the next fifteen minutes, I don't know about it. When I find him, it better look like a fight gone wrong and not a homicide. Got it?" His voice scared Steve, but invigorated Eddie.

"I only need ten." 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @xxhellfiregirlxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren

[highlordofkrypton]

the bridges we mend, a tamlin x beron x elain fanfiction

You can read on AO3 or below the cut.

@praetorqueenreyna, this is your fault. Now, I'm committed.

SUMMARY: An alternate universe fic that takes place after Tamlin's family is murdered by another High Lord. Beron Vanserra has always kept an eye out for Tamlin; he has always been useful and entertaining. While he helps to rebuild the Spring Court, they welcome an unwelcome refugee from the human realm: Elain Archeron.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There will be multiple chapters. There will be multiple variations of smut. It is a bit #yolo compared to my usual works. ENJOY!!

The rain hisses against his skin, wafts of smoke drifting into the air as it evaporates. Each step sears into the mud, fuels his rage, and it brings him closer to the culprit.

Idiot princeling. Stubborn beast, he thinks to himself.

His aura of anger grows until he is nothing than a storm of fire and steam.

No sentry bars his way. No magic repels him.

Beron whisps past the disfigured golden gates of the grand manor. It seems to droop under the weight of the rain—or is it under the weight of expectation? Of agony? With wave of his hand, he repairs it. His fire reshapes the metal and teaches it to burn bright, even in this darkness.

The front door is splintered; he finds problem after problem, but what he is looking for is not a problem. What is he looking for is—

A bottle clatter into the hall, its glass alerting him with its sharp sound. Behind it, a small creature pauses its efforts of rolling it away. It gives Beron a wide and slow blink before putting its hand-like paws on the bottle and going about its merry way.

"You," he orders the animal, as if he could communicate with a lesser creature. That was never his gift. "Halt."

The creature looks back over its shoulder and redoubles its efforts to escape.

It cannot—will not—get away with thievery in his presence. He has told the Spring son time and time againt that he is too soft to run this court. Even the wild things have free reign in his home.

Unacceptable.

Beron winnows towards the damned thing, cutting off its path into another room down the hall. It chirps, clutching onto the bottle and vanishes in a puff of pink smoke only to reappear further away. It gives the High Lord of the Autumn Court chase, all the way to its destination.

Blood stains the floor, and the bodies have been covered by a crimson-soaked bedsheet and half of the curtains. The new High Lord sits in the centre of the room, cradling a cold body to his chest. The tiny furry criminal hops over to Tamlin and offers him the bottle of water, but he does not take it.

Beron's heart catches in his chest. Mother, he loathes the discomfort of caring. He feels the bile of emotion roil in the pit of his belly, something more that allyship and a quick fuck. There is no time to address it. Another problem for another day.

"Fuck," Beron sighs, scrubbing his face and his auburn beard. "I told you to come to me."

He moves calmly across the room, kneeling before Tamlin and his lost ones. His touch is gentle, a rare offering, as he caresses Tamlin's cheek. This is what happens when power is thrust into the hands of someone too young and who does not want it.

I could have protected you, he yearns to say.

I have protected you, he nearly reprimands.

"I'll fix this. All of it."

***

The night keeps her secrets.

The rain hollows out her betrayal and masks the sounds of her feet pitter-pattering out the gates of her prison. A home where she is kept guarded, isolated and protected for her own good. Elain the kind. Elain the pure.

She is so unlike her sisters, they say.

So unlike Feyre, the adventurer who weaves fairytales out of nothing. So unlike Nesta, whose grace is as sharp as her mind. If one sister is brave, and the other is elegantly bold, then where does she fit? Where does she belong, the sister who is cursed to live in the middle?

Elain has been what her father needed, and what her sisters needed, never jostling any of them. Her part was to help where she could, and bottle her feelings deep inside where it was convenient. Her part was to marry into a household that would have her do nothing and be nothing for her safety.

The world is dangerous out there, they swore.

Stay within our eyesight, or you'll get hurt, they promised.

She doesn't know what to believe anymore, but one thing she knows is that she must see the world for herself. She dreams of a great odyssey, and even if there is pain along the way, she hopes that she will return—if she returns at all—with her heart full of wonder.

Elain clutches her dark cloak tightly and disappears into the forest. Broken branches and upturned rocks bite at her feet; her slippers are too thin, not made for a wanderer, but she pushes on. The ache is freeing and it reminds her that she has felt pain—

She has lost her mother, her father, her comfort, her peace—

She has lost enough, and yet she is here.

Once she gets far enough from the village that never quite felt like home, Elain pulls her hood back. The rain slips through the dark canopy of trees, dripping onto the curls of her hair and she laughs. It is a terrible idea to wander through the wilderness at night, but there is nothing more Elain wants than to do something terrible.

There is only one way to go: forward.

***

Beron leans against the side of the manor, huddled under one of the balconies to hide from the rain.

He has discarded his death-touched coat for one of Tamlin's. The shoulders droop; the younger Faerie had always been that much larger than him, much to his pleasure. The weight of his clothes, and its scent, is comforting no matter how much he loathes to admit it.

A cigarette burns between his fingers, also stolen from the Spring Lord. Its smoke fills his lungs with an easy focus; it helps him manage the anger until he can find a better way to expel the fury from his veins. He raises it to his lips, inhaling deeply, then releasing dark green wisps through his nose. It should burn, probably, but he is made of fire and there is not much that hurts him.

Lightning fractures the sky. No. Magic fractures the sky, its jagged slither diving towards where the Wall—the Wall separates the human and Faerie realms.

"Fuck," he laments, tossing the butt to the ground for it to return whence it came. He extinguishes it with a flick of his wrist.

Problem after problem. This is his own damned fault for caring.

[spinji]

Do you have any idea why Nana continued to dehumanize Shigaraki after learning that her murderer groomed him to be evil?

I think what a lot of people don't get with the whole "you might have to kill Shigaraki" thing is that Nana (and Torino by extension) aren't removing his autonomy when they say that.

At a certain point, it doesn't matter who's fault it is for turning someone into a villian. The entire purpose of Deku's rematch with Muscular is to make it clear that some people aren't going to stop destroying things and hurting people by talking about their abusive dad or their dead mom or whatever tragic circumstances led them here.

Tomura has also reached a similar point, refusing to compromise on his goal to destroy the causes of his suffering. That includes both All for One and the society that left him to rot. AFO meticulously planned a lot of Tenko’s misfortune but he didn't manipulate the strangers that passed him on the street. He didn't create that feeling of abandonment, only pointed it in the wrong direction. Tomura not making this choice for himself because he was groomed genuinely doesn't matter anymore because these are his choices now. He's shown multiple times to understand that AFO is using him against All Might and for his own ends, but he doesn't try to get away and turn to the heroes; he tries to get away so he can be a villian on his own terms.

It's easy to forget, since he's the protagonist, but Izuku's optimism about saving the crying boy at the core of who Tomura is, is a massive outlier and his leaps in logic aren't always solid. Nana is very callous when she talks about it, my personal guess is it's because she's still not fully willing to face her sense of guilt that her attempt to save her son from AFO led to the creation and abuse of Tomura. But she is still correct, regardless of what pain lingers inside Tomura, it is too late to help him.

Even when Izuku reaches his hand to Tenko when he is at his absolute most vulnerable, he maintains his loyalty to the league. He's been cast from society for so long that there's nothing that can convince him to stop. He would rather die destorying than live in a world he couldn't change.

In fact most of the major deaths in the league maintain this theme. Twice would rather die fighting than let his friends get screwed over by his own shortcomings again. Toga would rather die a free girl that lived as she pleased than fall in line with society. The heroes didn't choose to kill any of them from the outset, they could have gone quietly at any time to save their own skin, but their cause was more important.

This is what Nana means when she maintains that Shigaraki dying is a possiblity that needs to stay on the table, because he won't allow anything that isn't victory or death. It's tragic but I think it helps convey the message that the ending wants to, that change in how we treat the strange and disparaged doesn't just need to happen, but it needs to happen sooner. You can't just wait until a villian tries to blow up the country to try and help them, you need to give that kindness to everyone before those villians can even exist.

Sorry this got off topic because I really hate how people simplify the ending as bad writing when to me it seems really obvious that Horikoshi was going for a bittersweet ending with the league. They did destroy society but didn't live long enough to see what it rebuit into because even trust in one person trying to save them isn't enough when you're this far gone.

Either way, Horikoshi's writing style leads to a lot of necessary intuiting about the characters to actually understand the motivations for how they act. I think Nana ends up being a particularly rough victim of this because her stoicism and blunt attitude is very obviously supposed to be a front.

She opened herself up to others and All for One killed her loved ones, so she guards her heart the best she can to avoid showing more weaknesses. She does feel like a failure to her legacy; she never fully believes she made the right choices regarding Kotaro or Tomura. But if she cracks then not only is she done but AFO will make it his duty to twist the knife and hurt the people she cried for too.

She's a contrast to Izuku serving as a cautionary what-if scenario if Izuku's big open heart just makes more people targets by association (which it does!). She's not entirely right when she calls Tomura a monster but she isn't being entirely honest with herself either.

[intothespiderverseheadthoughts]

Miguel: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Peter B: I’ve been zoned out for the past 2 and a half hours.

Miles: I got distracted halfway through.

Hobie and Bonnie in unison: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

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Miles: I'm not even sure if Bonnie likes us.

Pavitr: What do you mean? Bonnie would throw herself in front of a moving car for us!

Gwen: No. Bonnie would throw herself in front of a moving car for FUN.

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Jess: Hey Bonnie?

Bonni: Yes, Ma’am?

Jess: I know this may come as a shock to you, but you know how you’re unhappy everywhere you go?

Bonnie: …yes?

Miguel, interjecting: We’ve both discovered It’s because you are there. And we know this, because I am experiencing this effect. We are now all unhappy together. But I know how you can fix it.

Bonnie: …

Miguel: You can leave. And then we will be happy again.

Bonnie: …Your collective misery makes me happy. I’m inclined to stay.

Jess: Dammit.

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Peni: jellyfish have been living for 600000 years without brains.

Noir: A ray of hope for Hamm.

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Bonnie: If we can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think our bodies will shut down. 

Hobie: She’s right, it’s a legit medical condition, we HAVE to do it!

Jess: NO THE FUCK YOU DON’T-

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Miguel after meeting Bonnie for the first time: Do you ever just look at someone and get annoyed?

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Earth 910 Harry (circa Junior Year of HS): Listen, I know Bonnie is unhinged, responsible for multiple atrocities, and a danger to herself and others. But have you ever considered that she is tiny, sad, and I love her?

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Jess: What do you call sabotage and vandalism?

Hobie: A hobby.

Jess:

Pavitr: ... that we do not engage in.

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Hamm about Miguel: Have you ever looked at an authority figure in your life and thought, "Wow, I respect a well-grilled hot dog more than I respect you?"

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Bonnie: Hey, uh, I just want you guys to know that, out of everyone I’ve ever met, I hate you all the least.

Miles: We love you too Orbweaver!

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

Peter B to Miguel and Jess: You think kindness doesn't exist you fucking pathetic nihilists? How about you both look into the big beautiful eyes of my daughter? What do you think now? Assholes!

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Miles: You know, I really think we should try a non-violent approach to solve this

Prowler! Miles: I agree. Except replace “non” with “extremely,” and include the phrase “blood murder explosion extraordinaire.”

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Bonnie: These children fill my heart with some sort of new emotion I've never felt before. They make me feel warm and want to smile!

Peter B: Bonnie, I think that's happiness.

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Gwen: Your task is to piss off an entire room of people. How do you do it? 

Hobie: Show up, usually.

[accirax]

Disventure Camp All Stars Power Ranking (Round 19)

The finale begins!

In case you haven't seen my previous power rankings, the Power Ranking Format is essentially a way of ranking how well each player is doing in the game. So, in essence, this is a long form way of predicting who I think will be eliminated from the competition in the next episode. There will be spoilers for last week's episode (obviously) and its power ranking, so make sure to read that first if you don't want to be spoiled on how I ranked our last boot. If you want more clarification on the rules, that first post will help you out as well. Furthermore, I'm going to be spoiling the preview for next episode, so if you want to go in TOTALLY blind, save this for later. Let's go!

Recap - The Motel Episode

Current Score: 76 acquired/113 total

(Points versus @venus-is-thinking: 27 acquired/38 total)

Bench Points: 8/10 (so far)

(Note: Scoring for Fiore, James, and Yul was taken from the Motel episode. Scoring for Tom, Aiden, Lake, Connor, and Miriam are taken from the preview.)

Well, that was... not what I expected! I mean, all of the character dynamics and fun banter I mostly expected-- other than that one last shot at some Yul depth-- but the setup for the three finale helpers being chosen by a first-dibs challenge was not. And, even if I knew that that was going to happen, I probably wouldn't have guessed that Fiore, James, and Yul would be chosen as the helpers to Ally, Jake, and Riya. I look forward to seeing those unexpected pairings gain more focus in the finale.

Yeah, I think that pretty much everything else I had to say, I covered in my initial thoughts. There's less to talk about here when no one was actually eliminated. So, let's look at the trailer!

Trailer Analysis

Looks like Emily will literally have to drag Trevor into being complicit kicking and screaming. Surely Derek and Trevor won't have a misunderstanding this episode that is resolved romantically in the last episode, right?

I'm guessing that Ally and Jake are practicing here? Notably, it appears that Jake wins the practice race. I'm sure that won't get in Ally's head.

Ooh, are they doing the Survivor-style finalists' breakfast this season?

Is this one of their letters from home? Why is Jake smiling while reading it? Out of the two of them, I would guess it's probably Riya's letter, but it could also be a surprise Connor's letter or something.

We're back in the mines from Season 1! Some bonus trauma for Jake, as that challenge occurred in the episode where Ellie berated him before he got eliminated.

I guess maybe they have to mine/dig for clues?

Despite the two seemingly getting along while eating breakfast, Ally will still sabotage Jake's team via giving James a rock to the face. Maybe that'll make James think twice about emotionally supporting Ally. (/j)

So, Emily's act of sabotage (for this episode at least) is releasing the scorpions onto the campers in the midst of an otherwise peaceful challenge. Hooray for murdering people...?

First of all, Jake needs to stop engaging in long jumps where he barely makes it to the other side. Secondly, this is probably the same gap that we see Riya putting a bridge over multiple times in the trailer, which may imply that Jake and James reach this area before Riya and Yul.

Of course, everyone is going to wind up in the same tunnel at the same point in time anyways.

This is interesting because, in the last shot, Riya was in the front of the pack. But now, she's throwing a rock at Ally, who's ahead of her. I wonder which scene happens first.

"C'mon, everyone! Let's do the Jake cheer we've been practicing!" "One, two, three, four! Gooooooo--" "And, that's enough of that! Here come our finalists!"

James looking so dead inside while doing the cheer has me dead. Based on this, I'm guessing that Ally will have Hunter, Tess, Grett, Gabby, and Ellie, as well as picking up Alec, who's there to support Fiore. That would leave Jake and Ally with even benches, and Riya with no one other than a mandatory Yul. I feel really bad for Ally, though, given that Jake picked up both Ashley and Connor. It makes sense why both of them would pick Jake (they befriended him first), but I hope she doesn't take it too hard.

Power Ranking

I don't even think anyone is getting voted out this episode, so I'll keep this formality relatively quick.

#1: Jake

Jake is still my winner pick, as he has been for a while, and nothing other than his elimination is going to change that. Going up against Ally + Fiore and Riya + Yul is a stellar combo for Jake, because no way ONC wants Fiore or Yul to actually get their hands on any money. The only mildly confusing thing is that James would wind up winning money from the show again (despite being the first boot, even), but I have half a mind to believe that he'll just donate that money to Ally anyways.

I think that James is here to be an audience insert. Having barely participated in the game at all, James is still of the belief that Jake is exactly the same as he was at the end of Season 1, no matter what Aiden tries to tell him. By being someone who had no faith in Jake who learns over the course of the finale that Jake truly did become a more thoughtful and responsible guy, ONC will use a character that the audience loves to prove why they too should root for Jake's victory. They want to prove to the nonbelievers that Jake has improved, through him mending his relationship with his first DCAS burn. Or at least, that's how I see it, as a Jake winner truther since the beginning of the merge.

#2: Ally

While an Ally/Riya finale feels basically impossible to me, a Jake/Riya finale is plausible. Offputting, but plausible.

Ally has been in the strange position of being rootable but unlikeable for most of the game. I believe that she could turn it around and win, if ONC is going for a plot twist ending, or that she could be taken out now as the lesser of two evils to let the real baddie shine in the finale. Most likely, though, I believe she'll take second, learning some important life lessons and maybe getting some money from James.

Fiore is probably here to be the devil on Ally's shoulder. She'll suggest something cruel and unusual, and it'll be up to Ally to decide whether she can resist those urges, or whether her fate will fall to villainy. Fiore also may be here as someone who can comment on her relationship with Hunter. She saw the beginning where they were fighting, but she's also been at the Loser's Motel for long enough that she probably knows how Hunter feels about her now. If she's feeling nice, she could use that as motivation.

Let's go team Fiore!!!

#3: Riya

If someone is eliminated in this episode, it'll be confusing in and out of universe if it isn't Riya. She has Yul as a partner and a second disadvantage, and no one should want to work with or root for her. She's also obviously not going to win the season, so if the writers want to keep up suspense for who does, they should eliminate her and leave the finale to Jake and Ally. Really, the only reasons why I don't think she would be eliminated this time are because 1) it's so obvious and 2) I don't think anyone will actually be eliminated this episode.

I think that Yul is mostly here for the comedy of it all, and so that the writers didn't have to choose who he would genuinely choose to root for otherwise. There is also some juicy potential for something I've mentioned before-- for both of them to reflect on their shared tendency to sabotage themselves by always choosing material success over building relationships or choosing to be kind. If we're lucky, we'll get some reflection on that, but I'll be happy with just a Riya/Yul cringe comp.

Alright, I've probably hit my government-mandated word count now that I've yapped about the helper choices a bit. Excited for the finale! Let's end this season on a high note!

[darkbluekies]

Jerry asks #2

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: nsfw mentions, drugs, murder

Rahhh i love ur OC Jerry smmm, i wanna squish her like a stress ball and inhale her into my nose 😔😔Im conclusion, i can't wait to see more of Jerry and your writing in general!!! &lt;;33

youwannadowhatnow???? (thank you so much ily)

Bro i am SO in lesbians with jerry its not even funny

Very good >:)

how would Jerry react to reader killing someone out of self defense?(p.s. im lowkey in love with Jerry)

She will be proud over you. All that self defense she taught you actually worked. She's so pleased to know that you can take care of yourself when she's away. She'll comfort you, knowing that this most likely will take a toll on your brain.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay I promise, you did nothing wrong! You did so well. You could even have been harsher if you ask me, but you're so nice, aren't you? The nicest little baby? Come here."

As soon as Jerry puts a colouring book in front of me bam my attention is gone I am drawing I am gone I am happy

Perfect, just like she wants :>

"Giving you a coloring book to keep you occupied" Jerre what the actual f... do you think i'm a child ?! *is absolutely doing the coloring with an offended look*

Lmao coloring books really are fun, i love them so much

She'll come over every ten minutes to check up on you and see how far you've come.

"No need to glare at me when you're obviously having fun, you child." She peeks at the drawing. "That looks good, baby doll. If you finish the entire page before I'm done here I might let you sleep on my arm tonight."

Does Jerry get softer over time? She’s stand offish but we get those moments of softness, when she settles down with her darling and they both trust each other will she be soft or still only fleeting moments?

She doesn't get softer in theory, but you learn how to take her behavior and analyze it. Her cockiness is a part of her personality. it's not disappearing anytime soon. However, if you match her energy she will be much more comfortable. You might even be on the same level with her instead of being her property.

Example:

"I ought to give that son of a bitch a real pounding", Jerry mutters with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You should wipe the floor with his hair", you reply. "Use it like a real good mop."

She scoffs out a laugh. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"If you don't, I will."

You're about to leave, but she grabs your shoulder, forcing you back.

"Not a fucking chance, Y/N", she says. "He would grab your hair and swing you over his head like a damn propeller. I'm not letting him hurt you, you're too important to me. You can help me, but you're not doing anything by yourself, do you understand that?"

"In that case he'll hurt you too."

"I'll be fine." She taps your nods at the man. "If you take his glass, I'll put in the sleeping pills. Let's go, baby. I'm right behind you."

on my hands and knees begging for more information on jerry’s mommy kink

Well ... haha ... Jerry loves to be in control and know that she's the leader of the relationship. Having you call her that makes her feel important to you. Plus it feeds her gigantic ego.

She's the type to want you to call her that among others, just so people know. It makes her feel even cockier.

Of course she mocks you about it when you become shy about it, why wouldn't she do that? The more embarrassed you are, the happier she gets.

BLUE OMG I LOVE JERRY SO MUCH SHES LITERALLY RHE STANDART ‼️‼️

AGREED<33333

jerry stole my heart<3 -💤anon

She will steal more than that, she will steal your entire life