#jacob is a love sick fool

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 9

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Masterlist

"And that's how you come back from a suspension! Two goals and two assists for June Maxwell!" Andrew said.

"And look at that smile on her face! She has definitely missed it” Jacob added.

"That's the face of someone who loves football" Ben said, trying very hard not to smile. She was back. The June Maxwell they all enjoyed watching, was back. "Though they should give her the fifth goal and make it a hat-trick."

"It was an own goal, Chilly."

"I know, but…"

"I barely recognise you, Chilwell. You are saying nice things about Maxwell. Again!" Andrew laughed. "Anything you would like to share with us?"

"It's just that after seeing what happened in her last game, I realized we should spread more positivity instead of negativity. I still think she is overrated and has a lot of work to do to be as good as you all say she is…"

"That's more you" Jacob chuckled.

"But there has been so much hate everywhere and especially online, that I felt I was adding fuel to the fire and that wasn't sitting well with me. Football players have to deal with a lot of pressure already, and sometimes we forget that they are human beings with real feelings just like anyone else."

"They all are, Chilly. They all are. Well said.”

"So yeah… I may start to go a bit softer on her. But just a teeny-tiny bit" he laughed. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"That was the last interview, June. You can go shower."

"Thank you" she smiled, starting to walk towards the changing room.

"Maxwell! Wait!"

"Chilwell?" she said, turning aroud. "What are you doing down here?"

"I wanted to speak with you."

"Again?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, again. I wanted to congratulate you for today's game, you played really well."

"April's Fools was last week, Chilwell."

"I'm not joking, June. I'm being honest."

"Sure" she chuckled.

"I am. I even got you something."

"Something like what? A present?"

"Kind of."

"Oh my God, another Kinder egg?" she laughed. "Is this your new way of bullying me? Giving me treats to make me feel as if I was a dog? Wait, is this your revenge because I called you dog?"

"It's just a nice gesture, June."

"You and being nice with me don't go together."

"They may start to" he shrugged. "Are you taking it or not?"

"Is it poisoned?"

"June…" Ben said, rolling his eyes.

"Ok, ok… I'm taking it. Thank you."

"You're welcome" he smiled. 

"Wait, no. I know what your new plan is. You want to send my fitness to hell by feeding me chocolate."

"Dear God, Maxwell" he sighed.

"I was just teasing you, Chilwell" she laughed. "Thank you. For this and for what you said on tv. Someone from the team told me."

"You're welcome. And I meant it. I'm not going to stop stating my facts…" he smirked. "But I won't be as mean or ruthless. I promise."

"Ok, good. I... I should probably go shower, I don't want to get cold and risk getting sick now that I'm back."

"You also happen to stink."

"What?"

"Just stating a fact" Ben shrugged, trying very hard to hide a smile.

"You… whatever. See you around, Chilwell. And thank you for the present."

"You're welcome, Maxwell. Again. See you around."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What is that?"

"Uh?"

"That toy" Lauren said, pointing at the little lion June was playing with.

"Oh, it's from a Kinder egg."

"You have Kinder eggs? Where? I want one!"

"I don't have any. Someone gave me this one."

"Someone? Who?"

"A fan. They wanted to cheer me up."

"Well, they've been very successful at it, because you haven't stopped smiling since we got into the bus."

"What?" June chuckled.

"You've been smiling like an idiot."

"Yeah, sure."

"You have. Was he cute?" Lauren asked.

"Who?"

"The fan who gave you the Kinder egg. Because you have the smile of someone who is thinking about her crush" she smirked.

"It was a kid, Lauren" June said, feeling her cheeks get warm.

"Did the kid come with a dad? Brother? Uncle?"

"It was just a kid, ok?"

"Ok, ok. No need to get mad. But I thought we were friends."

"And we are."

"Friends tell each other when they fancy someone."

"I don't fancy anyone" June chuckled.

"You… ok, fine" Lauren sighed. "You don't fancy anyone."

"I don't."

"And I said ok. Will you wake me up when we are getting close home? I want to take a nap."

"I will, don't worry."

"Thank you. Night night, June."

"Night night, Lauren" she smiled. 

"Friends tell each other when they fancy someone."

"I don't fancy anyone."

Because she didn't fancy anyone, did she? And especially not Ben Chilwell. 

Yes, him showing up today and giving her the chocolate egg had made her feel all fuzzy inside. It had been a very cute gesture, but it was just because it brought really good memories from her childhood, of her dad always buying her one after her Sunday games.

And the other day when he had told her that he cared about her, her heart had skipped a beat, yes. But just because it had caught her by surprise.

Though while she had been suspended and bored as hell, she had kept thinking about Ben telling her he would never date her, his words coming back and making her feel… weird. Kind of disappointed.

And then, of course, was the fact that her mind would randomly go back to their make out session on New Year's. To when she had kissed him. Twice. Thoroughly enjoying it. 

And then…

"Fuck."

"What?" Lauren asked, already half asleep while her head rested on June's shoulder.

"Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep."

But it was definitely something, because June had just realized that she did fancy someone. She fancied Ben freaking Chilwell.

[haee-elia]

1x03 - won’t get fooled again

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (2nd POV)

summary: in which a young woman visiting her brother in prison gets help from two agents, one being a very handsome Dr. Spencer Reid

warnings: mentions of prison, embezzlement, cancer, criminals, death, bombs, palliative care, terminal illness, estrangement (?), and no-contact with family

word count: 3132 (HOW???)

a/n: i’ve been writing so frequently that i actually am almost behind with watching the criminal minds episodes. as of writing for the third episode, i am halfway through ep 4 and really need to start watching to get ideas and all much more than i have been. im so happy to see all the love on the first two one shots and welcome engagement!

for those who might have missed the first two, here’s the masterlist for season one!

and here’s the premise of what i’m doing

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, exasperated, looking at the prison guard standing behind the window. He looked at you, no expression on his face and sighed.

“Sorry, miss,” He replied. You scoff on the inside, there was no tone that indicated this guy, Jacob from his name tag, was sympathetic at all. Especially after the 10 minute speech you just gave this man. You’re sure that he’s heard plenty of those working for a prison system, but it really was unfair in your opinion.

“I called ahead this entire month to make sure I could come today. I even called this morning and no one told me that visitors wouldn’t be allowed today.” You reiterated.

“Sorry, miss, there’s nothing I can do.” He echoed again.

You feel a presence walking up behind you, but you ignore for now and carry on, “Just, is there someone I can talk to? Can you give me a reason?”

“You need to come back next week, miss,”

You sigh and resist the urge to rub your fingers at your temple to prevent the quickly oncoming headache, “I can’t come back next week, I don’t live here. I just need five minutes tops with my brother. That’s it. I don’t care if there’s a thousand guards in the room or if we’re both wearing straight jackets, I just need to talk to my brother.”

“Whatever you need to tell your brother can wait.”

You close your eyes in frustration and run your fingers through your hair, “Our mother has cancer! It’s stage four and it’s terminal and I wanted to give him the privilege of telling him in person!”

“I can’t do anything, miss, now you need to leave.”

You can feel tears brimming, not in sadness, just in frustration. Your flight and trip that you had carefully planned over the past month in order to inform your brother about your mom had gone chaotic. First, your flight had been canceled and you instead took a red-eye flight in order to still make it here to tell your brother. In the past month in which you had planned to make your way down here, your mother’s condition had worsened and you desperately needed to get back to care for her. Plus, your job was expecting you back and you already took off the maximum amount of time you could, using sick days and vacation to still get paid.

“Excuse you,” you hear a voice behind you. You turn your head to see two men standing behind you, your cheeks redden a bit when you realize they just heard your entire sob story.

The first man was an older gentleman, slightly reminded you of your father with his greenish-blue shirt slouched on his body and his gray pants with deep pockets. His eyes noted some sort of twinkle in them, a youthful playfulness almost.

The second man was standing right off to the side of the first and he was more around your age. Standing tall with brown hair that curled around his ears wearing a neutral brown striped shirt tucked into his brown pants that were being held up by a belt. His eyes portrayed a more nervous demeanor, although he did meet your eyes when you glanced at him.

“Surely you can allow this young lady a few minutes with her brother,” The first man continued to say.

The prison guard seemed much more receptive to the older man than he was to you, figures. “I am sorry, but we have some police coming to question a very volatile prisoner.”

You swallow a scoff and force your eyes not to roll as the prison guard very easily these two men with an answer you were trying to get for the past 15 minutes.

Both men stand up a little straighter at the guard’s response and the second man, the one you noted with more nervousness which has now dissipated, reached into his pocket to retrieve something.

You very much didn’t expect a badge to be flashed to the prison guard. “We understand, sir, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with my colleague here, Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon. We’re both with the FBI here to question Mr. Bale, but nowhere did we mention that the prison had to be on lockdown for visitors while we conduct our short interview.”

Your eyes widen and sweep the ground as the both authoritative and informative voice of the taller agent rang out.

The prison guard man seemed bristled by the words, “Just prison protocol, sir. I’m sure you can understand, agents.”

You fake cough and correct the asshole guard, “Doctor!”

This earned small smiles and grins from the two FBI agents that are still behind you and the guard narrowed his eyes at you, a sneer forming on his face.

Before he, or anyone, could say anything, another man walked up behind the prison guard on the other side of the cement separator of the entrance into the prison. He smiles at the two agents and glances at you, not dropping his smile, but his eyes read a hint of confusion.

“SSA Gideon, Dr. Reid, it’s great to meet you both!” He says enthusiastically, “If you’ll follow me, I show you where we’ve set up Mr. Bale,”

Both men give the man in a suit a nod in acknowledgement, but the lanky man, Dr. Reid, holds up his hand first, “Would it be possible for this young woman to be able to pay a short visit to her brother, Warden?” He questions.

The warden of the prison turns to you, still with a happy-go-lucky smile, “And you are, miss?”

“Hi,” You introduce yourself, “I called ahead a week ago, two days ago, yesterday, and this morning hoping to see my brother.” You can sense the man’s hesitance, “It doesn’t have to be a long visit at all! I would have never come if the woman on the phone this morning didn’t say you weren’t accepting visitors today. It’s just, I’m from out of town and traveled down here to specifically talk to my brother. Our mom has terminal cancer and I wanted to tell him in person.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” The warden pauses and looks over to the more senior Agent Gideon to gauge his reaction.

Agent Gideon gives you a small grin and glance and then turns back to address the warden, “I assure you it would be no bother at all if the young woman were to talk to her brother.”

“I would agree if it weren’t for the volatile nature of Adrian Bale, Agent Gideon,” The warden responds. At least this man seems a little bit more sympathetic to your situation. Much more than the guard who has remained in the room who has taken to just staring ahead past all three of you still waiting to enter the prison at the wall.

This time Dr. Reid pipes up, “I assume Mr. Bale will be restrained when we conduct our interview in a secure room with multiple guards posted in and outside the room. I also doubt that her brother is housed in the same maximum security wing that Mr. Bale is in.”

He looks to you towards the tail end of his last sentence and you take action, “No, he isn’t. He’s in general population and I would really only need 10 minutes, sir.”

The warden ponders for a bit before looking between you, Dr. Reid, and Agent Gideon and then again back to you. A small slightly defeated smile creeps up on his face.

“I am sure I can spare a few guards and arrange for a short visit with your brother.” The warden motions to the prison guard who sighs and grabs the walkie-talkie off his belt and arranges for some guards to handle the visit.

You can’t help but have a wide smile appear on your face and you verbally thank the warden and the prison guard, although that one is much more forced. Then you turn back to Dr. Reid and Agent Gideon.

“Thank you so much,” You say, formally introducing yourself and then holding out your hand.

Both men shake your hand and wave it off, although Dr. Reid seems much more hesitant to extend out his hand and shake it in yours. Even as he does it, you can tell his hand is a little bit clammy.

“Please,” Agent Gideon responds, “It was no big deal.”

You hear a buzzing noise come from the gated entrance and realize they are letting you through. You put your purse and phone in the plastic tray provided to you by a guard and wave at both men as you are led down the cement and stone hallway. The last thing you see when you turn the corner is Dr. Reid smiling, glancing his gaze between you and his shoes.

Both of you involuntarily blush when your eyes make contact and you, almost regretfully, watch his figure disappear as you move after the guards.

. . .

As you moved through the gated doors, a buzzing noise sounding out your arrival, you had a lot of thoughts on your mind. One of them, however, was not seeing the Dr. Reid again in the same room as before.

“Dr. Reid?” You questioned as you came through, you thanked the new prison guard who handed you the plastic tray with your belongings in it. Gathering your purse and phone.

“Oh,” Dr. Reid responded, “Hi, uh, please, just call me Spencer.”

There was a standing silence for a few moments, both of you not sure what to say to the other.

“How did it go?” You both say in unison. Your faces turn a nice flush and you share a nice chuckle on how you spoke together.

“Um, how did your interview go?” You ask. There’s a small look of confusion on his face and you go to elaborate, “Your interview with Adrian Bale? I heard you and your colleague mention it earlier. He’s the Boston Shrapnel Bomber, right?”

Spencer nods, “Yeah, it, uh, went okay.”

You cringe at yourself, “It’s probably official FBI business right? You can’t really talk about it, can you?” You ask.

“It really wasn’t that eventful, actually,” He responds with a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on written on his face. You’re not sure you believe the entire statement, there seems to be another few thoughts running in his mind.  

“So, where’s your colleague?” You ask. You hadn’t seen Agent Gideon since you walked back into the main entrance.

Spencer picks out his phone from his pocket and shows it to you, “I was just calling him. He left to take care of something else,” He explains vaguely.

You don’t pay much attention to the poor explanation, you know its probably something not meant for your eyes and ears.

“What about you?” Spencer asked, “Your, uh, visit with your brother. How did it go?”

You shrugged, “As good as something like telling your brother your mom has cancer can go. That she’s terminal and in palliative care. That she’s not gonna get better and will die.”

“I’m sorry that your mom is sick.” He replied.

You nodded. It was something that you had heard from dozens of people in the past couple months.

“My mom,” Spencer starts saying, by his tone it almost seems like its difficult to say, “She, uh, has paranoid schizophrenia.”

That was not something you had heard from others. Definitely not.

When you don’t answer at first, Spencer backtracks, “I, uh, don’t know why I said that. It’s not like its a competition, I’m so so-”

“Don’t worry about it,” You interrupt and wave his concerns off, “I’m really sorry about your mom too.”

Spencer gives you a small awkward smile, “Thanks. I really don’t know why I told you that. I haven’t really told anyone about my mom before.”

You return the smile, “I find that people are much more open to talk about their tragedies with people who are currently going through one.” You respond.

“God,” You scoff at yourself, “That was kinda sappy and poetic.” You state.

You walk over towards Spencer and go to sit at one of the plastic folding chairs set against the wall. They weren’t built for maximum comfort, this was a prison after all.

“Do you wanna sit?” You offer to Spencer, “You can keep me company until you have to leave or until my bus comes.” You say, checking outside for any sign of said bus.

Spencer nods, wipes his hands on his pants and walks over, sitting in the seat next to you. He places his satchel bag that was over his shoulder and sitting on his hip to the ground below you, joining where you sat your own purse.

“Is it just you and your brother?” Spencer asks, trying to make small talk.

You shake your head, “No, we have an older brother. He’s four years older than me. I’m the middle child and only daughter.”

“Could he not visit?” Spencer prys.

If it were anyone else asking this question, you would probaby give some half-assed answer, but to be honest, you were awfully bottled up emotionally from today’s visit and perhaps you did find truth in sharing tragedies.

“They’re not on talking terms, my brothers. Jeremiah, the one I’m visiting, is in prison for embezzling money and he’s loaned a lot more money from family too. He has a gambling addiction.” You explain.

“David, my older brother, got him a job at his workplace and when Jeremiah stole money from work, David got fired. David doesn’t want anything to do with Jeremiah and certainly wasn’t gonna come down to tell him about mom. And Dad refuses to leaves mom’s side ever since she’s gone into palliative care. He’s afraid that if he leaves, she’ll die.”

“So, you came out here to tell your brother?”

You nod, “Yeah. He didn’t deserve to find out in a letter and even though Dad and David are pissed at him right now, he still deserves the time that each of us got. To ask questions about mom’s condition and get some information.”

Spencer gives you a smile, “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“Thanks,” You reply, then your expression turns more somber, “Is it weird that I’m not mad at him? I mean, he borrowed ten thousand dollars I know I’ll never get back and got my brother fired and stole from my parents and the family business, but I just can’t stay mad at him.”

“I don’t think that’s weird.” Spencer assured you with a small smile on his face. The more you looked at him, you couldn’t believe how a guy so nice and caring and comforting was just interviewing one of the most dangerous criminals in the area.

“So, uh,” You go to change the subject, “Do you have any good food recommendations while I’m in town?” You inquire. You were hoping that whatever he suggested could be turned around in an excuse to maybe get dinner. Sure, it wasn’t practical since you were just visiting and you had only just met the guy, but then again, it’s not like you went and told all your family drama to everyone you just met.

There was something about this guy in particular, with his sweet hair and awkward posture that caught your eye and warmed your heart.

He chuckled and fiddled with the strap of his satchel bag on the edge of his chair, “I, uh, actually don’t live here. My team and I traveled down for a case from Quantico, Virginia.”

Your eyes widened a bit, “Oh,” It was your turn to chuckle now, “I live in D.C.” You respond.

“Wait,” He asks of you, “Really?”

You confirm with a nod and laugh out loud, “Yeah, I’m a political analyst on Capital Hill! It’s kind of crazy to meet here of all places, right? An unusual coincidence.”

“Actually, coincidences often seem more remarkable when they happen than they actually are. From a statistical perspective, coincidences are just events that happen with unlikely probability. Famed psychologist, Carl Jung, has said that there are no such things as coincidences, just synchronities.”

You stared at him in part awe and part adoration. You had previously scanned his hands for a wedding ring and didn’t find anything so you really hoped that he wasn’t dating or engaged to anyone because you’d really like to get to know this man more.

You guess he took your staring and silence in embarrassment because even though his cheeks flushed, he backtracked heavily.

“But, um, yeah!” He said, his voice cracking a little bit, “It’s pretty, uh, cool? To meet here, in a prison of all places.” His hand seems to instinctively go to brush his hair back behind his ear, even though it was already there.

You bite your lip and decide to make the first move, your heart starting to race, “Well, maybe when we’re both back in D.C, we can meet up and get some dinner.” You state slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.

The flush of his cheeks seem to travel across his face and to the tips of his ears, “That would be really nice.” He nods and glances up at your face instead of down at the floor.

You both turn your heads to the glass entrance doors to see the approaching visitors bus, the engines loud humming being able to be heard from all the way across the parking lot to inside the building.

“Oh,” You say and start getting up and getting your purse together. You rifle around in your bag and finally get a hold of a business card that just so happens to include your email and phone number on it.

You look at Spencer and give him a kind smile, “Here, when you’re back in the DMV area, call me and we can set up that dinner.”

Spencer gently takes the card from your hand and looks at it and then back at you, “Thank you, I will be sure to do so.” He says, a contagious grin on his face. An expression like he almost couldn’t believe what was happening.

“It was really nice to meet you, Spencer.” You say and then turn to go and leave, before pushing the glass door open, you turn your head over your shoulder and see Spencer staring back at you, giving you a small wave.

You wave your hand back and silently wish that he puts the number on your card to good use, but only time will really tell. As you make your way to the bus to leave, you realize your heart hasn’t stopped racing and you smile.

[to-be-a-dreamer]

I Don't Need to Live Forever (Just Not One Day Longer Than You) - Newsies Tuck Everlasting AU Ch 1 - 2

Read it on AO3

"I lived with the lie for ten years before I could finally bring myself to admit there was something deeply wrong with my husband. If I were a smarter man I would say I regretted it, I would say I want nothing more than to forget those ten years and pretend they never happened. I would destroy all remaining evidence of that old life and refuse to speak of it ever again. Unfortunately, I’ve always been a stupid, lovesick fool wherever Jack Larkin was involved."

~~*~~

Davey Jacobs is the happiest person alive. He has a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter, a loving family, and a great life in a small town in New Hampshire at the birth of the new century. The only problem is there's something deeply wrong with his husband's family. In the ten years since Davey met the Larkin family, they hadn't changed, they hadn't grown. None of them ever got sick or hurt.

Davey Jacobs is the happiest person alive, and he would never do anything to hurt Jack if he could help it. But when faced with the choice to protect his daughter or continue living a lie?

There was really only one choice.

~~*~~

"Prequel" of my Tuck Everlasting AU in which Jack is Miles and Davey is his husband.

Welcome to my contribution to the @newsiesminibang24! I'll be posting two chapters at a time, every couple of days. The whole fic is already written (other than like a chapter and a half) so it should be smooth sailing until we get to the end. My favorite chapters are by far the last four or five so I hope y'all enjoy!

Be sure to check out my incredible artist partner @gay-little-axolotl

[solarsonicsoda]

Rebbie's Wrestling Show Reviews - RevPro: Live in Southampton 29 (1/4/2024)

April Fool’s Day, Bank Holiday Monday, and RevPro Live in Southampton 29! It was a big day on 1st April 2024. Me and my dad made our way down to The 1865 for an evening of wrestling greatness just 24 hours after Revolution Rumble 2024, where Luke Jacobs would win the titular match! Before the show, we perused the merch tables which had quite a lot to choose from! I ended up picking up a signed print from the Grizzled Young Veterans. I’m a big fan of GYV, as well as a fellow Liverpool FC fan, so I simply had to. Shook their hands and they recognised us from roughly 30 minutes before when we had both been in the same Forbidden Planet shop looking around. My dad actually had to point them out to me after I walked straight past them somehow. I was also able to get a photo with them, which was awesome. Lovely blokes! We then stood back and got ready for the show.

As Francesca kicked things off, David Francisco got on the mic to express his frustrations. He’s sick and tired of being a Contender, essentially a trainee of RevPro, a position he has held for well over 2 years. He takes off his Contenders shirt, revealing his Chaotic Neutral tee, and says he’s stepping away from being a Contender whether management likes it or not. The crowd are absolutely chuffed to hear this, and he gets a great reaction. As he storms out, he runs into the Contender he beat for a spot in the Rumble, Joshua James.

Gabe Kidd def. Joshua James in 10:14

Fun smacking scrap, with a whole lot of chanting to start. Great sport for Josh James! This one had lots of wild chops and slaps, and was a pretty good slugfest! Kidd gets the win after a good showing by James, the big man being put away by a Kidd piledriver. It would take “War Ready” two attempts though, with his knee buckling on the first. Kidd won, but James was the one who left under his own power, and Kidd appeared to respect him for his effort.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Oskar Leube vs. Mike D Vecchio ended in a double countout in 9:55

Absolutely wild big man clash from two monsters! Leube is a exciting big man and Vecchio impressed me greatly in my first exposure to him. The “Belgian War Machine” is absolutely massive, his shoulders are about as wide as he is tall, and the things he does despite such a superstar look were incredible. The speed with which both men hit the ropes was insane, and Vecchio hit flips and the like it was nothing. All his offense was off the chain, leaping halfway across the ring and chopping like he wanted to go through Leube. Despite a small slow period in the middle, this one was electric and it’s a shame it ended how it did. Both men obliged the fans though and kept fighting until RevPro officials tore them apart. I want to see these two go at it again.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Robbie X def. Aigle Blanc in 15:56

Cruiserweight clash! This one took a small amount of time to grow on me, but by the end this one was an awesome time. Just two great high-flyers giving it their all for the Southampton faithful. It was frenetic, it was fast, and it was a good time for all. A Canadian Destroyer followed by an X-Clamation get the win for Robbie X.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Luke Jacobs def. Shigehiro Irie in 13:12

One more match before the break and it’s a big one! The number one contender to the Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship takes on “Beast Mode”. This one didn’t quite live up to my loftiest of hopes, but it was a pretty good big man clash in the end. Lots of meaty chops, big power moves, and even a stark reminder from Irie to “never give up”! We were sure to “Get Shiggy with it” as we chanted, but Jacobs would get the win in the end by making Irie tap-out to the crossface. I guess sometimes you need to give up…

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

With that, it was time for intermission. We took this one easy and eagerly awaited the second half.

Anthony Ogogo def. Sha Samuels in 11:17

The Guv’nor is here whether we like it or not to take on the East End Bookie. This was a decent match of beloved babyface against hated heel, but it all came to an end when Ogogo hit that devastating right hand. Bosh.

3 STARS OUT OF 5

Ogogo got on the mic here to berate the crowd and laud over us all his accomplishments in RevPro, such as defeating RKJ and Samuels, as well as eliminating Oku from the Rumble. He wants the RevPro Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship, and tells Oku and his “Irish slag” Amira to listen up and give him the match. That’s not very nice. But Oku’s not at home! Here comes the champ, and he tells Ogogo to watch his mouth, reminding him that the last time he made a feud about nationality, he “accidentally made Cody Rhodes solve racism”. Huge pop for that one! Oku says if he wants a match he has it, and that they can do it right now. They brawl in the ring but a right hand knocks Oku out cold. Could the champion be in trouble?

Grizzled Young Veterans (Zack Gibson & James Drake) (c) def. Sunshine Machine (Chuck Mambo & TK Cooper) for the RevPro Undisputed British Tag Team Championships in 16:49

The new champs are here to take on the ever-popular Sunshine Machine! Some words are exchanged and once we made an acceptable amount of noise, the GYV decided to oblige us all and put the titles on the line! This was a good fun tag clash between two of the UK’s best teams. Mambo’s mastery of the ropes was on full display, as was the lethal speed of Drake and his flying dropkicks. It’s back and forth, with both teams looking to be victorious on occasions until Mambo is planted with a Doomsday Device and a double Ticket to Ride facebreaker for the win. Grit your teeth.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Post match, GYV offer a handshake which a frustrated Sunshine Machine weakly accept. They aren’t happy. Francesca heads into the ring to ask them what’s next for them. Mambo is still pretty out of it, so TK Cooper gives his answer. He sarcastically thanks Francesca for rubbing it in with her question, saying he hasn’t seen her do this anywhere else on the show. Another big pop in the promos here, we loved that. Cooper says they never win in Southampton (they have technically won 2 out of 7 here but shhhhh, one was an elimination 8-man tag though). He concludes they need to go back to the drawing board somewhat, and they take their leave.

Josh Alexander def. JJ Gale in 18:31

It’s the hometown boy versus the international star from Canada. Loud chants of “He’s one of our own” to kick things off. This was a pretty good clash between two top draw wrestlers. Gale gave his absolute all to put away the more experienced Alexander, hitting multiple dives and a whole bunch of his signature offense, but he’s never able to connect with that Gale Force. Alexander himself dishes out all sorts of punishment like rolling German suplexes, an ankle lock, and a powerbomb onto the knee, but Gale weathered through it all. When the straps come down and that brutal C4 Spike is hit by Alexander though, that’s all she wrote for Gale. 

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Final Thoughts After JJ Gale takes his moment main-eventing in his hometown, Francesca is here to say goodbye. We all join in to help along with the website name as the show comes to an end! Overall, it was a pretty fun show with some solid storyline advancement, and it maybe just needed a truly great match to reach the top tiers! Lovely stuff! I think for me this one has to be 3.5 STARS OUT OF 5 for me

[cullen-by-choice]

A Twilight Visitor

Series Masterlist

Carlisle Cullen x Fem!WitchOc (Elise DuMont)

5/?

Warnings and Tags: Language, Apologies, Stressful Phone Calls and the Sweater is ruined forever

~

Elise was still scrubbing out the stain a week later.

She sighed. It had been twenty minutes over the blistering, soapy sink. The mark of light roast coffee rested on the fabric, triumphant as ever. She wiped her cheek with her shoulder, observing the ruined garment before her.

“Well,” she said to no one in particular, “Fuck. That sucks.”

She dried off her hands after wringing out the soiled sweater. It saddened her that it was going into retirement as one of her bedtime clothes.

Elise considered sending Edward some sort of dry cleaning bill. She wouldn’t expect him to pay it, but it would’ve been lovely to see the vein pop in his head.

The town had been much too focused on the sibling tiff in the parking lot to even remember the coffee fiasco. Elise found herself grateful for that.

The least amount of attention she got, the better.

Twilight had begun outside her little cottage. The light of the dying day kissing the tips of the peaks made for a holy sort of show. Elise stared into it, letting her thoughts run freely for the first time in a while.

Jacob was sick.

She felt it coming from miles off. The fever that broke out of shifters was infamous, but she had gotten her first full taste with it in the flesh now. Jacob had looked absolutely miserable the first time she visited. Billy had said it was only going to get worse, when his son was out of earshot.

The memories of those fresh cries to agony made her blood chill.

Vampires. They were the cause of this.

She had tried to do research the best she could. The blood sucking creatures existed in the realms of mythology to the general population. That made it difficult to try to search through the internet for anything real.

She had wanted to ask Billy for more. Obvious circumstances made that impossible even if she wanted to.

A knock at the front of her door took her out of her reverie.

Elise glanced over toward the noise, eyebrows furrowed. She lived on the very edge of town- the same home she was raised in. The Dumonts chose this place for seclusion.

So who was willingly interrupting it, unannounced?

She rolled up her baggy pants to her calves before heading to answer the call.

Carlisle stood on her porch, looking out to the scenery behind him. Once he heard the door open, his eyes found her.

Calmer than last time she had seen him.

The Cullens hadn’t entered town for a week since Edward’s fit. It might’ve been to save face- she hadn’t known for sure if the doctor was still attending his practice. Surely he was. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to cower and seclude himself.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “Miss Dumont.”

“It’s Elise,” she insisted once again, leaning against the door. She crossed her arms, clearing her throat.

He sighed, the smile fading a tad, “I… I know I just dropped by unannounced. I’m sorry.”

“Why should you be sorry?”

“I’m afraid both me and my family have made utter fools of ourselves towards you.”

Him? What did he do? Sure, Edward was a Dick with a capital letter. Carlisle hadn’t done a single thing besides care about her…

… as her doctor. As her doctor.

“What Edward did was abhorrent and downright embarrassing. He was acting like a tosspot.”

Yet another odd term.

“I can’t disagree,” she shrugged, “Ed seems real uptight.”

“He is. I can’t entirely blame him, but he’s also somewhat of a nightmare.”

“He accused me of stalking you guys.”

Carlisle looked away. She was surprised he didn’t have a sort of blush on his cheeks to go with the sheepish expression. He brought his amber eyes back to her, “I can’t apologize for that enough.”

Elise shrugged, “Good thing you don’t have to.”

“I’m afraid I have to. I lost my temper… in public.”

“Well, everybody does now and again.”

Carlisle stared at her. She wondered how long he could go without blinking. He then finally shook his head, “Our fights have gotten… ugly in the past. I would be mortified if that ever happened again. I just can’t excuse the slightest mess up in that regard.”

“You hold yourself to some pretty noble standards,” she thought out loud.

His eyes glinted. He cleared his throat, “I try to be, at least. Which… brings me to why I’m here talking to you tonight. Beyond apologizing in person.”

She raised an eyebrow.

Carlisle cleared his throat, “I would like to donate some books to your bookshop.”

El blinked. “I’m sorry… you what?”

“My family has an extensive library. It’s been in the family for centuries now. I’m sure I could find a few books fine enough to be sold at your leisure.”

She wanted to laugh. Not to mock, not out of humor. Just pure shock at the statement. The man standing at her doorstep had no reason to feel obligated.

“That… would be extremely generous of you,” she spoke, her voice soft, “but I hope you don’t feel like you have to apologize for anything.”

“I’m sure we can agree to disagree.”

She huffed out a laugh now. Out of humor. Partly out of exhaustion.

He kept his eyes on her as she did so. A smile of his own graced his mouth.

“You… are so odd,” she shook her head.

“What makes you think so? The crazy brother part, or the fact I’m offering you books?”

“You just… I don’t know.”

“I just what?”

His tone was probing. It danced along her skin and veins, begging her to open up.

Why did she feel compelled to?

“You carry yourself with this sort of class. Like you were raised right. It’s shocking to see someone in this modern day act with that type of grace anymore.”

Crap. Did she just overshare?

Her cheeks felt slapped-red as Carlisle studied her for a moment. Probably finding a specific rhyme and reason for why what she said was way out of line. Too intimate and comfortable.

Elise had been known to be too introspective with strangers. It was the witch in her, trying to find some form of connection behind the surface. Finding metaphors in her interactions was a hobby and pastime. And boy, did it put people off-

“You speak so passionately.”

She blinked. If she was red before, she was now diving into true, heated crimson. Her mouth opened. Then shut. Elise was floundering for words. She was flustered- downright robbed of speech.

“Don’t worry, I like it,” he smiled.

She could’ve died on the spot. Unnamed emotions were rooting their way into her arms and thighs. She swallowed, nodding without being able to do much more than look stupid.

Before she could speak again properly, her phone began ringing in her pocket. She reached in, seeing Billy’s name illuminating its way onto her screen.

Her panic shifted into another kind, her eyes widening as she looked up, “Sorry. I gotta—“ she gestured down.

Carlisle nodded, even being as polite as to take a few steps away to let her have her conversation.

She answered, and wasn’t even to get a word out.

“Elise?” Billy’s voice spoke.

His voice was ragged, high pitched and worried.

“Billy? What’s up?”

“He… oh god. He did it. He just did it.”

Her stomach dropped.

“He…?”

The static of the phone call was her only answer.

“O-okay. Is he safe?”

“I don’t know- he just ran off and….”

Crap. She sighed, her stomach dropping past her knees and into the ground. Time for feelings could be had later. For now, she had to follow through and help the Black family.

“Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Don’t worry.”

They both knew there was reason to.

They both knew it was useless to vocalize that. Not when an emotionally volatile wolf was roaming these North Pacific forests.

They said brief goodbyes. When she turned to face her visitor, he was convienently looking the other way.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…”

“It seemed important. Don’t worry. We can always discuss things later.”

Later. That word would’ve comforted her, had her mind not been racing through hell.

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen.”

“Until next time, Elise.”

~~~

Tag List: @not-ellie

[thedivinelights]

co-writers: @vincentholdsapen, @vixx-ari

Summary:

Ten years have passed since those fateful visitations, and Ebenezer Scrooge finally casts off his life as a mortal to ascend to the afterlife. Yet this is not the end of his tale, for Jacob Marley comes with a proposal he wouldn't dare to refuse.

Now learning how to harness his newfound abilities, the former miser must now prepare himself to defend the both the living and the dead, wielding the chains he cast aside to collect the rebellious souls who dare to harm either realm alongside the spectres who once guided him... with some unfamiliar spirits.

Needless to say, Scrooge has quite the journey ahead of him.

[SNIPPET UNDER THE CUT]

"Hurry, you two! Try to keep up!" Past gave a grin as they walked ahead of the duo, occasionally shifting into the forms of the occasional passerby to greet them before turning back into the form of Milligan. "We'll be late to the festivities if you two just lumber along like that!"

The two spirits groaned in unison, with Scrooge rubbing his eyes as he walked; it was too early for him to have the mental capacity to deal with this. "Do we truly have to go to this fair, Past? 'Tis just going to be a bunch of love-struck fools making googly eyes at each other and puckering their lips."

Marley, having resigned himself to his fate, shrugged his shoulders, causing his chains to rattle around him. "I'll admit, I don't see the harm in it, Ebenezer. We spend so much time indoors to begin with, maybe the change of pace would be good for us."

"Well, yes, but-"

"And besides..." Marley tilted his head to Past, whose waxy figure was still flitting ahead of them. "You know how they are. Once they have their head stuck into something, it is nearly impossible to dissuade them. I think it best to go along with them. Make the most of the situation, eh?"

Scrooge grumbled under his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, eventually acquiescing to the whims of the wonderfully annoying yet open-handed Entis that was the Ghost of Christmas Past and eliciting a quiet laugh from his partner beside him.

They continued to trod along the streets, before finally getting to the fair. Neither of the two men had been to a single fair in their lives — so much to do, so little time to do so, they supposed — so the sight was definitely something to behold. The glistening horses that pranced around the carousels. The array of colourful streamers and balloons that littered the once dismal grounds. The people who walked about in pairs, threes, groups of five or more, with nothing but content and enjoyment in their undead souls. Yes, it was most definitely a sight to see.

“It’s loud.” Scrooge grumbled, his hands hovering over his ears as if it lessened the noise. “I did not imagine that there would be so many…”

“People?” Marley finished his partner’s sentence as he trailed off, looking around the field with an expression that could easily be interpreted as confused, astonished or almost terrified. Scrooge was certainly no better than him, eyeing those porcelain horses as if he’d seen a ghost. Hyperbole, of course.

Past though, ever the juxtaposition to their money lending companions, was essentially bouncing off both feet, screeching in their throat in what had to be in complete and utter thrill. Who would think an essentially omnipotent and omniscient being in terms of past events, and one of the triad of the Christmas, would be so enthralled with the festivities of romance and intimacy?

Whatever sickness of anticipation the spirit seemed to have caught must have not been contagious, as Scrooge's hands tightened around it himself, still eyeing those porcelain with cautious eyes. He almost shifted the opposite way from it. Marley was attempting to gather his chains in a somewhat orderly way, apologizing sincerely to another spirit who must have hit his foot in one of the metal boxes from how he hissed and hopped away in pain. 

Tagged: @undeadchestnut @pinkytoothlesso11 @girlbosseveyhammond

[afarcry5fromstraight]

☀️😚🍁🐇💤

☀️  - Did they both want children/How many children did they want? 

I'd like to think they both want kids, but have the exact same crippling fear of that much responsibility, even genetically.

Jacob never considered giving himself the option, thankfully Joseph was a better 'mom' to John than he could be when they were kids. Jacob is weary of kids for a lot of the same reasons dogs are.. They're loud and unpredictable, cause complications frequently and in general are difficult to predict. Mistakes are a given and the general automatic acceptance of that is a large pill to swallow, mentally.

Chloe remembers the earlier years with her mom, she was ethereal. Meredith Felix had a seemingly endless well of patience, both for mistakes and questions alike. Her brother was constantly breaking things, Chloe taking blame in an attempt to cover it up. Mere just took it as an opportunity to learn something new, and somehow was incredibly good at whatever it was she was trying for the very first time... That was before Luca died. That same woman never breathed another breath of life, a ragged shell void of anything familiar at all left in her shadow. Chloe's worst fear is emotionally neglecting her theoretical children.

😚 - When one gets sick, what does the other do? 

Chloe is 1 of 2 ways when Jacob is sick and it's entirely dependent on his attitude at the very moment. She will either take care of him tenderly, or yeet the costco sized Tylenol at his head. Can't hurt that bad if he thought it was a good idea to talk to her like that.

Jacob does the slightly gaslighty 'what are you, a pussy?' ploy up to a certain degree. Over a certain line of sick it becomes his absolute upmost priority to make sure Chloe takes her meds exactly the minute she should. He weighed her 4oz of soup at a time when she had the Flu- Theo almost lost his life making a joke over it- thankfully her fever came down shortly after and Theo was given the privilege of greeting another morning.

🍁  - How was their first kiss? 

I'd love to tell you there was this super hot scene but the moment was rather human and awkward. Chloe knelt down to the ground, Jacob kneeling down in front of her to try and see her tear stained face better. She was coming out of a close overdose of bliss, and still incurably out of sorts over her failure to even follow these plans through. Leaning forward she lost her balance, the dirt softer than she realized making her topple forwards into him. Jacob didn't have the most secure foot stance on this hill either, arm bracing the weight of them both as she fumbled into his chest. They miss, before Jacob rights both of them by pulling her into his lap. No mistaking what she just attempted, so.. fuck it. She'd blame it on the bliss later.

🐇  - Who wants to cuddle the other longer in the morning? 

Chloe. Jacob wants to lay in bed, but the longer he lays still the more ache his body dons for the day. Worse for wear is worth it, but only to a degree. Chloe thinks Jacob sleeps through his first alarm and bitches about it constantly to Theo, but Theo knows damn well Jacob wakes the first time. Those are Jacob's 5 minutes of solace, committing Chloe in her most peaceful state.

💤   - Who falls asleep first? 

Chloe falls asleep first. In the beginning she would try her best to outlast the Seed, particularly when she started in the trials. It took Chloe a very, very long time to comfortably fall asleep in the same room as Jacob. Between her distrust of his brothers and own instinct, she was slowly killing herself by refusing to rest until after Jacob.

This is why Jacob started pretending to fall asleep first. He'd always been good at faking a true sleep, between his childhood and the Army. At her best Chloe would be able to tell the difference, but sleep deprived and living out of spite it was easier to fool her. The more she got into the habit of sleeping though, the more natural the cycle was. Jacob doesn't really even pretend anymore, just waits a few minutes until he hears her breathing change to the rhythm his conscious recognizes as his own cue for rest.

[audiofuzz]

HEAR: Americana Folk Rock | Mipso - “Broken Heart / Open Heart”

North Carolina based indie-Americana folk quartet Mipso share the contemplative and gentle track "Broken Heart / Open Heart" out everywhere now. The band's propulsive sixth studio album Book of Fools, is due out August 25. The album is now available to pre-order digitally here and on vinyl here. Plus, the band will embark on an extensive tour across North America beginning in Portsmouth, NH on August 17 with tickets on sale now via mipsomusic.com/tour. "Broken Heart / Open Heart" is an earnest processing of grief and display of love and hope amidst loss. "Broken Heart / Open Heart" out today, was built around the idea that a broken heart can become an open heart. On the track, the band builds to a simmering pace, but it never boils over–the intimate vocal is gripping, alongside the muted piano and an overdriven guitar that add grit to the bittersweetness. Mandolinist and vocalist Jacob Sharp and guitarist Joseph Terrell wrote the track together that became a vessel for his processing of the grief that comes in the wake of losing someone you love. Referencing the gut-wrenching opening lyrics, "How do you tell someone you’re lonely, when they’re sitting by your side?" Sharp shares, "I’ve had a couple friends recently who lost a family member for the first time. My mom was sick for a long time - I remember hard times, and I was broken for a while after she passed." Despite the immense pain and heartache Sharp endured, he's able to embrace the brokenness to rebuild himself. Sharp continues, "Now I look back grateful to have been broken enough to have had to decide how to put myself back together. There’s a universal binding in that feeling of realizing you’re broken enough to be wide open - and I think with the right support and love that openness can be a gift. " Book of Fools, the forthcoming sixth studio album by Mipso out August 25, sees the band at their most assured, guided mostly by their own intuition and less impacted by time constraints, expectations or outside forces. Over ten cohesive tracks, driving rhythms, earnest, thoughtful lyricism guide the band back to their roots and who they are at their core. As Terrell puts it, "'Book of Fools' feels more relaxed, more confident, more us – like we’re wearing our favorite clothes and telling our favorite story and it feels exciting again.” There's a fresh, solid confidence and profound understanding of one another that radiates through the music. It's this palpable connection that can only come from this group playing together around the world several hundreds of times and it's here they rediscover their joy and unmatched connection as musicians and as best friends. The previously shared tracks "The Numbers," and "Carolina Rolling By" have captivated fans who are eagerly anticipating the forthcoming project. "Carolina Rolling By" earned the band the cover of Spotify's Roots Rising and number one spot on the playlist, plus placements on Summer Acoustic, Chill Folk, Fresh Folk, Apple's New in Americana, Southern Craft and Amazon's Fresh Folk & Americana. "The Numbers" also appeared on Fresh Folk and New in Americana. "The Numbers" is a rhythmic, wry, finger-wagging observation of the market-obsessed culture that permeates American society. Inspired by NPR's Kai Ryssdal and his signature phrase, "Let’s do the numbers!," the band wonders how tracking the daily economic tea leaves became a veritable religious observance for the ruling class. Fiddler and vocalist Libby Rodenbough recalls hearing an Iowan voter on TV discussing presidential candidates and saying, “I like the incumbent because the stock market’s doing well.” Rodenough says, "I looked around at this cruel place where we live and I felt forlorn that the NASDAQ offers anybody any kind of comfort. How do I know things are bad? Because I feel it, and I see it.” The notion that the success of the stock market had very little to do with the actual lived experiences of everyday people laid the foundation for the groovy, slick "The Numbers." The first taste of the forthcoming project, "Carolina Rolling By" is a relaxed, country-tinged groove that tells the story of a down-and-out pill-popping truck driver trying to get back on his feet. Written in part as a love letter to driving around their home state, Mipso's signature layered, poignant harmonies paint a vibrant portrait of the view out of the driver's window–the deep, clear blue sky with the sun beating down and the crisp air floating by. Terrell says the song came about after a boating accident that led to him needing to take painkillers during recovery. Similar to previous Mipso releases, the track finds beauty in pain and allowed Terrell the space to craft the ode to driving through North Carolina that he's always wanted to make. It was during his recovery that the song materialized. Terrell says with a fresh understanding of the power of pills, "I couldn’t walk for 12 days but I had my grandma’s guitar and some hydrocodone and worked on this song I think because I fully understood for the first time how anyone could get addicted to those." Read the full article

[chrisryanspeaks]

HEAR: Americana Folk Rock | Mipso - “Broken Heart / Open Heart”

North Carolina based indie-Americana folk quartet Mipso share the contemplative and gentle track "Broken Heart / Open Heart" out everywhere now. The band's propulsive sixth studio album Book of Fools, is due out August 25. The album is now available to pre-order digitally here and on vinyl here. Plus, the band will embark on an extensive tour across North America beginning in Portsmouth, NH on August 17 with tickets on sale now via mipsomusic.com/tour. "Broken Heart / Open Heart" is an earnest processing of grief and display of love and hope amidst loss. "Broken Heart / Open Heart" out today, was built around the idea that a broken heart can become an open heart. On the track, the band builds to a simmering pace, but it never boils over–the intimate vocal is gripping, alongside the muted piano and an overdriven guitar that add grit to the bittersweetness. Mandolinist and vocalist Jacob Sharp and guitarist Joseph Terrell wrote the track together that became a vessel for his processing of the grief that comes in the wake of losing someone you love. Referencing the gut-wrenching opening lyrics, "How do you tell someone you’re lonely, when they’re sitting by your side?" Sharp shares, "I’ve had a couple friends recently who lost a family member for the first time. My mom was sick for a long time - I remember hard times, and I was broken for a while after she passed." Despite the immense pain and heartache Sharp endured, he's able to embrace the brokenness to rebuild himself. Sharp continues, "Now I look back grateful to have been broken enough to have had to decide how to put myself back together. There’s a universal binding in that feeling of realizing you’re broken enough to be wide open - and I think with the right support and love that openness can be a gift. " Book of Fools, the forthcoming sixth studio album by Mipso out August 25, sees the band at their most assured, guided mostly by their own intuition and less impacted by time constraints, expectations or outside forces. Over ten cohesive tracks, driving rhythms, earnest, thoughtful lyricism guide the band back to their roots and who they are at their core. As Terrell puts it, "'Book of Fools' feels more relaxed, more confident, more us – like we’re wearing our favorite clothes and telling our favorite story and it feels exciting again.” There's a fresh, solid confidence and profound understanding of one another that radiates through the music. It's this palpable connection that can only come from this group playing together around the world several hundreds of times and it's here they rediscover their joy and unmatched connection as musicians and as best friends. The previously shared tracks "The Numbers," and "Carolina Rolling By" have captivated fans who are eagerly anticipating the forthcoming project. "Carolina Rolling By" earned the band the cover of Spotify's Roots Rising and number one spot on the playlist, plus placements on Summer Acoustic, Chill Folk, Fresh Folk, Apple's New in Americana, Southern Craft and Amazon's Fresh Folk & Americana. "The Numbers" also appeared on Fresh Folk and New in Americana. "The Numbers" is a rhythmic, wry, finger-wagging observation of the market-obsessed culture that permeates American society. Inspired by NPR's Kai Ryssdal and his signature phrase, "Let’s do the numbers!," the band wonders how tracking the daily economic tea leaves became a veritable religious observance for the ruling class. Fiddler and vocalist Libby Rodenbough recalls hearing an Iowan voter on TV discussing presidential candidates and saying, “I like the incumbent because the stock market’s doing well.” Rodenough says, "I looked around at this cruel place where we live and I felt forlorn that the NASDAQ offers anybody any kind of comfort. How do I know things are bad? Because I feel it, and I see it.” The notion that the success of the stock market had very little to do with the actual lived experiences of everyday people laid the foundation for the groovy, slick "The Numbers." The first taste of the forthcoming project, "Carolina Rolling By" is a relaxed, country-tinged groove that tells the story of a down-and-out pill-popping truck driver trying to get back on his feet. Written in part as a love letter to driving around their home state, Mipso's signature layered, poignant harmonies paint a vibrant portrait of the view out of the driver's window–the deep, clear blue sky with the sun beating down and the crisp air floating by. Terrell says the song came about after a boating accident that led to him needing to take painkillers during recovery. Similar to previous Mipso releases, the track finds beauty in pain and allowed Terrell the space to craft the ode to driving through North Carolina that he's always wanted to make. It was during his recovery that the song materialized. Terrell says with a fresh understanding of the power of pills, "I couldn’t walk for 12 days but I had my grandma’s guitar and some hydrocodone and worked on this song I think because I fully understood for the first time how anyone could get addicted to those." Read the full article

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

13th July >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Wednesday, Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

    or 

Saint Henry.

Wednesday, Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

Isaiah 10:5-7,13-16

Assyria's arrogance and coming ruin.

The Lord of hosts says this:

Woe to Assyria, the rod of my anger, the club brandished by me in my fury! I sent him against a godless nation; I gave him commission against a people that provokes me, to pillage and to plunder freely and to stamp down like the mud in the streets. But he did not intend this, his heart did not plan it so. No, in his heart was to destroy, to go on cutting nations to pieces without limit.

For he has said:

‘By the strength of my own arm I have done this and by my own intelligence, for understanding is mine; I have pushed back the frontiers of peoples and plundered their treasures. I have brought their inhabitants down to the dust. As if they were a bird’s nest, my hand has seized the riches of the peoples. As people pick up deserted eggs I have picked up the whole earth, with not a wing fluttering, not a beak opening, not a chirp.’

Does the axe claim more credit than the man who wields it, or the saw more strength than the man who handles it? It would be like the cudgel controlling the man who raises it, or the club moving what is not made of wood! And so the Lord of Hosts is going to send a wasting sickness on his stout warriors; beneath his plenty, a burning will burn like a consuming fire.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 93(94):5-10,14-15

R/ The Lord will not abandon his people.

They crush your people, Lord,    they afflict the ones you have chosen They kill the widow and the stranger    and murder the fatherless child.

R/ The Lord will not abandon his people.

And they say: ‘The Lord does not see;    the God of Jacob pays no heed.’ Mark this, most senseless of people;    fools, when will you understand?

R/ The Lord will not abandon his people.

Can he who made the ear, not hear?    Can he who formed the eye, not see? Will he who trains nations not punish?    Will he who teaches men, not have knowledge?

R/ The Lord will not abandon his people.

The Lord will not abandon his people    nor forsake those who are his own; for judgement shall again be just    and all true hearts shall uphold it.

R/ The Lord will not abandon his people.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 11:25-27

You have hidden these things from the wise and revealed them to little children.

Jesus exclaimed, ‘I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, just as no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saint Henry

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Micah 6:6-8

The Lord asks only this: to act justly, to love tenderly, to walk humbly.

‘With what gift shall I come into the Lord’s presence    and bow down before God on high? Shall I come with holocausts,    with calves one year old? Will he be pleased with rams by the thousand,    with libations of oil in torrents? Must I give my first-born for what I have done wrong,    the fruit of my body for my own sin?’

– What is good has been explained to you, man;    this is what the Lord asks of you: only this, to act justly,    to love tenderly    and to walk humbly with your God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 1:1-4,6

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord. or R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Happy indeed is the man    who follows not the counsel of the wicked; nor lingers in the way of sinners    nor sits in the company of scorners, but whose delight is the law of the Lord    and who ponders his law day and night.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord. or R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

He is like a tree that is planted    beside the flowing waters, that yields its fruit in due season    and whose leaves shall never fade;    and all that he does shall prosper.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord. or R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Not so are the wicked, not so! For they like winnowed chaff    shall be driven away by the wind: for the Lord guards the way of the just    but the way of the wicked leads to doom.

R/ His delight is the law of the Lord. or R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or R/ The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Gospel Acclamation

John 14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 7:21-27

The wise man built his house on a rock.

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘It is not those who say to me, “Lord, Lord,” who will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the person who does the will of my Father in heaven. When the day comes many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, cast out demons in your name, work many miracles in your name?” Then I shall tell them to their faces: I have never known you; away from me, you evil men!

   ‘Therefore, everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a sensible man who built his house on rock. Rain came down, floods rose, gales blew and hurled themselves against that house, and it did not fall: it was founded on rock. But everyone who listens to these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a stupid man who built his house on sand. Rain came down, floods rose, gales blew and struck that house, and it fell; and what a fall it had!’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[baby-impalas]

everything ever | jacob barber

pairing: jacob barber x reader

word count: 2806

warnings: swearing, angst, pining, unedited, probably some spelling errors, drinking, mentions of drugs.

-

normally, jacob would be a smiley mess watching you dance. you’re so carefree and in the moment when dancing he thinks it might be one of the only true releases you have. however, watching you dance up against your boyfriend (who isn’t him), doesn’t exactly bode the same. 

it breaks his heart, in fact. 

derek (or ‘little bitch’ as jacob refers to him in his mind and around sarah) has his hands on your waist and his mouth pressed against your neck. you’re swooning completely for whatever he’s whispering in your ear, smiling and giggling like you couldn’t be happier. 

until you look over and see jacob watching you, breaking out into a smile he swears could power the city. you immediately turn to derek and say something, giving him your drink to hold before running over to him and practically jumping into his arms for a hug. 

“haven’t seen you in forever,” you say into his ear. the music is loud, but he could pick your voice out of any crowd. 

“since friday. yesterday,” he chuckles, setting you down and smiling at you. your eyes are bright and so full of spirit. fuck he has it bad. 

“yeah but it always seems like a long time when I'm away from you,” you say, knocking his shoulder playfully with your fist. 

you have no idea, he thinks. 

about an hour later you guys are sitting on a couch, your head leaned against his shoulder with your nose in your phone as jacob observes the party scene in front of him. it’s some kid he doesn’t really know that threw the party for the fourth of july. everyone’s drunk off their ass and a few people are really feeling the holiday, chanting ‘u.s.a.’ a couple rooms over. in the corner, jacob spot a girl he knows to be named aubrey. she’s dancing with mike greyson, possibly the dumbest college freshman jacob’s ever met. he doesn’t even know how the kid got in, to be quite honest. jacob doesn’t understand why aubrey, who’s quite smart, would waste her time on someone like mike. same as he doesn’t understand why you would wast your time with someone like derek. 

jacob knows he isn’t exactly a catch. he’s decently attractive, but he does have a bit of an anger problem. it’s something he’s gotten better at controlling over the years, and something he would never even think about taking out on anyone. he knows now better than when he was younger that it’s his problem, and he has to deal with it on his own. death seemed better than even thinking about taking his anger on you, and that’s where he and derek differed, it seemed. 

derek definitely didn’t hit you (no way in hell would you stand for that), he’s just raised his voice at you one too many unnecessary times. you talked to jacob about what he said to you and how it made you feel. 

how he called you an ‘uptight bitch’ for not wanting to get high before class. 

he’s right I should loosen up a little, you’d said. 

how he called you stupid for asking a simple question about some homework. 

I really should pay attention more, you’d said. 

fuck that. you shouldn’t have to make excuses for your shitty boyfriend being an asshole to you just because he thinks he can. if jacob’s ever been confident in one thing about himself, it’s that he should be the one holding you in his arms and whispering sweet things in your ear. 

he glances down at you, seeing that you were texting derek. 

shithead. 

you: i wanna go

derek : i’m having fun tho

you: I'm tired

derek: you can go

you: derekkk

derek: what?

you: please?

derek: are u always gonna be so nagging?

“hey,” jacob says, nudging his shoulder. you look up to him and set your phone in your lap. “i'm gettin’ kinda tired. you wanna go?” 

you basically snort. “yes please,” you say. 

jacob stands and takes your hand in his to help you stand as well. you’re a bit wobbly and hold onto him for balance. and even in the sweaty crowd all jacob can smell is your sweet vanilla perfume. 

once outside, you say, “I don’t even know why I came. I hate these parties.” 

“me too.” 

“then why’d you come?” you ask with a bubbly laugh. 

“cause you did,” jacob answers truthfully. you pause for a moment, nearly making him trip. “you okay?” 

you’re watching him carefully, the same way he watches people when they’re doing something particularly interesting. 

“yeah,” you say a little late. “I have to tell you something.” 

jacob’s heart hammers in his chest, and he swears his legs go a little numb. but he plays it cool, asking, “what’s up?” 

you don’t respond right away, instead brushing his tousled hair away from his eyes. he remembers a couple weeks after you guys had met, you’d said he had some of the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen. and shit if that wasn’t fuel for his fire. 

“you’re so pretty, jake,” you say, seemingly just remembering that you thought that about him. “and so smart. god you are so smart and you don’t even have to try.” 

jacob feels his cheeks heat up and thanks anyone listening that it’s dark outside so you can’t see. he opts to look at some trees over your shoulder, knowing that staring into your twinkling eyes will only make it worse. but you place a hand on his cheek and turn his head back to you. 

being so close he swears he might pass out. 

“you’re everything to me,” you say. “you’re just everything there every was. do you know that?” 

he tilts his head slightly to the right as his eyebrows knit together.

“I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” he smiles a little and you smile right back, immediately falling into a fit of giggles. 

“I'm trying to be serious,” you say with a pout and shit you look so cute. he’d let you break his heart over and over and over if you wanted to. 

“be serious, then.” 

you take a deep breath for dramatic and comedic effect. 

“I, uh...” you’re staring into his eyes with a sudden intensity that nearly knocks him off his feat. he can practically see the gears turning in your head, though one seems to stop and suddenly that intensity is gone and you’re looking at the ground. “I'm tired.” 

maybe his heart aches just a little. 

“let’s get you home, then.” 

you don’t lean on him anymore, seemingly so balanced you may as well be sober. 

the drive home is mainly silent. the radio plays everybody wants to rule the world at a low volume, and you rest your head against he window the whole time. you really weren’t lying about being tired. 

when you arrive at your house, jacob helps you inside because it’s very hard for you to walk half asleep and intoxicated. he helps you into bed, removing your shoes and covering you up. then, because he can’t help himself, he brushes your messy hair back from your eyes, and suddenly you’re staring up at him in a way that has him panicking. because you’re looking at him the way sally looked at harry. 

“jake,” you say, your voice thick with sleep. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yn.” 

what’s one more impulsive romantic gesture? he kisses you on the head. 

“jake,” you say again. “want you to kiss me.” he almost doesn’t hear it, you’re so quiet. 

“what?” he murmurs, his heart picking up in his chest as he looks down at you. he’s still bent over, so when you sit up you’re only inches away from each other. 

“I want you to kiss me again,” your hand comes up from under the covers and you rest your index finger on your bottom lip. “here.”  

fuck. your cheeks are lit with a blush and your sparkling y/e/c eyes are boreing into his. you smell so good and he’s sure you taste like everything wonderful in the world. 

“no,” but you’re not his girlfriend. “you’re drunk.” you’re derek’s girlfriend. 

“doesn’t matter,” you say, grabbing his shirt and not breaking eye contact. 

“matters a lot,” he says, wishing he had the will power to remove your hand and just leave. but he doesn’t. because it’s you. you’re his first love and right now you’re looking at him like he carries the universe, the way he’s always wanted you to look at him. 

“not if I think about it sober, too,” you say. 

oh. 

“well-” what the fuck does he say? you still have a boyfriend, he can’t kiss you. he can’t kiss you. he can’t kiss you. your lips are alluring and your gaze is honest in love. but he can’t kiss you. 

he can’t. 

“please,” you say. and shit now you’re begging. “jacob, I need you to kiss me right now or I may explode.” 

fuck. he doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only logical thing. he shuts off his emotions. ever since he was a kid, jacob’s been very in charge of his feelings. he’s not sure it’s a good thing, but it’s a thing that comes in handy in moments like this. 

“get some sleep, yn,” he says, finally standing up and pulling himself out of the spell you seemed to have him in. 

he knew you were pouting without even looking at you, for you’d made a big huffy sort of sound that he knows you do when something doesn’t go your way. you make a noise like you’re about to speak, but nothing comes out. jacob smiles down at you, and you lay back down, looking very tired again. 

he walks out, making sure to turn your night light on and lock your front door. he seems okay. anyone looking at him would think he’s completely fine. but in the safety of his car, the switch for his emotions seems to turn back on, and he feels his breathing pick up like he might cry. but jacob doesn’t cry. he hasn’t since ben rifken. so he just sits and feels the anger begin to spread. 

why the fuck didn’t he kiss you? because you have a boyfriend. but he hates the son of a bitch and if you like him so much why would you try and kiss jacob? what’s the point of being a good guy if you always get hurt in the end? isn’t there a point where his own happiness should come first? 

jacob hits his steering wheel, so conflicted with what the right answer is he feels his head practically swimming like he might be drunk. he’s not drunk. he’s sober and in pain. but who wouldn’t be? you’re y/n y/l/n. you're a four leafed clover and probably the reason the earth orbits the sun. anyone who wouldn’t move mountains for you is a fucking idiot. 

jacob drives home and doesn’t think about anything anymore. sometimes thinking hurts too much. 

-

you text him the next morning and ask if you can come over. he says sure and makes breakfast for you guys. eggs, bacon, toast, the whole nine yards. he’s assuming you don’t remember what happened last night, but he’s sure you felt like shit this morning. 

you arrive and greet him with a smile and a hug. your hair’s pulled up into a bun and you’re wearing the sweater he gave you last year after a late night in the city. it used to be his own, but it looks so much cuter on you. 

“hey,” you say. “did you make breakfast? smells good.” 

he nods, ushering you into the kitchen where he’d already prepared two plates. you give him a sweet, adoring smile like you can’t believe what he’d done. 

“you’re so sweet,” you say, jutting your bottom lip out. 

everything seems to stop for a moment when he looks at you. it hits him then just how head over ass he is for you and how he’d do just about anything to make sure that gorgeous smile stays on your face forever. 

he shrugs, sitting down next to you. “just doin’ what my dad taught me.” 

andy was always drilling into jacob’s head that if you want to get a nice girl under your arm, chivalry is the key. 

“ah, yes, I'm sure andy barber was quite the catch in his day. still kind of is, actually.” 

jacob’s jaw drops. “you’re hitting on my dad? my married dad?”

you laugh, nearly choking on orange juice. “not hitting on, just complimenting the barber genes. obviously good looks run in the family,” you say, nudging his shoulder. 

jacob turns away so you won’t see him blush. he’s surprised things aren’t awkward between you two after last night. seems you really don’t remember what happened. 

“okay, but the y/l/n genes are clearly one of god’s favorites.” 

“aww, you think I'm pretty?” you say, turning to him after taking a bite of bacon and batting your eyelashes at him. 

“you’re ethereal,” he says, almost to himself, as he looks at you. 

suddenly the energy in the room shifts, and you’re not looking at him so playfully anymore. he tries to think of something to shrug it off, but nothing comes to mind. all he can think about is how pretty you are. and how kind, and loving. 

“why didn’t you kiss me last night?” you ask. 

fucking what?

“what? are you serious? you were drunk.” and I'm an idiot. 

“well I stand by what I said.” 

it’s silent as you watch him, waiting for a reaction. anyone looking at you might think you’re confident as hell right now, but really you’re practically begging inside that jacob doesn’t kick you out for crossing a line. 

“well you have a boyfriend,” he says almost spitefully. 

then you’re pulling out your phone and clicking some buttons, and jacob’s scared for a moment you may be deleting his number or something. but instead, you put the phone on speaker and begin calling someone. jacob doesn’t see who it is, only barely recognizes the voice of the little bitch on the other end of the line. 

“sup, babe?” derek says though the phone. 

“hey. i think we need to break up.” you’re picking at a loose strand of fabric on your jeans, seemingly not phased at all by the fact that you’re breaking up with your boyfriend. almost bored, even. 

“what? you’re serious?” 

“yup.” 

holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

“how come?” 

then you lock eyes with jacob, and his heart skips a beat. 

“I'm in love with someone else.” 

derek starts to say something, but you hang up on him. jacob almost laughs at the cold gesture, but he can’t, because next thing he knows you’re pressing your lips against his and he can’t do anything except kiss back and think, this is happening. I'm kissing yn. and she tastes so sweet, like orange juice. 

his hands are slipping from your cheeks to your arms to your waist because he can finally touch you. he can fucking finally feel your soft skin under his fingertips, and your lips against his own. it feels right, like you fit together in a way that’s bigger than either of you.

you pull away and look at him, gauging his reaction. as far as jacob’s concerned, you’re the only one who’s ever really been able to read him. you know exactly how he’s feeling and how to react to it. it impresses him more than anything else because he considers himself extremely hard to read. 

right now, though, he’s not hard to read at all. his eyes are twinkling with adoration and there’s a blush on his cheeks that’s even spreading to his neck. he’s dopey and so in love he can’t contain it. 

“you’re everything there ever was,” he says, repeating your drunken words from last night. you giggle and just holy fuck he can’t believe you love him. you.

“jacob-”

“I love you,” he says, moving his hand to your thigh. “always have.” 

that has you blushing and avoiding his gaze, and you look so goddamn cute. 

“I love you too,” you say, trying your best to look him in the eye. “I never loved derek. I just didn’t think you’d want me like that, so I tried to move on... long story short it didn’t work.” 

he laughs, though he’s in major disbelief that he wasn’t obnoxiously obvious with his feelings for you. he’s good at controlling how he appears to people, but loving you was something he could never really contain. 

and now, thank fuck, he doesn’t have to anymore. because you’re all his. 

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hard Times

Pairing: Maddy Perez (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Shortly after Nate leaves, Maddy calls the reader in panicked tears. She needed her best friend and she needed any comfort and kindness that anyone had to offer her.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of abuse and violence, mentions of guns and Nate Jacobs.

A/n: Hi yall, I'm going to avoid going into deep detail of how Nate acted while over at Maddy's just because it is deeply triggering, but I wanted to more so focus on the trauma that Maddy endured and how she, or anyone, can process something like that.

I never liked Maddy and Nates relationship. No one did but I specifically hated it ten times more than anyone else.

After years of being her best friend, seeing her in and out of his bed, crying, screaming, laughing; it made me sick. It made me physically ill to think of him and how he treated her so poorly. And she was by no means a saint. I knew things about her that I wish I didn't. But she was my best friend, who I love and have loved longer than Nate.

But I was almost positive that she would never feel the same way for me that I have for all these years that I've known her. She's kissed a few girls, even while dating Nate. She was open to the fact that sexuality was a spectrum and she wasn't ashamed of her sexuality and lack of label. Nate didn't like it though, his deeply homophobic ways were disgusted by her interest in women. It almost made her afraid to feel anything for women to begin with.

Apparently, Nate and I had a type though, the girl checking off everything on my list of things I like in women. She was strong and powerful, beautiful, intelligent, a smart-ass to be honest. But I would always know Maddy better than Nate did, and I loved to hold that over his head.

I knew that him and Cassie were together longer than Maddy did. I probably wasn't being the best friend while holding onto that massive piece of information and not telling her. I knew that she was going to go absolutely apeshit when she found out, killing both Cassie and Nate at the same time with no care in the world.

I certainly wasn't expecting it to be Rue who spilled the beans. And I certainly didn't expect it to be in front of Cassie and all of our friends. Maddy was furious, Kat and I holding her back as she lunged for the crying blonde. Everyone was shocked, even her mother. I couldn't get over the mix of betrayal, anger, and sadness that passed through her face all at once.

I held her in my arms that night for six hours while she cried and wailed. She was truly heartbroken, horrified that this even happened to her in the first place. She was Maddy fucking Perez and her boyfriend of god knows how many years cheated on her with her best friend. It seemed almost stupid to think about, like it was just some cruel joke being played on her.

I remember telling her that it wasn't her fault, that there was nothing she could've done to prevent this from happening. She already knew this piece of information, she was just caught up in what she was supposed to do now. They made a fool out of her and she wanted to get them back for it.

I knew she had something up her sleeve, I had no idea what. But I knew that she had dirt on the both of them that was dirty enough to put an end to all her mental pain and suffering. I was scared for the two of them if I'm gonna be honest. I knew that, at that point, she was homicidal.

That anger didn't last long though.

She seemed calm and collected after that, her brain wracking her thoughts to come up with something that would help her. I watched her as she bobbed up and down in the pool the next day, her brows pulled together as she stared off into the distance. It was almost scarier to see her so calm and collected.

Days went on, nothing to significant happening other than mine and Maddy's nightly facetimes. She liked to keep up on those since we were kids, wanting to see me every night no matter where she was. It was comforting to me, the thought of her staying up for me, waiting for me, just because she wanted to see me made my heart soar.

But tonight, she was nowhere to be found.

Once the clock hit nine o'clock I started to panic. She was typically never late, always calling me by eight at the latest. But even now as I stare at my phone, my eyes tearing up in anxiety, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to call her out of fear that she was busy or something, not wanting to be a burden. But I'm genuinely worried.

All of a sudden my phone lights up the dark room, Maddy's name flashing along the screen. I answer it immediately, noticing that it's not a facetime but a normal call. Raising the phone to my cheeks, I pout.

"I missed you, where were you?" I laugh with a small pout, falling back onto the bed as I listen to her sniffle. "Hey, babes, you okay?" I ask, my heart pounding in worry as she gasps.

"I'm on my way and I just need you to hold me and not ask shit, okay?" She asks in a cry, my lips parting gently as I nod.

"Uh, yeah, my door is open, honey. I'll be waiting." I whisper, frowning as she abruptly hangs up, my cheeks warming in panic. I quickly make an effort to tidy my room, not wanting to upset her with any of the clutter. I grab her favorite blanket of mine that she continues to steal and I quickly restock my snack basket in the kitchen.

By the time she arrives, I'm seated on my bed, Spongebob playing on the TV in hopes to make her laugh. I had no idea what she needed from me other than the fact that she was freaking out and needed comfort. I had a feeling she wasn't going to tell me what actually happened but just come here, looking for comfort.

My door opens slowly as she makes herself known, quiet sniffles leaving her nose as I glance over her. She looked tired, her heart practically in her hands as she falls onto the bed and into my lap. She wails loudly as I cart my fingers through her hair, my hands pulling the blanket over her shoulders.

"Maddy-"

"No! I can't talk about it." She cries, gripping onto me as I frown, my head bobbing in a silent nod. "Just fucking hold me and don't say anything." She orders and I obey, sliding down onto the bed to lay next to her. She tucks her face into the crook of my neck as she sobs, her hands fisting the blanket beneath us.

I didn't know what was wrong and I may never know but, all I knew is this is what she needed from me and I would always give her what she needed.

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

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets

Euphoria Taglist:@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel

Maddy Taglist: @themerchantfromre4 @maneatercore

[marvelouspeterparker]

all worth it

pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader

summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.

warnings: none, just fluff

notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh

so tom loves his job, obviously

he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more

but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career

there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot

and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews

now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun

but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast

so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day

but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit

you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya

some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different

you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello

you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to

your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it

when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself

‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding

‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’ 

they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat

when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away

you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work

you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more

tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing

when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt 

you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off

‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along

zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’

you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him

‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’

you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’

tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them

though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon

or so you thought, anyway

your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)

you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)

‘hi love, how are you?’ 

his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone

‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’

he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’

you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely

‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off 

you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking

but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?

you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen

the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried

it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom

surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside

and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one

as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face

but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar

‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused

‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)

without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it

‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’

you laughed and looked up at him

‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’

you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled

he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’ 

you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him

and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside

were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?

he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat

tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i

zendaya: yeah but we already knew that

tom: 😑

harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy

jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch

jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏

tom: thanks babe 😘

zendaya: i’m just gonna go––

tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing

not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text 

tom: nevermind she just texted me

tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up

maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are

you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind? 

and you––nevermind he responded immediately

tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number 

tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course

you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright

were you really about to facetime tom holland?

when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied

y/n: sure, i’d like that

he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered

when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly

‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly

your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face

‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’ 

when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked

‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile

‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’ 

soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing

‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’

‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’

and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever

after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it

‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’ 

you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’ 

you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again

you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you

‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’

you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’

‘even better than my movies?’

you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’

he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’

‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked

‘you know i will’ he smirked

by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change 

honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%

which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you

‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you 

‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’

he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview

once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work

‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’

‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’ 

he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’ 

you paused. of all times to flirt––

‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere

now the fans took notice of your bond with tom

they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars

there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––

‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’

and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not

you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you

i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing

it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up

you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said

‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly

he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’

you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’

‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’

[therealvinelle]

What was that? I kept screaming over and over while reading Lily Moffat and I couldn’t stop reading anyways. Like a trainwreck. You just can’t look away. But really what was that? It had plot. It made an absurd amount of sense and I might never admit to anyone ever that I read that and got it (screaming and laughing and almost crying at it). Well not unless they’re as deep in the muffinelle crazy. Just why? How? How does that work? How does your brain work?!!!

I’m not complaining. Just shook. I didn’t think I had it in me to be surprised after Ed/Jacob thing but I do. I still do.

Wow! I just don’t know what to say except that was an experience and can I get more of it? (I sound like an addict. Gods I am an addict.) Because totally absolutely loved it. It might make me insane and I might have nightmares of Yeltsin and Adult Lily but gods if it isn’t worth it.

It's... probably worth noting that the fic was written while I was sick with covid and fighting a deadline. If it reads like a fever dream it's because it is. Unbetaed to boot.

I do have an explanation for the fic, though, of sorts, if you want:

Lenin’s wish and this world explained

This world exists to make fun of Lenin.

Lenin was furious after Lily traveled back in time because it meant he was no longer his own person in the way he thought he was. She might not have had a choice, but she essentially created him, making him a marionette and not the autonomous main character he thought he was. Lenin wants for him, and not her, to be that main character.

Enter this world: Lily has been lobotomized and is a powerless shell of herself, completely dependent on him. Reality is in an incredibly fragile state, and in the end Lenin’s resident self gets to rewrite her life with himself as the red herring throughout it, solidifying his position as the one who creates Lily, and not the other way around.

Yeltsin is Lenin’s ambition to be greater than God. And he’s absolutely ridiculous for it, not a great man at all but an unhinged fool who isn’t even Tom Riddle, just as Lily isn’t even Lily.

This world is making merciless fun of Lenin’s hubris.

As Rabbit puts it, “I think you are a pathetic mortal with delusions of grandeur, and this world is the only world where those delusions could take material form,”

*

A few (but not all) Moffat references explained, in no particular order:

The Eleventh Doctor refers to Amy Pond as “legs”. It goes to follow that a spoof must have Tom refer to Lily as “breasts”.

The random sexual assault played for laughs is something that happens frequently in Moffat’s Who, and on two occasions with women who have idealized the Doctor since they were children and translate this to sexually assaulting him.

Lily’s quest being pointless is my passive aggressive stab at Moffat’s treatment of RTD’s companions, consistently giving his own shiny new (and sexy) companions the spotlight instead. Rose is sidelined for the prettier and classier Madame de Pompadour, Martha is off screen for almost the entire episode (I’ll caveat that the Doctor was too, but… he at least had a presence in the episode. Martha had cameos), while Donna spends an entire episode killing time while River Song is central character. Here, Lily is too young to be sexy and also not Yeltsin’s superior companion, and so she is sent off to do a pointless quest that will keep her out of the way.

Yeltsin having lost the essence of what made him Tom Riddle is me mocking regeneration, specifically, the Eleventh Doctor. After being a pacifist who loves humanity and life in all its forms for nine hundred years, he brainwashes all of mankind into killing unarmed aliens on sight. Among other highlights.

Adult Lily being randomly bi is referencing River Song (stated in an interview to be bi, this was never shown. She remained exclusively attracted to Moffat's SI the Doctor, at least for the three Moffat seasons that I watched) and Irene Adler (a lesbian woman whose true love in life is Sherlock Holmes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say her harem of sexy women were only there to titillate the viewer). Her saying “I’m quite the screamer” out of nowhere is a River Song quote.

Melody Pond AKA River Song being Amy’s daughter that she didn’t know she was pregnant with, as well as her time-travelling childhood friend sent to assassinate the Doctor in a ploy that proceeded to fail anticlimactically, is everything about Flower Vase.

The world being put back with no consequence and nobody (important) dying is the most Moffat thing I did in this entire fic.

The nonsensical talk about darkness was homage to Sherlock and Moriarty’s talk in the season 2 finale. And so many Eleventh Doctor speeches about being… dark. Darkety dark dark.

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

[spenciegoob]

The 4 Types of Manipulation

A/N: hey hey hey cuties... just thought I’d drop in to tell you I love you and Harry Styles at the Grammy’s, oh and Miley Cyrus in general. Okay that’s it.

Summary: Spencer has to interrogate an unsub, but she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Not fluff, but not angst... angsty fluff? fluffy angst?

Content Warning: mentions of murder, manipulation, mentions of sex in the form of flirting, mentions of drug use, mentions of emotional abuse

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.8K

____

Nobody dared to take a breath out of place, every profiler was packed into the room watching with careful eyes at the sobbing girl in the interrogation room through the glass. No one knew what their first step should be, but I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Winging it was not something anyone in the BAU enjoyed doing, each case needed a thought out plan.

But they’ve seen this unsub before, they know the profile, the history, they know her. So why was she crying so hard that the weight of her head became unbearable, leaving her only option to sob into the crooks of her elbows as best as she could with wrists cuffed to the table?

Nobody knew, except for Spencer Reid.

Emily was hesitant, as expected, to blindly send in one of the best agents she’s ever seen into the room that with each tear shed slowly morphed into a lion’s den. Reid deserved better, she knew that, especially since the last time they dealt with an unsub like this one, Spencer had to be so far out of the loop that the case almost broke him.

He put up a good fight though, and if the determination set in his eyes wasn’t enough to inform the unit chief that she was not winning this argument, his deviance to storm through the door, startling the young woman chained down definitely did.

Why was it always Spencer?

Tears:

“P-please, I didn’t do anything.” Those were the first words anyone’s heard her say since the arrest, even if they were separated by sniffles and choked out sobs. 

Spencer just stared down at her, not taking the risk to further entertain the stuttering girl with wet cheeks and tired eyes.

“I promise I’m not a murderer. You have to believe me, please.” That promise whispered so quietly made with unbreakable eye contact urged him to take a second to reevaluate the situation.

She was apprehended in place of Jacob Hughes, the man they had originally been looking for. There was a chance she wasn’t complicit, a chance she was innocent. Maybe Jacob placed a hair of hers at the latest crime scene because he knew they were closing in.

Or maybe she is just as sick as he is. 

“Prove it,” Spencer said, his tone loud and assertive, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t plan on fighting his demand anyway.

“I- I haven’t seen Jacob for days. He drugged those men, and did h-horrible things. Those poor men.” This struck a nerve, everybody could tell, even the one person in this interaction that wasn’t a profiler. 

Spencer’s shoulders tensed for a millisecond, but she saw it. She saw what her words were doing to him, after all, he used to be one of those poor men she felt so sorry for.

Another loud sob echoed off the concrete walls before she bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe he mur... did that to them. H-how could he?” Spencer watched as the young girl looked up to him like he held the answer to the million dollar question. He studied the way her eyes bounced around his face, looking for something, anything to relieve some confusion when it came to her fiancé.

“Jacob Hughes is what we call a vindictive narcissist and a sadist. He receives pleasure from hurting others, and in this case, drugging and torturing men because he feels he’s been wronged his whole life. The question, however, is why. I know you know, just like how I know you’re aware of his crimes.”

It was a blow so low it could’ve come from hell itself. Spencer regretted it immediately when he watched the way her whole body stiffened at the mention of her knowledge, but he had to be certain no matter the fallout.

“I-I still don’t understand. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone.” Denial, guilt and fear all jam packed into 3 little words that had his heart dangerously close to breaking. The sorrow in her eyes believable enough that Spencer left his standing position between the suspect and the door to sit directly across from her.

She watched his movements with careful eyes, only stealing glances from her peripherals before returning to her cuffed wrists.

“Maybe you’ve never seen him physically hurt anyone, but we know what he does to you.” It was the first and only time Spencer let any emotion, as fake as it was, show in his responses. How could he not try when the girl resumed her sobbing at the implication of her past deception from the man she loves? 

“You know nothing,” she whispered back, her tone laced with defensive anger.

“I know everything.” Was he challenging her?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Was she challenging him?

“You know what it means.” Yes, he was.

“Do I?” Yes, she was.

The two stared at each other for the entire tone shift in the stuffy interrogation room. The other profilers on the other side of the mirror had no knowledge of how thick the tension had just become because unlike Spencer, they weren’t standing in the middle of it.

Small sniffles were the only noise breaking through the quiet until suddenly, they just stopped.

“Ugh, fine! You win this round. My eyes are starting to hurt from all this goddamn crying. Do people actually cry this much when you arrest them?”

Spencer leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms to clearly convey just how unamused he was with the girl’s antics. She watched him intently, picking apart every move down to the muscle trying to search for any indicators that her little performance worked even a fraction of what she was hoping for.

And she got her wish in the form of the agent’s fingers tapping lightly at his sides under perfectly muscular, if she may add, arms, because any other movement would have been too obvious.

Spencer Reid was getting nervous, because the second her facade faded, he lost the upper hand. She just had to get him trapped in here.

“Oh come on. Not even a ‘good job’? I wasn’t expecting full blown applause, but some appreciation for that show would be nice.” Still, Spencer gave her nothing. He needed her to keep talking, and filling silence was a sure way to make certain she did just that.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, but first you have to admit that I had you fooled for a second there.”

Lies:

“No.” Unexpectedly, instead of getting frustrated with Spencer’s refusal to play along, she just smiled brighter. This was exciting to her, and it was getting on his nerves.

“What gave it away? Did I look to the left before I spoke or something?” Spencer kept his mouth shut. “Come on, what’s my tell? Enlighten me.”

She copied his movements as Spencer leaned over the cool, metal table slightly, eyes racking over her face, lingering on certain parts for longer than others.

“No.” At this, she huffed back in her seat, leaving the close proximity that would later be used as a secret tool against the doctor before he had the chance to catch on. 

“If you’re just going to shut down every single one of my proposals, then why am I here?”

“You’re here because you’re a suspect in a series of 7 murders in the past 5 weeks.” She perked up at his words, amusement dripping from her features.

“Finally, Doc has something more to say than just ‘no.’ Tell me, was that so hard?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Rolling her eyes would be giving ammo to the enemy, but the urge to do so was quite strong. In fact, she almost did until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the one way mirror.

“I’m serious when I say this,” she said, looking directly into Spencer’s eyes so he couldn’t accuse her of lying. “If you take the cuffs off, I’ll answer everything.”

“No.”

“Please! They’re seriously starting to hurt. I put 100% into that performance, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the-”

“Fine!” Spencer stood up carefully, not walking around the table until he was certain the girl wasn’t a flight risk, or worse. When he did finally make his way over, she sat completely still, not taking her eyes off where his fingers grazed hers as the handcuffs unlocked.

A breath of relief escaped her as she rubbed her wrists with the opposite hands, eventually feeling the blood fully return to all 10 fingers.

“Thank you.” It was so vulnerable and raw that it knocked Spencer back for a second. They locked eyes, and something deeper than he was ready for passed between them.

He didn’t know what it was, all he knew was that he hated it so much that he tore his eyes away immediately to return back to his original spot seated across from her.

“Answer me this-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Neither of them spoke for far too much time, and Spencer was growing more annoyed by the second.

“What?” It came out harsh, and mean, and downright cruel, but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh nothing, I just wasn’t going to answer anything. I really just wanted to fix my hair.” And, in being true to her words this time, she secured her hair into a messy bun using the elastic Spencer didn’t even realize was missing from his wrist.

“I’m putting the cuffs back on.”

“No wait,” she pleaded, halting Spencer’s move to get up. “They really did hurt, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“I don’t care.” He made his way over, forcefully grabbing both of her wrists before securing the handcuffs back on. Spencer only regretted his actions slightly when she winced at the metal now back to pressing into her skin.

“Yes you do. It’s your biggest flaw.” Instead of answering, Spencer just returned to his seat, leaning back with crossed arms. He didn’t need to listen to a psychopath tell him his flaws.

“You care too much,” she continued, not minding if he was listening or not. “It gets you hurt, other people hurt. I wish that wasn’t the case. You deserve better, Doc.”

Spencer didn’t engage, opting to gawk tiredly at the suspect, and watch the way her eyes flicker across his features, gauging for a reaction. She wasn’t done.

“Hey, okay, fine. I’m just messing with you,” she laughed, finally breaking her serious facade. “What? A girl can’t joke around while she’s being accused of murder?”

“Accused? Or caught?”

“Accused.” It was final, her tone immediately dropping to a fiery rage. Her defenses were up, and Spencer was never really good at playing on the offensive team.

This time, it was Spencer’s turn to analyze, watching the way the blood rushed to her cheeks with her rising anger level. How all of a sudden her eyes lost their playful glint, giving him the chance to fully see the soul buried deep in them. For a split second, she was completely unveiled right before his eyes.

Spencer, clearly not anticipating just how long the girl in front of him could hold her own, used his last bullet.

He placed the crime scene photos in front of her.

“You know who did this.” It wasn’t a question, he saw it in her eyes. Spencer watched the way they remained stoic even after looking at the bloody walls, and vacant eyes of the deceased.

“No.” Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Who are you protecting?” Her head shot up at his question, eyes flashing red before she blinked it away again. Subconsciously, she started to pick at her fingernails.

“No one.” It was a lie if he’s ever heard one. 

Fear:

“You’re lying. Who is it?” 

“I’m not lying.” She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Instead, she gave her undivided attention to her shaky hands confined to the table.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Enough! Who are you protecting?!” At this, Spencer stood up and slammed his hands against the table with a strong amount of force that she flinched hard enough to further irritate her wrists.

He felt awful, the bouncing back and forth between them should have given him enough indicators that she wasn’t lying out of spite. But he couldn’t back down, he had her cornered and her only way out was to tell the truth.

“No one.” She wouldn’t look at him, even as she whispered. “Please stop.”

Spencer truly believed that he had her in a bind, an inescapable one at that, but it wasn’t the truth. Oh no, what the profiler failed to realize was she had him where she needed him.

“I have no information to give you,” she whispered before tagging along. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time she apologized for something Spencer could have seen as an inconvenience.

He believed her, too.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” That was his form of an apology. Spencer wasn’t going to go any further with it, even if she was coerced into lying by whoever the true unsub is, she was still getting on his nerves.

Her hands were still shaking at this point, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Spencer just slumped back into his seat, settling into the silence between them until ultimately he was either called out of the room, or she gave him another indication that her game hasn’t ended.

A loud sigh bounced off the walls. “I don’t care that you yelled in my face. You think it’s the first time a man’s done that? You’re not special, Doctor.”

“I never said I was.” So the game carries on, but this time, she didn’t smile at his sarcastic response. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed a breath before continuing.

“You really want to be though, don't you?”

Lust:

She was pushing his buttons, trying so hard to dig under his skin till she was unremovable. She wanted Spencer to leave this room with her on his mind for the rest of his days.

She was close too.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer deadpanned, trying to keep a cool tone. If he continued to hand her the ammunition she needed, he would be left defenseless.

“Oh come on, loosen up. I was just joking.”  A smirk grew across her features, a thought crossing her eyes. One Spencer knew would not be in favor of his win tonight. “I could help you with that, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He did. Spencer wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the woman sitting across the table wasn’t extremely attractive; she was. He just would never admit it aloud.

“I have a feeling you like to get rough, don’t you, Doctor?” She asked, sitting up and crossing her legs. The stare shared between the two of them was a mix between passion and anger, meeting in the middle to create a new kind of emotion.

“Is this fun for you?” She left out bait, and Spencer was stupid enough to fall for it. Emily once said that a pretty face slashed his IQ in half.

He couldn’t help but agree.

“Undo these cuffs, and I’ll show you what fun is.” She was toying with him now, and they weren’t going to get anywhere, but Spencer couldn’t find it within himself to get up and leave. She had him by the...

“I’m going to get that confession.” It was like he was five years old again, arguing on the playground with the older kids about how their insults didn’t make sense.

“What’re you going to do, punish me?” She asked, the last words in a hushed whisper. When Spencer’s cheeks grew hotter, and his eyes darker, she knew she had him.

“You do like to get rough! My, my, Doctor, you're keeping me at the edge of my seat here.” She let out a boisterous laugh before really digging the knife deeper. “Is that why you kept the cuffs on?”

Before he could snap back, the door flew open and Emily stood there with a tablet in her hand. “You need to see this.”

Spencer got up to leave, thankful for the reprieve even if he did have to return to the interrogation after speaking with Emily. He almost made it to the door before a voice called out behind him.

“Wait!” She called after him, the cuffs rattled when she instinctively went to reach for Spencer. “Aren’t you going to answer my question, Doctor.”

Playing chess his whole life, Spencer had never once played a game where Checkmate presented itself unexpectedly. He was always at least three moves ahead in his mind, seeing the inevitable end before he even began his gameplay. There was a first for everything, because his last move suddenly arose.

“No.”

_____

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