#there's a fair bit that goes on behind the scenes and I feel bad for being unable to share it but I'm not really sure how I would go about

[fluffydeoxys]

making OCs is funny cus 1+ month down the line and you've developed/refined them to the point you look back and go they would not do that. or say that

[loganremade]

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[dearlenore]

AN ‘I FEEL’ STATEMENT. / S.REID / SUMMARY - Spencer and you interrogate a suspect

PAIRING: bau!reader x spencer reid / w/c: 1.7K / ???

a/n: guess who this is based on and win a cookie

Spencer didn’t even look up when you barged into the motel room.

“Don’t say it,” he said, flipping a page in the case file.

You froze in the doorway, still halfway through pulling off your FBI jacket. “Say what?”

“That the crime scene smelled like expired deli meat and failure.”

You made a face. “Okay, rude. That’s classic FBI fieldwork ambiance.”

He looked up and smirked. “You’re predictable.”

You tossed your jacket on the chair and flopped onto the bed beside him. “You like me because I’m predictable.”

“I love you in spite of it.”

You stuck your tongue out and stole the file from his hands. “Alright, Dr. Sass, what do we know?”

“Third victim, male, 30s, found in an alley behind a gas station that sells ‘hot dogs’ that may or may not be actual meat,” Spencer replied with a snarky tone , leaning back against the headboard. “Ligature marks, same positioning as the first two. Garcia’s running facial rec now.”

You flipped through the photos. “This guy looks like my ex.”

Spencer tilted his head. “Which one? Also…You dated a guy with a neck tattoo that says Loyalty Over Everything?”

“He had a motorcycle and a soft spot for cats. It was a phase…. And the tattoo said ‘I’m a dick’ in Chinese.”

“I sincerely hope your standards have risen.”

You gave him a smug look. “Please. I’m dating a literal genius with three PhDs. I upgraded.”

He hummed. “Four soon.”

“Whatever,” you said, nudging his arm. “You’re basically the FBI’s version of a trophy husband.”

He blinked. “Are you saying I’m your trophy husband?”

“Yeah. Except instead of a yacht I got… trauma and access to crime scenes. I guess?”

Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Romantic.”

You snickered. “That’s what they all say.”

For a while, you worked in comfortable silence, both reading over the files. The motel TV buzzed in the background, playing a rerun of some bad soap opera where the acting was worse than your last polygraph subject.

“So,” you said eventually, “you think this guy’s trying to make a point? The symmetry, the posing, the weird ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ energy of it all?”

Spencer looked thoughtful. “He’s definitely performing. But it’s subtle. Less drama, more… statement.”

“Like a TED Talk, but make it murder.”

“Exactly.”

You laughed. “I fucking hate Ted talks, people who talk for hours like that are so annoying.”

He glanced sideways at you. “Speak for yourself. I’m adorable.”

“You’re adorable in a ‘my girlfriend wants to kick my ass daily’ kind of way.”

“To be fair, you want to kick everyone’s ass. Some more sensually than others.”

“HEY! Me and Emily had a deal. Have you seen— actually don’t answer that I’d have to kill you.”

“I find you so oddly attractive.” He said, looking a bit perplexed by his own taste.

You bumped his shoulder gently. “You always say that like you’re surprised.”

Spencer gave you a soft look, the kind he saved for when the world got too heavy. “I’m not. You’re annoying and incredible.”

You grinned. “Aw. You’re such a sap when we’re surrounded by homicide photos. You should be more mindful of the dead,”

“Don’t ruin it.”

He leaned in to kiss you, brief and warm. Then he stole the case file back like the nerd he was.

“Fine,” you said, standing up and stretching. “I’ll go see if Morgan found anything useful, or if he’s just flirting with the local deputy again.”

“Tell him if she has a cowboy hat, he has my blessing.”

You grabbed your jacket, pausing at the door. “If I get shot, tell the team I died being hotter than all of them.”

Spencer looked up with a totally deadpan expression and whistled. “That goes without saying.”

You blew him a kiss and shut the door behind you, already drafting what you’d say to Morgan when you saw him.

Eventually , you’d caught the guy.

The suspect sat cuffed to the table, arms crossed, expression somewhere between cocky and confused. He’d asked for a lawyer three times. The team knew it. So did you. But now he was suddenly cooperative—and you had a feeling that had less to do with his conscience and more to do with the fact that Morgan had promised he’d be “dealing with Dr. Reid next.”

What he didn’t know?

He was getting both of you.

You stepped into the interrogation room, Spencer behind you, both of you in sync like you were about to perform a synchronized FBI ballet—but with more psychological warfare.

Outside the one-way glass, Morgan muttered, “This’ll be interesting.”

Inside the room, you dropped into the chair across from the suspect and offered a sugary smile.

“Hi, Marcus. Love the scowl. Very tough guy who definitely has never cried in a 90s Honda civic. Or was it a Toyota?”

Spencer sat beside you, calm and collected, opening the file in front of him like he was about to politely destroy a man’s entire worldview.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “So they sent the nerd and the girlfriend?”

You smiled wider. “Aw. You think I’m just the girlfriend. That’s cute.”

Spencer didn’t look up. “Statistically, assuming a woman is less competent in a professional setting increases the likelihood of public humiliation by seventy-three percent. But don’t worry, we’ll keep it between us.”

“For real? You just know that?” The suspect hissed.

“No asshole, I made it up…” Spencer mumbled, still looking at the file and reading it closely.

You slid the photo across the table—victim number two. “Let’s talk about this guy. You were seen outside his apartment the night he was killed. Coincidence, or did ya get the first time murder jitters?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

Spencer’s voice was deceptively light. “We didn’t say you did. You said that. Interesting.”

You leaned in, resting your chin on your hand. “Also interesting? That your fingerprints were on the door handle, and the doormat has your boot tread on it. You’re either involved or you’re just deeply nosy.”

Marcus shrugged. “Maybe I was there. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, honey,” you said, voice syrupy-sweet. “People like you never do things for no reason. You can’t even microwave instant soup without making it about your masculinity.”

Spencer coughed like he was covering a laugh.

“Also if you’re microwaving soup shame on you. Put it in a damn pot on the stove like the rest of us.” You groaned, knowing damn well you did it yesterday.

“Look,” Marcus said, sitting up straighter. “I don’t have to say anything to you.”

You looked around the room , faux confusion on your face. He literally asked for you?

Spencer tapped the table twice. “Totally fair. You’re exercising your rights. But just to clarify, you’re not denying you were there. So if we subpoena your phone, we’re not going to be shocked by GPS data, right?”

You leaned toward Spencer and whispered loudly, “Is this the part where we pretend we don’t already have that?”

He nodded seriously. “Yes, for dramatic effect.”

Marcus shifted. “You’re bluffing.”

“Buddy,” you said, leaning back. “The FBI does two things really well: crush dreams and ruin lives. And my boyfriend here’s got a PhD in both.”

Spencer added, “Technically only one, but I did minor in destroying egos.”

“Oh for real? That’s fine I have a masters in being better than most people and humbling men. I think that’ll suffice.” You replied.

Outside the glass, JJ blinked. “Are they… flirting? In the middle of an interrogation?”

Hotch muttered, “I think it’s working?”

Back inside, the suspect was starting to sweat, his earlier confidence deflating like a balloon at a sad birthday party.

You pulled out another photo—this time of Marcus’s ex, who had filed a restraining order last year. You dropped it gently on the table.

Spencer’s voice was quiet. “She’s scared of you.”

“And she was like 16.”

Marcus looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor as Spencer flipped to the next page in the file.

“Her name was Emily,” he said calmly, tapping the paper. “She filed for a restraining order at sixteen. Updated it again when she turned seventeen.”

Marcus scoffed. “She was—she acted older than she was.”

You blinked. Spencer’s jaw twitched.

“Oh wow,” you said, leaning forward. “Do you have an I feel statement about that?”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, like—‘I feel like I want to date children’?”

You nodded thoughtfully. “That’s the vibe I’m getting too. Really leaning into the predator energy.”

“I’m not a predator,” Marcus snapped, defensive now, angry. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Spencer arched a brow. “We literally read your search history.”

You added, “And the restraining order. And the texts. And your very creative Reddit username.”

“Subtle wasn’t your strong suit,” Spencer muttered.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms. “So here’s what we do know about you, Marcus: you’re insecure, violent when women say no, and very interested in people who are still in Algebra II. That about cover it?”

He opened his mouth—then shut it again.

“That’s what I thought,” you said sweetly, before glancing over at Spencer with a grin. “See? We’re so good at this.”

He smiled back. “Terrifyingly good.”

“You think this is funny?” Marcus snapped, finally rattled. “This little good cop, bad cop thing?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good cop? You sweet summer child.”

“We’re not good cop, bad cop,” Spencer added helpfully. “We’re bad cop, worse cop.”

“I’m worse,” you chimed in. “Obviously.”

Spencer nodded. “That tracks.”

Marcus was silent, jaw tense.

You leaned in again, tone shifting. “Look. You talk to us, you get some control back. You don’t, and we throw this entire file at the prosecutor and let them tear you apart. Your call.”

Spencer added, “Statistically, cooperating suspects receive lighter sentences. Not that you seem like a man who cares about consequences, given your stunning history of rage texting and unpaid parking tickets… and dating children.”

You smiled. “Seriously, ten tickets? What are you, allergic to parallel parking?”

Marcus stared at the table, finally cracking.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he muttered.

You and Spencer exchanged a glance.

“Okay,” you said, sitting back. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

[inseobts]

Borrowed Hearts - pt.2

Trafalgar Law × Fem!Reader

part 1 - part 3 (end)

You attack the Heart Pirates with your crew, but it ends up backfiring on you, so you end up helping Law and the others in Wano.

Reader's powers: inspired by Monoma's powers (bnha). Basically you can borrow/copy other people's powers.

Words Count: 3.8k

A/N: Part 3 is the last part and it will be a bit longer.

Tags: could contain wano arc spoilers, enemies to lovers, fight scenes, humor, awkward powers, bikering, fluff building

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The battle rages around you.

Wano is already a war zone, and the sounds of clashing metal, shouting, and explosions fill the air.

Law fights nearby, his crew scattered, each taking on a different enemy. You’re right beside him, ready to prove your worth, except you’re not entirely interested in fighting fair.

You turn to watch around and your eyes spot Kid.

His massive metal powers are a thing of beauty. He can pull metal from the ground and control it like it’s part of his body, reshaping it into weapons.

You’ve seen him use it, and you want that so so bad, you feel the need to copy it now.

You give a sly grin.

“Hey, Captain,” you say, tapping Law on the arm, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before he can stop you, you dart toward Kid, who is too busy throwing around chunks of metal to notice you.

You run up and slap your hand right onto his shoulder.

Instantly, you feel the buzz of energy flowing into you. Kid’s powers flood into you. You grin wide.

You have them now. The metal parts of the battlefield start to move at your command.

Kid turns around, eyes wide with surprise.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he yells, but it’s already too late.

With a snap of your fingers, the metal under your feet rises, twisting like a snake. You throw it toward his crew fight zone, using his powers to attack their enemies.

The battlefield is suddenly chaos.

“What the hell is going on?!” Law shouts from behind you.

You just laugh “I got Kid’s powers for a bit! Look!”

You make the metal do your bidding, launching giant shards into the air, creating a metal barrier that blocks incoming attacks.

Everyone stops fighting for a second, staring at the crazy display of power.

Kid, who is standing nearby, looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

“ENOUGH!” Kid screams “THAT’S MY—!”

You flick your wrist, and a huge pile of metal flings toward his face.

“Catch me if you can!” you taunt, laughing.

Law’s voice suddenly rings out, a sharp command “STOP!”

You freeze.

But not because you’ve stopped using the powers.

It’s because you feel Law’s glare like a laser.

He walks over, clearly exasperated but not angry. His face is a mixture of exhaustion and amusement.

“You can’t just cause chaos like that.” he says, voice low.

You grin, hands still manipulating the metal “Why not? It’s fun.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re not in control of the power for long enough to make it right. And you're distracting everyone when we actually need to focus.”

You pout but then step back slightly, looking up at him “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. But admit it, that was cool.”

Law just stares at you, clearly debating whether to yell at you or kiss you, or at least that's what you hope for.

You both know he’s stuck between the mission and how much you’re driving him insane in the most entertaining way possible.

“You’re impossible.” he mutters under his breath.

Luffy, who has been watching the whole thing from a distance, now walks up with a huge grin on his face “You’re like a super villain! I want to do that!”

You roll your eyes and tap his shoulder “You can’t do that. Sorry, Luffy.”

Luffy laughs, “Aw man, that sucks.”

Meanwhile, Sanji is just standing there, completely in awe of you “That’s so hot…”

You wink at him, “You like that, huh, blondie?”

Sanji goes red. “I—uh, uh, yeah… totally!”

Kid groans, rubbing his face “This is the worst team-up ever.”

“Too bad,” you say, rolling your eyes “You’re aaaaall stuck with me.”

Law shoots you a look that says, We’re both going to die here.

And for a moment, you almost feel like you might be the one to take them all down, not with strength, but with sheer chaotic energy.

“Let’s finish this fight already,” Law says, turning toward the enemies ahead “Before she really messes everything up.”

You just laugh, still twisting metal in the air “You know I’m going to cause more chaos before this is over.”

Law doesn’t even try to argue.

The battle with Big Mom is in full swing. Her sheer size and strength are overwhelming, and every swing of her massive sword sends shockwaves through the battlefield. Law and Kid are both fighting hard, but it’s clear that they can’t take her down alone.

You stand next to Law, adrenaline surging through you. He’s using his powers to control the battlefield, his “Room” expanding around him, giving him control of the area. You’ve been using your powers to back him up, but you know you can do more. You’ve been holding back intentionally.

Now’s the time to show him.

“Room!” Law calls, his sphere expanding with a flash of blue energy.

You step forward and touch his hand.

“Room.” you say, your sphere growing to expand his.

His eyes widen, clearly surprised “What the hell…?”

You hold up your hand, your grin widening “We can do the attack together, you know. It’ll be stronger that way.”

Law stares at you for a moment, confused and still unsure of what’s happening. But before he can protest, you both move in perfect unison.

You both reach out at the same time, manipulating the battlefield around Big Mom. Her giant sword comes down in a wild swing, but you’re already ahead of her. You swap the position of her sword with a chunk of rock, catching her off guard. The huge weapon slams into the ground, sending a shockwave through the area.

Law moves in quickly, his eyes narrowing as he forms a deadly attack “Tact!”

With your power working in tandem with his, you bring metal and debris together, forming a massive, swirling mass. The two of you manipulate it with ease, throwing it toward Big Mom with a combined force that makes the ground tremble.

Big Mom stumbles back, clearly thrown off by the attack. She roars in fury, but she’s slower now, her footing unstable.

As the dust settles, you turn to Law, your chest heaving from the effort. You can see the surprise in his eyes as he realizes what you’ve done.

“You… you could do that?” His voice is a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You shrug casually, keeping your smirk in place “I didn’t trust you enough to tell you my secret weapon.”

Law glares at you, trying to hide the relief in his face “You should’ve told me you could do that! We could’ve been using it the whole time!”

You laugh, crossing your arms “Where’s the fun in that, Captain? You know I like keeping you on your toes.”

His expression softens, but only a little “You’re a pain.”

You wink at him “But you love it.”

The two of you turn your attention back to Big Mom, who is starting to recover from the attack. Law’s face hardens again as he steps forward.

“Let’s finish this.” he says, his voice serious once more.

You nod, stepping into position beside him. You both extend your hands, combining your Rooms once again, your powers mirroring each other perfectly. The air around you crackles with energy.

Big Mom charges at you, but she’s still weak from the last attack. You and Law manipulate the battlefield with effortless precision, pushing her back step by step.

Law calls out, “Shambles!” and you follow with a grin, using the same attack to swap her position with a piece of the terrain.

The shockwave knocks Big Mom off her feet, and she crashes into the ground with a loud thud.

For a moment, the battlefield goes quiet.

You look over at Law, both of you breathing hard from the effort. His expression is a mix of exhaustion and awe.

“That,” he says, voice steady, “was insane.”

You give him a teasing smile “I did say we’d be stronger together.”

Law finally cracks a small smile, though it’s short-lived. He crosses his arms, looking at you seriously “Next time, tell me about these abilities. I don’t like being surprised in the middle of a fight.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face “I’m just keeping things interesting, Captain.”

The two of you turn your focus back to Big Mom, who is struggling to get back to her feet. You both know the battle isn’t over, but you’re more than ready to finish it, with a little help from each other.

The battle for Wano is over. The scars of the war are still fresh, but the island is ready to celebrate its hard-won victory. Music fills the air, and the streets are alive with laughter and cheers. It’s a rare moment of peace after the chaos, and everyone is making the most of it.

You’re sitting on a low wall, a bottle of sake in hand, with Zoro beside you. The swordsman’s usually stoic expression is more relaxed tonight, the weight of the world temporarily lifted off his shoulders. It’s a rare sight, and you’re enjoying the change in atmosphere.

“So, you and Law, huh?” Zoro says, taking a swig from his own bottle, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You raise an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your drink “What about us?”

Zoro shrugs, looking up at the sky, his sword resting beside him “I don’t know, just seems like there’s something going on there.”

You chuckle, a sly smile forming on your lips “What, are you playing matchmaker now?”

He glances over at you “Not playing anything. Just curious. You two are always at each other’s throats, but there’s something there. I can tell.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head “Well, maybe you’re right. But I’m not exactly sure he feels the same way.”

Zoro snorts, clearly not convinced “You never know. He’s a weird one, that one. But… he’s got his own way of showing things. And trust me, I know.”

You glance over at him, intrigued “Oh? You speaking from experience?”

Zoro meets your gaze, his expression unreadable “Maybe. Maybe not.”

You laugh again, leaning back against the stone wall “Well, if we’re being honest, I’m still figuring him out myself. He’s complicated.”

Just as you take another sip from your bottle, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“You shouldn’t be drinking.” Law says, his tone as serious as always. He’s standing a little ways off, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed.

You turn to look at him, not missing a beat “What? You here to lecture me too, Captain?”

He steps closer, clearly concerned, his eyes flickering to the bottle in your hand “Chopper told me you could barely open your eyes after the fight. You’re not fully recovered to be drinking like that.”

You wave him off, a carefree smile on your face “I’m fine now, Captain. Chopper cured me while you were out cold. You know, when I use my powers too much, my body just collapses, but I’m all good now.”

Law’s expression softens just a bit, though his usual sternness lingers “I’m still not sure you should be drinking. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

You laugh, raising the bottle slightly “Come on, it’s just one drink. No need to act like a worried parent. Besides, it’s a celebration, right?”

Zoro, who’s been silently watching the exchange, grins “Law’s just jealous because I'm getting more attention than him.”

Law shoots Zoro a glare, but Zoro doesn’t even flinch. You can tell the swordsman is enjoying this little back-and-forth. Law looks back at you, his expression hardening.

“I’m not jealous,” Law mutters, though the slight irritation in his voice says otherwise “I just don’t want you pushing yourself too far again.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warm feeling settling in your chest “You worry too much. I can handle myself.”

“You really are stubborn.” Law replies, his voice still carrying that familiar edge. But there’s something more… almost fond in the way he says it.

You glance at him, smirking “Well, I guess I did learn from the best.”

Law’s eyes flash with surprise, but he doesn’t have time to respond before Zoro breaks in.

“Alright, enough of the lovey-dovey talk. You two are giving me a headache.” Zoro chuckles, taking another swig of sake “I’m going to find something stronger.”

You and Law both glare at Zoro, but it’s clear that Zoro’s enjoying the moment.

Law sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn between wanting to make sure you’re okay and not wanting to give you too much attention.

“Just… be careful,” he mutters, turning to leave “I don’t want to have to drag you to Chopper again.”

You grin as he walks off, watching his retreating back “You say that like you don’t enjoy being my personal doctor.”

Law doesn’t respond, but you notice his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you swear you see a flicker of something soft in his expression before he disappears into the crowd.

Zoro is back fast, with mote drinks and looks at you with a raised eyebrow “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, huh?”

You chuckle, leaning back against the wall, finishing your drink “I wouldn’t say that. But I think he’s starting to care.”

Zoro shrugs, a grin spreading across his face “Don’t screw it up, then.”

You smirk, tossing your empty bottle aside “I don’t plan on it.”

The celebration continues deep into the night. Lanterns float into the sky, music echoes from the city, and laughter carries on the wind. Everyone’s celebrating, everyone but you.

You slip away from the noise, sake still warm in your system, and find a quiet spot on a grassy hill overlooking the town. You sit down, pulling your knees to your chest, letting the cool breeze calm your racing heart.

You hear footsteps behind you. You don’t even have to look to know who it is.

Law.

“You run off alone now?” he asks, sitting down beside you without waiting for an invitation.

You shrug, staring up at the star-filled sky “Only when I’m thinking too much.”

Law leans back on his hands, his sword laid across his lap. He glances at you sideways, waiting for you to continue. You stay silent for a moment, then take a deep breath.

“You want to know why I act like an idiot sometimes?” you say, voice low.

Law doesn’t answer immediately. He just nods once, his gaze never leaving you.

You smile bitterly “Because… it’s easier to be the villain everyone thinks I am.”

He frowns slightly, confused “Villain?”

You laugh quietly, but it sounds more broken than amused “Yeah. I mean, think about it. My powers... stealing other people’s abilities? Who wouldn’t be scared of me?”

Law’s brow furrows “You’re not a villain.”

You shake your head “Maybe not to you. But to most people? I am. Always have been. Ever since I ate the devil fruit when I was just a kid.”

You glance over at him, seeing the faint surprise in his eyes. You don’t give him time to interrupt.

“I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just… touched people and suddenly they lost their powers. For less minutes at first, but it was enough. Enough to scare them. Enough to make them stay away.” You pause, voice dropping lower “I grew up alone because of that.”

Law stays silent, but you can feel the intensity of his attention on you. It makes it a little easier to keep talking.

“My crew… they’re different, but not that different.” you continue, smiling softly now “They’re all people without powers. No devil fruits. Nothing for me to steal. That's why they’re not afraid of me and just look up at me.”

You turn to look at him fully now, eyes shining a little under the stars.

“I’m glad I was part of this alliance,” you say honestly “None of you… none of you looked scared of me. Annoyed? Of course. But not scared. Not even once.”

Law’s expression softens. His eyes are sharp, like always, but there’s something new in them, something quieter, more understanding.

After a long moment, he says, “You’re stronger than most people I’ve met.” His voice is steady, no teasing or sarcasm “It’s not your powers that scare them. It’s their own weakness. Because all they can do is rely on their Devil Fruits' abilities.”

You stare at him, something twisting painfully and happily in your chest, and then he does something you don’t expect.

He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, more serious than you’ve ever heard it.

“You should join my crew.”

Your breath catches.

For a moment, you don’t speak. You just blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking. But Law doesn’t joke. Not about this.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods “I am. Your powers, your strength, your spirit… you’d be an asset. And…” He hesitates, and for the first time, you see him a little unsure “I’d trust you to watch my back.”

You feel your heart swell and ache at the same time. You laugh softly, bittersweet, and shake your head.

“I can’t,” you say gently “I have my crew. I’m their captain too. I can’t just… leave them behind.”

Law looks away for a moment, as if trying to hide the flicker of disappointment on his face.

You chew on your lip, then, unable to resist, you add, “No matter how handsome you are.”

Law stiffens slightly, glancing back at you sharply.

You smirk at him, trying to lighten the mood, but your chest still feels tight.

He huffs out a soft breath, almost a laugh, but covers it quickly by adjusting his hat.

“Idiot.” he mutters under his breath.

You grin wider, feeling a little better now.

“But,” you add, softer, “doesn’t mean we can’t stay allies.”

Law looks at you again, this time with a small, rare smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” he says quietly “I’d like that.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, staring out at the stars in comfortable silence, the noise of the party a distant hum behind you.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

The music in the village square gets louder, more lively. People are laughing, spinning each other around, stomping their feet in wild, messy dances. The whole of Wano is alive with celebration.

You glance at Law, who’s still sitting next to you under the stars, watching everything with his usual detached, serious stare.

An idea sparks in your mind.

You stand up suddenly, brushing off your pants “Come on, Trafalgar.”

He looks up at you lazily “Come on what?”

You grin and hold out your hand “Dance with me.”

Law stares at you like you just suggested jumping off a cliff “No.”

“Yes,” you insist brightly, grabbing his wrist before he can stop you “You said you trusted me to watch your back. So trust me now.”

“I trusted you in battle. Not—” he struggles, trying to tug his hand free without making a scene, “—not for this kind of humiliation.”

You laugh and start pulling him toward the square anyway. Surprisingly, he lets you drag him a few steps.

“I hate you.” Law mutters under his breath, following you with the grace of a man being led to execution.

You spin around him playfully, dancing on your own since he’s stiff as a board. Everyone starts staring.

Your hands brush his shoulders, your arms lift his into a stiff, awkward position, and you twirl under his arm even though he doesn’t even move it. It’s like dancing with a grumpy statue, but you’re glowing, smiling, spinning like you’re actually dancing with the king of the world.

The crowd is shocked. Not because you’re dancing but because Law, grim, serious, moody Law, is just… letting you do it. Not moving, not smiling but especially not fighting you off.

Whispers float around:

“Is that Trafalgar Law??”

“He’s just… standing there??”

“Captain??”

“Since when does he let people touch him for fun?!”

At some point Sanji appears from the crowd, heart practically in his eyes.

“May I please have this dance, beautiful lady?” Sanji says dramatically, bowing low and offering his hand

“And let the man go free if he doesn’t know how to move.”

You don’t even hesitate. You laugh and shake your head, grabbing Law’s arm tighter like he might actually escape.

“No thanks!” you chirp, spinning once around Law again, dragging his arm with you “This is my last dance with my husband! I’m not giving him up!”

Sanji freezes, looking like someone just stabbed him.

“HUH?! H-H-Husband???” he sputters, almost falling over.

The people around gasp and murmur.

Even Law’s crew, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, are standing at the side gaping like fish.

Law sighs quietly, covering his face with his hand for a moment like he’s tired of life, but you see the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

“You’re not helping.” he mutters under his breath.

You just beam at him, clinging to his arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“My husband’s shy,” you say loudly to the crowd, as if explaining his total lack of movement “It’s okay, I love him anyway!”

Sanji actually falls to his knees in pure heartbreak. You swear you hear Zoro laughing somewhere in the distance.

You keep “dancing”, spinning and moving around Law as he stands there, shoulders stiff, ears just barely turning red.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel something heavy inside you lift, replaced by something warm, easy, and safe.

Maybe it’s the sake.

Maybe it’s Law letting you steal the spotlight.

Maybe it’s the fact that, even if you’re not really his wife, he still didn’t push you away.

But whatever it is… you think you’ll hold onto it a little longer.

The party roars louder as the night gets darker.

More sake spills. More people dance. Lanterns float high into the black sky like little stars.

You finally let go of Law, laughing breathlessly after the “dance” you forced him into, and flop down onto a bench near the edge of the square.

Law stays standing, arms crossed, watching the crowd with his usual tired, annoyed stare.

You notice, though, that he keeps glancing at you.

After a few minutes, he finally speaks, low enough only you can hear.

“Come with me.” Law says simply.

You blink, surprised “Where?”

“Somewhere quieter.” he mutters, already turning and walking off without waiting for your answer.

You hesitate only a second before following him.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

[10:02pm] - aphelios & sett

a/n; in which i make aphelios silly skrumblo than he already his. test run for writing league. but it's heartsteel phel so, it's probably gonna be fine. i loved watching the bloopers. it was so cute, i need more. they should make a small web series like how kpop groups have their small web series where they do random shit or vlog ugh. im totally gonna write that someday.

[ooc phel and sett????] [i threw in poly! settphel in here despite wanting to make it a solo phel fic]

aphelios is really bad at getting your attention normally.

which is fair. you and alune are busy being the limited staff for heartsteel. you help yone work the technicals [and filming] and alune is more of the social part of managing.

but since their debut was nearing closer and closer, you have been more occupied with your manager duties. kayn had been especially chaotic during filming, causing you and yone to attempt to fix everything that was broken by the others.

to summarize, it has been a very long week for heartsteel.

mostly for the quiet boy since he has not gotten some much-needed love and attention from his lover. he could've gone to sett for that love and attention, but the redhead offers more than enough of it. and also he took too many takes for his scene, and phel swears he can still hear the ringing in his ears from the bell.

he's been trying to get your attention now since it's been much less busy, but he hasn't had much luck.

poke.

poke. poke.

you feel cold fingers poke at your face as you rest on bed, completely exhausted. you don't really complain about the comforting hands that gently cup your face until you feel a familiar pair of lips on yours. aphelios watches your tired eyes open and squint at him before you give him a small smile. "hi phel.."

he can't bring himself to be mad at you from the lack of attention with how sweet you look. he can't help but sigh before settling right next to you on the bed, head resting on your chest and body curling up close to you for warmth. there's never much need for words when he's so endearingly expressive. his lips jutted out just a bit in a cute pout as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, a surefire sign of him wanting your attention. "where's sett?" you murmured, gently playing with phel's hair.

aphelios makes no sign of an answer, tugging the blankets to cover you and him better. he even goes as far to lay right on top of you, trapping you in his hold. "phel.." you whined, "i just wanted to know where he was."

the look in aphelios's eyes says everything you need to know, "i need attention."

you can only smile as you finally give him his needed attention. "okay, okay, i'll stop. but you know i just woke up from my nap. what am i gonna do?"

you get no response as expected as the silent man presses his face against your chest, not caring to even spare you another glance. "god, what am i gonna do with you?" you mutter fondly. "with you and sett.. wait until he starts getting all clingy too.." placing your hands on his cheeks, "absolutely insufferable." you joked, squishing his face.

"babe! i lost aphelios!" you're holding back your laugh as sett barges into your shared room. he reminds you of a sweet doberman who just loves their owner. "have you seen him-" aphelios shifts under the blankets, head peeking out to look at sett, annoyed. "oh. uh. hey phel." sett smiles sheepishly. "i forgot that you wanted to be with them today because they've been so busy."

you laugh, "don't be mad, phel." he sends you a look before burying himself under the sheets once again and clinging onto you. "at least let sett join. i haven't given him much attention either. especially after what happened with some of the props during filming." you sighed, remembering yone scolding to the boys and alune laughing behind the camera.

the blankets shift before the blue haired mute opens a side of the covers to let sett in. and ever the energetic and excitable boyfriend, he almost looks ready to dive straight onto you and aphelios. but he holds back, shifting around awkwardly as he moves onto the bed. he finally lets his excitement out, reaching around to hug both you and phel the best he can. "god, i missed this."

"it was only a week, big guy."

"longest week ever!" he groaned as you feel aphelios nod in agreement.

"you two are so dramatic." you slam a poro plushie against sett's and aphelios's head.

"you love it!"

[oraclepop]

how sunghoon and taesan view each other? people say they look alike lol. are they friends?

how sunghoon (ENHYPEN) and taesan (BOYNEXTDOOR) view each other tarot reading

(oh wow they actually do look similar)

how does sunghoon see taesan?

three of swords, eight of cups, three of cups

someone that’s hurt him in the past. maybe a kind of betrayal, or taesan said some harsh words. either way, it *actually* hurt sunghoon. like “dude, i thought you were cooler than that”. i feel like it could’ve been a joke or something that landed wrong, or maybe taesan was gossiping behind his back. i just feel like it wasn’t something super serious. regardless, sunghoon actually tried to be his friend, but something went awry, and sunghoon was hurt by it. he’s disappointed in what happened. sunghoon’s keeping his distance a bit now. a bit more withdrawn and guarded. still, though, he has to hang around him and socialise with him. so maybe, even though he’s deep down not trying to socialise with him on a deeper level anymore, he’s still going to act cordial around him. he’ll have to see him around and share a workplace with him, so, yeah.

how does taesan see sunghoon?

seven of swords, the emperor, the empress, justice

he sees sunghoon as a strategic person. maybe sunghoon could be a little sneaky, or not always show his cards. i feel like that’s just the kind of person sunghoon is though, like he strategises interactions cause he might be lowkey awkward and doesn’t know how else to do it. lol. like, those people that always come across as not being sincere, for whatever reason, even if they are. maybe taesan doesn’t trust him all the way. he does see sunghoon as someone strong and responsible. sunghoon has a lot of discipline and power, maybe even taesan sees sunghoon as someone that’s “above” him. but there’s a soft side to sunghoon in taesan’s eyes, something that’s hidden beneath the layers. taesan might feel warmth or like a ‘awww’ sort of feeling for sunghoon cause of this. in the end, though, he has a fair assessment of sunghoon. he feels like he’s being fair when it comes to how he sees sunghoon.

are they friends?

king of wands, knight of wands, the star reversed

it’s like they want to be friends. there is passion and energy there, especially coming from one person (probably taesan at this pont). there’s a strange tension though. like two battling personalities. you know that scene in mean girls when regina and cady are at the table, and regina goes “you know, you’re like really pretty” and cady responds “thank you” and regina goes, “so you agree? you think you’re really pretty?”. but…. bro version LOL. i feel like regina is taesan and sunghoon is cady 🫣. there’s this underlying feeling, but it’s very subtle. a superficial kinda friendship. someone might’ve wanted to be friends super bad, but now, it’s faded. like, if you’ve ever seen someone you wanted to be friends with so bad, and when you guys actually became friends, it flopped. a feeling of disillusionment…

[vyladerz]

So season 7 is a season that exists for sure.

Okay look, I believe on my first watch I was a bit too harsh on some aspects of season 7. On my last re-watch, I have gained a much better understanding of some (SOME, not all) of the character/plotlines decisions that were made. Now, this isn't the worst season ever made, there is still plenty to enjoy but it's a far cry from anything like seasons 1-5 and I fear that is becoming a theme for these latter seasons. I am getting a bit drained here but I refuse to be totally pessimistic about the next seasons. I won't be broken yet trust.

I've been holding my tongue for too long and I might just start rambling nonsense about the poor characterization/continuity this season. Though I'll try my best to make it comprehensible.

Starting 'The Girl Next Door' for the first time, I was so eager to dig my teeth into this episode because of the young Sam flashback scenes (I've mentioned being a sucker for flashback scenes before). I was fascinated with learning more about Sam's past with Amy, being that she's a monster and the whole philosophy that comes with it. Will she be redeemed of her sins? Where's the line for monsters? However, all my hopes and expectations for this episode were ripped away from me when I saw how the very last scene played out. (If you know the scene I'm talking about you deserve compensation in every form). After Sam comes clean about Amy to Dean and is reasonably able to trust her, Dean goes behind Sam's back and kills Amy IN FRONT OF HER KID!!! Not trusting Sam's judgement and killing Amy is fine, that's really not the issue I have here. Just cause I don't agree with these course of actions doesn't mean it's out of the realm of possibility for Dean. But it comes out of nowhere and it seems like sort of a regression for Dean's character. There's so many questions being raised in my mind and the show fails to give any logical answers to why Dean would behave this way so suddenly. Also what really cements this as such a wild scene to me is him murdering her in front of her child and what he says this him. "Have you ever killed anyone? Well if you do, I'll come back for you." NO! My king would never do this!! At least not in this context, not this far into the series, and not to Sam. Did all this progress with his brother mean nothing? This is something I'd expect from a hallucination or leviathan version of Dean that I've seen so far. Yes, I'm able to try to jump through hoops to rationalize his actions here but I still can't shake the feeling that this was completely out of character. This isn't the only moment that screams mischaracterization. It's throughout the whole season and it happens to Sam too. Sam and Dean's motives go back in forth from caring to not at all. The brothers are facing such terrifying grief and agony this season and it's a crime that there a very little scenes of them actually being there for each other emotionally. I get it, their whole thing is to keep things from each other to protect one another. How heartwarming! But they are literally standing right next to each other and it feels like they're a million miles apart. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, no, far from it. There have been moments that benefit from this that create great brotherly drama in the past. However, it's not utilized whatsoever here, it's just ignored really. When it comes to the conversation regarding Sam's weak mental state, losing Castiel, and mourning Bobby...well there's no conversation really. There's just this total disconnect here that goes as far as interfering with their hunting abilities. Yes they should have their fair loses and they are allowed to drag their feet on missions sometimes. Just not for almost the entire season. It felt like they were going through the motions for the most part. I need them to be emotionally invested within the story so I the viewer can be emotionally invested. Ugh, I miss how passionate they were about saving other people's lives and engaging with one another in a meaningful way.

On a positive note, I did enjoy the leviathans on my second watch and I didn't see that happening for me. On my first watch I think I just hated their association with this season in general. The black goo that represented the leviathans during the opening title screen kept reminding me that I was still stuck watching season 7. Which is such a shame cause I really missed out by being distracted by the other issues that plagued this season. The leviathan's attitude towards humans is actually really fascinating. They are able to see how unique humans are and appreciate them for their one of a kind abilities while also viewing them as lesser. Also George the unfortunate leviathan intern that was ready to eat his boss was a fun addition to diversifying the league of leviathans. Dick Roman was actually a pretty fun villain and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take him seriously but Bobby's death proved to me that this guy should be taken seriously as a threat. Oh yeah Bobby oh Bobby. I thought bringing him back as a ghost was a poor choice at first because I believe when characters like Bobby, who have made such a significant impact in a series, should (respectfully) stay dead. Then you don't have to worry about diminishing their death or cheapening their emotional moments. Except I love Bobby so much that I will be willing to throw all of that away. In a show like Supernatural it's been proven that no one truly stays gone (unless you're Jessica) even as figments or ghosts. Of course now his ghost form is gone but I wouldn't be surprised if he shows up as a hallucination or in a dream sequence later on in the show.

I have to end this review here but overall there's so many plot points that happen this season that I didn't get to mention here. Most of them either end way too early, go nowhere, or are straight up unnecessary. I'll watch an episode and see an exciting opportunity for character exploration and I'll instead be met with credits. Sadly I was very pleased to end this season. Hopefully after sometime this season will just be a funny silly memory that I can laugh about cause the show magically turns around and proves me wrong!!!

[supernaturallyliterate]

I’m rewatching Helluva Boss (yes, already) and I have thoughts:

Season 1 & 2 SPOILERS AHEAD

- Why does Blitz have a lemon tree in his office??

- Blitz has a sign behind his desk that says “Circus”. Possibly a flyer or a ticket from his old circus days??

- Blitz has a panic button for the following things: “More Coffee,” “soiled my pants,” “horny client,” “deranged client,” “client giving birth,” “ghost,” and “Stolas.” It makes me wonder why “soiled my pants” and “client giving birth” are on there. Are these common occurrences??? Also we learn later in Ghost Fuckers that most of Hell doesn’t believe ghosts exist. And it hasn’t been confirmed yet if they do. So that means Blitz had a panic button he’s probably never used, that likely came from his obsession with the show Ghost-Fuckers.

- Blitz has a few of his drawings on the wall in the scene where Loona is holding up the family photo for Moxxie to shoot. It’s two horses kissing (one is clearly a Blitz self-insert horse) and one is a drawing of Fizzarolli with an arrow shot through it.

- Moxxie imitates his dad when he’s talking about the situation in which murder would be okay— “maybe a deranged dad. *Moxxie’s Dad’s Mob Boss Voice* That’s understandable.” SO MUCH FORESHADOW.

- Millie says, “Guilty & innocent is not our business. Killing who we’re paid to is our business. Shoot the target.” And of course this comes back around

- “We could be a bit more selective is all,” Moxxie says about their clients. And in the finale of season 2, we start to see that maybe I.M.P. Will start being more selective.

- When the office catches on fire… Blitz yells at Moxxie but doesn’t have any fear or panic about the fact that it’s a fire. I was watching for any signs of ptsd for the fire but didn’t see any in this scene.

- OMG I JUST SAW BLITZ’S BILLBOARD ADD in the background of a scene. It reads, “Goat an asshole in the Living worlds!? Come to I am Pee!!!??! Make sure you put this sign on the rite side. Don’t fuck this up. Also payment may take a couple weeks because it cums in the Mail. - SPEECH TO TEXT - -Blitzo”. Oh my lord. Honey, no.

- Moxxie probably hesitated to kill the mom of the Murder Family because he was forced to kill his mom.

- Even before the Murder Famiky goes all, well, Murder Family, we see subtle signs of their… murderous tendencies in their decor: a lamp post made out of a human spine and pelvis, a kid’s face mounted to the wall, all the weapons in display, picture frames made out of bones.

- Why did Murder dad switch from a rifle to a glass bottle? Consistency error?

- Blitz 100% has a custom ringtone for Stolas, because he answers the call without checking it, and says before Stolas can talk, “Stolas, this is a really bad time.”

- Stolas calls Blitz by the nickname Blitzy for the first time

- and we get the full moon arrangement!! Stolas: “What if we worked out some kind of exchange? Favors for favors? Doesn’t that sound enticing?” B: “I’m too busy trying not to get fucked in my a.” S: “I’ll keep it simple. Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of passionate fornication. And… you get to keep it all the rest of the time. Sound fair, my little imp?” B: “Fine, whatever!” S: “Oh, Blitz, I’m so excited. I cannot wait to feel your slimy cock inside of me… *continues bleeped out foreplay sexy talk*”

- I noticed that when Blitz and Millie are set on fire by the Murder Mom Martha, Blitz says, “YOUR fire doesn’t really hurt us.” And it made me realize that red/orange fire must be “human fire” and green/white fire must be “hell fire,” which can hurt Imps and other demons

- Blitz pulls out a horse from his coat pocket to make sure it’s okay 🥺

- Moxxie being like, “I’m calling 911 so the earthly authorities will deal with you fairly and justly” and then they blow up the house.

[lesmisadaptationranking]

BBC Les Misérables: D-tier

I just. Don't like this one. Not as bad as 1998, but still bad.

I'm pretty sure they messed up the timeline at one point (iirc they had Cosette be born 1816 instead of 1815 which makes her relationship with Marius that little bit weirder. 17 and 22 was already only acceptable with Bauchschmerzen but 16 and 22 is... ehhhhhhhhh).

The scene of Fantine and the other grisettes peeing really didn't have to be in there. There are other settings in which they could've talked away from the guys. Why this?

There is some "tell don't show" exposition that really could've been done more subtily and more efficiently. One that especially stuck to my mind was Mme. Thénardier's relationship with Gavroche. There IS the scene where she tries to abandon him, but they're really not doing a lot to show she treats him worse than her daughters aside from the line "I have no motherly feelings for him" (THEN SHOW US. ONE MORE SCENE WOULD'VE SUFFICED. Showing an 8 year old being beat is fine but we draw the line at neglect???). She's also barely shown to spoil Azelma and Éponine. Baby Éponine and Azelma are also never shown to do... anything. They only ever sit at a table and laugh and sneer at Cosette and no one ever interacts with them. They feel more like furniture than characters.

Also Fantine is shown to basically neglect Cosette several times in favor of spending time with Tholomyès, making her leaving Cosette behind less impactful (in my opinion).

Also why did they make Baby Cosette say bitch? It's just not funny. And forcing her to leave behind her doll?!?!?!?!

The child actors are all super adorable tho.

Other irritating thing: Valjean firing Fantine. Also Valjean screaming at basically every woman he interacts with.

Les Amis consisting of 4 guys (including Marius) also annoyed me. It didn't feel like "organized group" but more like a group of frat boys going "Omg wouldn't it be, like, so fetch if revolution?". Also Grantaire actively playing a part in the insurrection goes against the point of his character because he's supposed to be a cynic not a guy who's on board but kinda nervous. (But hey. They died holding hands.)

Also also Éponine and Gavroche's deaths in this one were so ridiculous. Gavroche just. Jumping and hopping around in slow-mo was so silly and I tried to feel sad when he died but I couldn't take his death serious. And Éponine just emerging and jumping (and spinning in the air) out of nowhere the way she did looked so dumb. I had to pause when this happened because what the hell.

Also the way Javert jumps to his death. Why do they all have silly, jump-y deaths?

Additionally it's just so iffy that the only people of color are: the main antagonist (Javert), villain/scammer/thief characters (the Thénardiers), and a servant (Toussaint). To be fair, also the exceptions of Courfeyrac and Simplice, but it still feels off. I honestly wish there'd been more diverse casting that didn't fall into the categories of "villain" or "servant" (I know Gavroche isn't a villain character but he is a pick pocket). I guess they had good intentions but the execution was just. Ehhhhhh. (No hate against any of the actors tho, they did amazing despite the crappy script).

I also didn't really love neither Cosette's nor Valjean's characterisations at certain points. I can't put my finger on it but something just felt off.

All in all, not the worst in the world, but it would take a lot of convincing for me to watch it again.

[theladyofshalott1989]

Mum’s the Word 🤫 // Modern AU (No Magic) Sebastian Sallow x Male MC Short Story

Chapter 1: "What is this?"

Synopsis: Twenty-four hours after his long-term relationship goes up in smoke—just in time for his thirtieth birthday—Sebastian reluctantly tags along with his twin sister to a mysterious locale to, allegedly, secure himself a new love interest. Shenanigans ensue.

Or: How many pop culture references can one writer cram into a story? (Spoiler: far more than she’s willing to admit, even to herself.)

Relevant Tags: POV Sebastian Sallow, Modern AU, Crack Treated Seriously, Gay Panic, Bisexual Awakening, Humor, Sibling Bonding, Banter, Fluff, Pining, Sebastian Sallow Is Bad at Feelings, Also He Can't Dance, Zumba (yes, you read that right), Chris Hemsworth Appreciation, Chris Evans Slander

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Male MC (Damien Evans)

[ AO3 Link ]

Author's Note: Alexa, play "Fireball" by Pitbull. 🙃🙃🙃

"No wallowing in misery on our birthday," Anne said, her voice crackling through his mobile. Service had always been spotty in Sebastian's flat. Tonight was no exception. 

Anne rang mere minutes ago, rudely interrupting Sebastian's horror film marathon. He currently had the telly paused on the best celebrity Chris—Hemsworth, obviously —riding his dirt bike into an invisible wall, moments before plummeting to his death. Sebastian was quite chuffed with himself that he managed to pause on such a perfect scene, although he always felt a slight pang of disappointment in recalling that this would be the last moment of the film in which Hemsworth graced the screen. 

But back to Anne. 

He sighed. "You're not the one who was broken up with the day before your birthday." 

Elizabeth and Sebastian had been together for five blessed years. Blessed in a physical sense. Perhaps not so much, uh, emotionally. Elizabeth apparently agreed and had been quite vocal yesterday about how much of her life he had wasted. No mention of his life being wasted too. Typical of her, really. She'd even stormed out of his life, quite literally slamming the door shut behind her, leaving all of her belongings behind in the process. 

To be fair, Elizabeth didn't have a lot of items at his flat; Sebastian didn't appreciate clutter and she'd been rather materialistic. It wasn't like they had lived together either. God forbid. That would have been a nightmare, for Elizabeth had a fondness for bobbleheads. There was a whole wall of them at her flat in Soho. At least five shelves worth! Sebastian avoided that wall like the plague, averting his gaze whenever he was forced to walk past, which was quite often, since that wall, unfortunately, led to her bedroom. The bobbleheads' beady little eyes would nod at him menacingly, as if they didn't approve of his cavorting with their Elizabeth. Well, they must be happy now. No more Sebastian.

Come to think of it, Elizabeth had always been annoyed that he teased her about her ridiculous collection. Shelves were meant for books, not horrifying knick-knacks! That was probably one of the many reasons why she broke up with him, if not the main reason, as ridiculous as that sounded. Not that he'd ever ask. Not that she'd ever talk to him again. That bridge was effectively burned forever.

"I never understood why you were with her for so long anyway," Anne continued. Sebastian could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. She was likely decluttering as she chatted with him. Multi-tasking was something Anne did a lot. It was something they had in common.

Sebastian managed to refrain from saying aloud, "She was a good shag," and instead just grunted noncommittally, popping a handful of popcorn in his mouth and chewing vigorously.

"Come on, Seb. Humor me? I really want to go out and do something." "Go out for a bite with Ominis then!"

"He's held up at work. Something about an important deadline." Sebastian could hear Anne's pout through his mobile. Anne and Ominis were married last summer in a lovely—albeit a bit saccharine for Sebastian's taste—ceremony on the beach in Brighton. They'd been together for ages. Sebastian didn't know how Anne managed. As much as he loved his oldest friend, Ominis could be a bit of a buzzkill. He was an accountant, after all.

"Tough luck," Sebastian said in reply, knowing that Anne would not be amused. 

He waited for Anne to give up, even though it was probably in vain. Anne possessed a stubborn streak that rivaled his own. Meanwhile, he unpaused the film, keeping the sound muted. He had it memorized anyway. He gave Hemsworth one last long, lingering look of appreciation, and then his character was diving down to his demise. 

"What if I had an idea?" Anne asked, a mischievous lilt in her tone. Sebastian's shoulders lifted, a spark of attention flickering in his gaze as he shifted forward, the worn cushions protesting softly beneath him. Anne certainly knew how to pique Sebastian's interest. It was probably a twin thing.

"What sort of idea?" he asked, reaching for the clicker and pausing the film once more. 

"Well, there's someone I think you'd very much like to meet. And now that you're single…"

"Oh?" Sebastian interrupted, raising an unruly eyebrow. "Please tell me she's tall, blond, and athletic."

Anne laughed. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

Of course. "Right," Sebastian said. "And where, pray tell, will she be on Halloween? A party, I presume?"

"Not exactly." 

Sebastian squinted at the telly, then glanced down at himself—his rumpled shirt, a stain on his joggers, crumbs scattered across his lap. He looked so unkempt, almost pitiful. When had he become so pathetic? 

Get a hold of yourself, Sebastian! You're thirty now. Go out and do something fun, the older and wiser version of himself shouted above his lizard brain. 

Sebastian brushed the crumbs off his shirt. Might as well give Anne's plan a shot. "Fine. Where to?" 

The address Anne texted him was a gym, of all places. Good thing she'd told him to wear casual clothing. 

In typical fashion, Sebastian was early, so he leaned against the wall near the entrance, waiting for his twin sister to arrive, attempting to ooze suave energy on the off-chance that the young woman Anne wanted to introduce him to was here, or arriving soon. 

But why a gym ? And on their birthday? And why would this woman Anne wanted him to meet—whoever she bloody was—be at the gym on Halloween? Unless Anne had taken his request for someone athletic rather literally. A man could hope.

Sebastian admitted to himself he was intrigued. He scrolled on his iPhone absentmindedly as he surreptitiously inspected the room. 

The gym was more crowded than he expected, but he didn't observe any young women around his age. Not yet, at least. A group of rather matronly, older women stood off to the side of the room near a door that appeared to lead to a fitness studio. They were chattering away like a gaggle of geese, their heads bobbing back and forth, much like his ex-girlfriend's bobbleheads. Damn them! Damn those bloody bobbleheads! Why couldn't he get them out of his head? They were a downright nuisance. 

"Happy birthday, Seb!" Anne to the rescue, thank the universe. She pulled him into a short but sweet embrace. "Right back at ya, sis," he replied as he fumbled about with his mobile, stuffing it in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Good, you're in joggers," Anne said, nodding approvingly. "You listened." She smiled and winked. "I do that sometimes." He paused. "Now, where's this cheeky minx you wanted to introduce me to?" Anne, also in joggers, although hers were one half of a forest-green set—Anne could be a fashion icon when she put in the effort—rolled her eyes. "No wonder Elizabeth broke up with you," she said. Sebastian mock-gasped, plunging an invisible dagger into his heart. "Et tu, Brute!"

"Oh, spare me, Caesar." She pulled her own mobile out of her purse, glanced at it briefly, then nodded as she peered over Sebastian's shoulder. "Good, we're right on time. The class should be starting soon." Sebastian groaned. "A class? You brought me to one of your exercise classes?" 

Anne had been taking exercise classes for years, ever since she beat breast cancer. When Sebastian asked her why—it wasn't like she needed them, the wisp of a woman that she was—she explained it away as something she enjoyed doing, as she'd never had the stamina when she was ill. Sebastian understood to a certain extent, but he also didn't appreciate being part of her devious scheme, whatever it entailed. 

Speaking of that… 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked, glancing down at his very slight paunch. Sebastian enjoyed a good pint or two at the local pub every other night or so, as most of his colleagues at the university did. It was often the highlight of his day. Who knew that being an English professor could be so tiresome? 

"Never!" she said through a chuckle. "I promise I didn't lie. There is someone I want to introduce you to. But a class or two would probably do you some good," she added as she walked forward, grasping his hand and pulling him along. 

"Okay, where is she?" Sebastian asked, shaking his hand forcefully to release himself from her surprisingly firm grip. He didn't need his potential new girlfriend to see him holding hands with his sister, of all things. 

But Anne didn't reply as she'd been accosted by the throng of matriarchs at the entrance to the fitness studio. 

Wait. 

No.

"Anne…" Sebastian began.

"Oh, Anne! We've missed you! Where have you been?" The old ladies bowled over each other, pulling Anne into hug after endless hug.

"And who is this?" a woman with bottle-red hair inquired, reaching out for Sebastian. She smelled like she'd been rolling around in a bathtub full of potpourri. He flinched and backed away.

"This is my twin brother, Sebastian," Anne said. "It's our birthday today!" Sebastian grimaced, his cheeks growing hot.

"Happy birthday," another woman with a shock of white hair said to his left, patting his shoulder. At least she smelled normal. Sebastian ducked to the side regardless. Why were these women so affectionate? He was a literal stranger to them! For crying out loud!

The doors opened, saving him from being forced to verbally acknowledge the women. They all shuffled through, Anne leading the pack. Sebastian dawdled behind, his tattered old trainers squeaking on the shiny wood floor. 

"Anne," he said, as he slunk behind her—to the very front row. Dammit, this was dire.

"Yes?" She didn't look him in the eye. She was too busy stretching. Apparently.

"What class is this?" Sebastian asked hesitantly.

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a booming baritone. "Welcome, everyone, to Zumba! It looks like we have a new face tonight." Oh no… 

Sebastian snapped his head toward the sound of the man's voice, only to instantly freeze in place.

Standing before him was the most beautiful man Sebastian had ever laid eyes on. 

Wait, that couldn't be right. 

Sebastian shook his head.

The man was simply very aesthetically pleasing, that was all. His eyes were a captivating shade of golden-brown, his hair blond, long and wavy, pulled back in a low bun, and his smile… His smile was dazzling, white and radiant, catching the fluorescent light above his head like a flash of brilliance. He even noticed that the man had a dimple on the right side of his cheek, but not his left. But most importantly, while he wasn't slim, he was fit. Very, very fit. Chris Hemsworth's perfectly chiseled body briefly flitted across Sebastian's mind. He shook his head—bloody again —to disperse it. What was wrong with him today? 

Sebastian blinked back to attention.

"I'm Damien, your instructor," the man said, addressing the whole group, but Sebastian could swear his eyes lingered on Sebastian for a bit longer than everyone else. "Is everyone ready to dance?" No, Sebastian was not, in fact, ready to dance. Sebastian Sallow didn't dance.

The instructor—Damien—adjusted his headset, then fiddled with a clicker he fished out of his pocket. The music began.

God, were they really going to warm up to Pitbull? Sebastian shuddered. He was in deep, deep trouble. What had Anne been thinking?

Well, this was complete and utter shite. No surprises there.

"If you're having trouble following along, start with the feet!" Damien exclaimed, his eyes firmly fixed on Sebastian. "You don't have to do the arms." 

Sebastian struggled to keep his composure, but it was rather difficult under the circumstances; his brain was fried and he was already sweating bullets. Why was it so hot in this damned room? Where were the bloody fans? And, he suddenly realized he left his Nalgene on the Tube. When this class was over he was going to murder Anne. 

To make matters worse, they were only ten minutes in! And where was this young lady that Anne wanted to introduce him to? It would be just Sebastian's luck that she decided not to come tonight and his birthday would be a total loss. What bollocks!

In his mental grumbling, Sebastian lost his bearings entirely. He stumbled right in the middle of his grapevine like a baby giraffe learning to walk and crashed into the woman to his right—Mrs. Potpourri-Explosion, with her blazing red hair and a figure that could only be described as 'huggably plump.'

She yelped but recovered quickly, following it up with a polite, "It's alright, dearie," not once losing her rhythm.

How were these little old ladies so graceful? It was beyond comprehension.

The song—Sebastian vaguely recognized it as merengue—soon ended. Damien, ever attentive, sprinted over to Sebastian. Sebastian braced himself. 

"You're doing great!" Damien called out, flashing a grin. Sebastian desperately wanted to respond, but he found himself speechless, completely overwhelmed by the sudden crisp scent of fresh grass. And was that a hint of mint? Good lord, Damien smelled positively divine. 

Clearing his throat, Sebastian glanced down at his trainers. "Thanks, mate," he mumbled, but Damien was already off, dashing back to the front of the class.

Anne snickered to Sebastian's left, but he was too distracted to verbally acknowledge her. The music had begun again, this time Michael Jackson's "Thriller." A classic for Halloween. 

Did the instructors choose the songs? Sebastian hoped not. Most of the music thus far had been, frankly, uninspired. But, to be fair, he didn't think the women in the room would appreciate his taste in music. They'd more than likely complain that it was far too loud and bassy. Anne had never particularly been a fan of Kasabian, The Libertines, or even Arctic Monkeys for that matter. Her loss.

Oh no, they had moved on to salsa. No. Absolutely not.

Sebastian mimed a drinking gesture to Anne, insinuating that he was stepping out of the room for some water. She nodded as she executed what Damien called a 'right turn' without missing a beat. Sebastian felt a wave of relief at his decision to escape the room, even if only briefly.

Sebastian thought he had fled alone, but as he made his way to the drinking fountain, taking a quick sip of water, he was gob-smacked to find Mrs. Potpourri looming behind him. He stumbled to the side. 

"Is this your first time attending a Zumba class?" she asked, leaning down to fill her water bottle. It was bright red, almost as vibrant as her hair.

Sebastian nodded hesitantly. "That obvious, huh?" She smiled. "You really are doing great," she said, repeating what Damien had said earlier in the class. "I'm Mrs. Evans, by the way. But you can call me Mary." 

Evans. Sebastian's least favorite celebrity Chris. Of course. He somehow managed to hold back a chuckle as he drawled, "You're far too kind."

"I do try," she said, her eyes sparkling. Was Sebastian imagining it or did the corner of her lips tilt up ever so slightly? Was she… flirting with him?

No, absolutely not!

Sebastian pivoted sharply and hurried back into the fitness studio. Anne finished an impressively complex turn, then shot him a triumphant grin. "Back already?" she teased, a shit-eating smirk on her face. 

"You're a menace," Sebastian muttered.

"I know I am," she shot back, "but what does that make you?"

"A fool, obviously," Sebastian said through a  sigh. "Why I ever thought I could trust you…"

Anne had the audacity to shush him! The cheek of it!

And then they were back to dancing to a Pitbull song. What would Mr. Worldwide think of his music being such a hit among the geriatrics? He'd probably be less than thrilled, though the cash flow might help dull the sting a bit…

Mrs. Potpourri—erm, Evans, that is—piped in, scattering his distracted thoughts. "Oh, this song's my favorite," she said, very loudly, as if she wanted everyone to hear. "Thank you, Damien!" 

Damien tossed another one of his stunning smiles in their direction, his eyes snagging on Sebastian's once more. Sebastian jerked backward, swallowing nervously, then promptly choked on his own saliva. He burst into a fit of coughing.

The next thing he knew Damien was beside him, thumping him on the back vigorously. 

"Breathe, breathe," he said calmly amid thump after embarrassing thump.

Sebastian attempted to get a word in edgewise but he was too busy literally choking. Bloody fucking hell.

"What's his name?" he heard Damien ask Anne amidst his hacking. Anne stood beside him looking as if she might burst into laughter at any second. Yes, Sebastian was definitely going to murder her after class. That was decided. 

"Sebastian," she answered.

"Sebastian," Damien practically crooned. His voice was rich, as if it were dripping with honey. "Sebastian, take a breath." Sebastian did as he was told. He took another. 

"Good, good." 

Once again, his nose was swept up in a sharp tide of grass and mint. He could almost picture himself at a football match on Christmas Day. God, why did Damien smell so good? 

"I'm alright," Sebastian finally managed to eke out. His whole body felt like he had just been thrown into a blazing fire. He knew his freckled cheeks had utterly betrayed him. 

Damien looked away, perhaps embarrassed for him. Or maybe to stifle a laugh. Sebastian hadn't the foggiest idea.

"We only have a song or two left before cool-down," Damien said. "You can sit them out if you'd like and wait for your… sister?" he finished as a question. Anne nodded at him in affirmation as Sebastian shook his head vehemently. He was doing that a lot today. 

"No, I can do it," he stated firmly. Damien narrowed his eyes. Sebastian noted it seemed to be more of an inquisitive stare than a challenge though. "I can do it," he repeated, probably lamely, but whatever. There was no possible way he was going to give up now. Sebastian didn't care if he passed out cold on the floor from asphyxiation. He was going to prove to this man—his two left feet be damned—that he could finish his class. That he could keep up with his minuscule sister, with these elderly women.

His determination gave him pause though. Why did he even care? Surely Damien wouldn't give him a second thought after this class was over. Sebastian wouldn't be back. Sebastian wouldn't think about Damien ever again either… right? Dammit, he was lying to himself if he thought that statement was true.

For there was something about Damien.

Something in the graceful way he demonstrated the moves for the class, the deep rumble of his voice as he called out affirmations, and then, of course, there was his addictive scent. 

Damien chose that very moment to release his hair from his low bun. Sebastian couldn't look away. Cascades of golden blond hair shimmered in the harsh fluorescent lighting, bouncing coquettishly against the top of Damien's shoulders as he finished a move. Sebastian released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. 

Oh my god. 

Oh my god, was he bisexual ? Had thirty years of his life passed him by and he'd never even realized?

Surely not. Surely not! No… Damien was just very feminine. Right?

Sebastian would know if he were into men by thirty years old, wouldn't he?

And then it hit him. Chris Hemsworth. Why did he go to the cinema five times to view The Cabin in the Woods in the first place? Chris Motherfucking Hemsworth. It wasn't like the man was a BAFTA Award-winning actor. He was merely a sight for sore eyes. He was eye candy. Man candy. 

God dammit! Sebastian was very, very bisexual. And he was having this revelation during the middle of a Zumba class, beside his sister, sandwiched between at least a dozen middle-aged women, on his thirtieth birthday. Bugger it all. 

He gulped as the final song ended. He couldn't stay for the cool-down. He needed to get out of this room. Now. Right now. He grabbed Anne by the shoulder and practically carried her out of the fitness studio as she shouted out in protest. Sebastian averted his gaze but managed to catch Damien's eyes widening before he whipped around and exited the room, irascible twin sister in tow. 

Once the door clicked shut behind them, and ensuring they were out of earshot of the gym rats, Sebastian set Anne back down on solid ground.

"What are you doing?" Anne hissed, her eyes blazing. 

Why was she angry? It was Sebastian who should be angry! Which he was. Extremely!

"Why didn't you say something?" he demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

Anne glowered back at him. "What are you prattling on about?"

"The instructor! Damien!" 

"What of him?" Sebastian glared. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Out with it, then. I want to hear you say it." 

It took Sebastian far too long to realize he was tapping his foot on the floor furiously. "You were going to introduce me to him !"

"By Jove, he's got it!" 

Sebastian released an exasperated sigh. "How did you even know I'd be interested in a man?"

Anne paused. She tilted her head at him curiously. Then, to Sebastian's complete shock and annoyance, she started to laugh. Why was she laughing ? Dammit!

"You didn't know you were bi?" she said through a guffaw. Sebastian merely stared back at her, his cheeks growing hot. Again. Her face slackened. Her expression shifted to complete astonishment. "You didn't know," she repeated, this time more seriously. "I figured you knew. I mean, I am, so why wouldn't you be?"

"What?" Sebastian stammered.

"Oh come off it, Sebastian. Don't play coy—you knew I liked women too."

"I most certainly did not!"

"Really? Even back when Ominis and I were on a break at school?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Oh. Well, erm…Poppy and I…" "I don't want to know!" He clapped his hands to his ears. "Stop right there!"

"I'm stopping, I'm stopping!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Ominis is bi, too, you know." "Excuse me?"

"Why do you think he hates Hobhouse so much?"

Absolutely not . Sebastian took a step back. "Now I know you're messing with me," he tried, hoping he was correct. 

She burst into laughter. "Okay, okay. You got me there. But he did tell me he kissed Garreth once." "No!" 

"Yes." "You're kidding." "Swear down!"

Sebastian brought a hand to his forehead and began to rub at it vigorously. "At this rate, I'm questioning everything—myself included."

"Someone has to."

He gave her a good shove. "Rude," she complained, but Sebastian noted her tone was light and airy. "Well, what are you waiting for?" 

Now it was Anne's turn to cross her arms and tap her foot impatiently.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

She nodded toward the fitness studio door, which was now open. The crowd of middle-aged women were already streaming out. Well, it appeared class had (finally) ended. So why wasn't Sebastian relieved? 

"Go on, then—go get him, tiger!" Anne laughed, giving him a firm push.

Sebastian gulped. How exactly did one approach a man? He guessed he was about to find out.

He had barely stepped through the door when Damien practically materialized before him. Sebastian's heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

"Thanks for coming today!" Damien said, grinning. "It was nice to see a male face in my class for once." He was speaking so quickly that Sebastian could hardly keep up—and he completely missed the last bit. But Damien was now looking at him expectantly. Shit.

"Uh…what?" Sebastian said, rather dumbly.

Damien chuckled, toying with a loose strand of his long blond hair. "I asked if you'd come again," he repeated, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Hm?" Sebastian's attention had drifted, far too entranced by the way Damien's long, slender fingers teased through his hair. Sebastian wanted to be the one doing that. 

Oh god, Damien had asked a question. Shit! Shit, shit, shit.

He snapped back to reality to find Damien smiling, eyebrows raised. "Will you be coming to my class again?"

"Oh." Sebastian hesitated, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to let Damien down.

Perhaps sensing his indecision, Damien filled the silence. "No pressure. I was just curious." "To be honest…I don't think I'm cut out for Zumba."

Damien's smile faltered very slightly. It seemed as if he was trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. "Fair enough," he replied. "Well, thanks for coming, then." He gave a polite nod and started to turn away.

"Wait!" Sebastian blurted out. He was bungling this entirely. Why was he like this? 

Damien turned back around and searched Sebastian's face.

"I… erm…could I maybe have your number?" he heard himself ask, barely believing it. 

Damien's eyebrows shot up, but then a carefree grin spread across his handsome face. All of Sebastian's thoughts emptied at once as warmth flooded through him from head to toe—and then some. Most notably, a steady pool of it settled low in his belly, just above his waistband. He shifted his stance, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure as he waited, pulse thrumming, for Damien's reply. 

"I thought you'd never ask," Damien said, pulling his mobile out of his pocket.

And just like that, Sebastian Sallow was stepping into new territory: showing interest in a man. On his thirtieth birthday, no less. Truly, the universe had a sense of humor. Did wonders never cease? 

Sebastian sauntered out of the fitness studio, feeling rather chuffed with himself. He spotted Mrs. Evans by the door, likely lingering to thank Damien for the class—she struck him as the exceptionally polite type.

"He's all yours now," Sebastian said with a casual nod. Mrs. Evans just smiled back, an odd twinkle in her eye that almost looked… mischievous.

She raised a hand in farewell, then called out, "Ready to go, Damien?"

Huh? Did Damien know this woman outside of class?

Damien whipped off his headset and began gathering his things. "Coming, Mum!"

…Oh. Oh. Well. That explained that, then. Damien Evans. It figured.

[itookyoudown]

i need ur thoughts on what a post-canon (post-raylan) tim would be like (for science)

hi justie (justified bestie) 🖤

let's do some science! i really truly feel 100% in my heart that Tim "powder keg" Gutterson finally blows within 2-3 months of Raylan leaving for Miami.

that's with my givenson shipper hat on and off.

i feel Tim's due for a blow-up + burn out (season 4 teased us SO BAD with it and did a whole ass set-up and never went anywhere with it RIP) and Raylan's leaving (whether or not they were fucking or broke up or went LDR or never speak again) is the perfect catalyst for that.

in their last scene together, Tim is visibly distraught. boy swallows down a lump and makes himself not cry. what's all this then??

Tim is weird in season 6 and not in his usual gay little weirdo way. i mean he's concerning "oh i'd consider him a suicide risk" way.

he spends season 4/5 on the ratty side with his hair and then come season 6 he has a minor glow-up. they go back to styling his hair, his face has that clean-cut boy scout look again, he's back in layers (though to be fair this could just be because the show is trying to trick us into believing it's winter time and they're not shooting in California 🫠), and there's just something a lil feral in the way he speaks/acts that makes me think he's shaking a warning bell.

sure, we could attribute it all to some behind the scenes change regarding the crew or cast (i'm not sure here but someday i want to research the makeup and costume department to see who's who there exactly you know).

however, i think the tidying up Tim does to his appearance in season 6 is just a band-aid over how unwell he's doing mentally and emotionally. looking fine on the outside, but sick on the inside.

i think whether it was romantic or platonic, Raylan leaving is a big loss for Tim and he doesn't adjust well to losing his desk mate and deputy partner.

i'd say it really makes Tim have to confront and process Mark's death (and might also bring up his daddy's death and the death or loss of anyone else he's ever served with) and Tim just...doesn't do well with that on his own.

i like to imagine it triggers Tim's alcoholism big time and its a speedy spiral. does something extremely stupid (drunk driving again, fight at a bar, suicide attempt). he ends up in rehab or a psych ward or goes on leave from work. something that gets him some help with the alcohol + PTSD so he does some measure of healing to make himself functional again.

i don't think Tim stays in Lexington or even Kentucky post-canon. we know there's no family tying Tim there (if it was his hometown or home state they would have said so -- the US marshals apparently love to assign deputies to where they grew up). i think the Lexington office is just Tim's initial duty station and he'll move on once he's eligible to leave.

i like to think after Tim shapes up and sorts himself out a bit, he ends up out west in a big city like LA. or once he qualifies he's pulled into something like SOG due to his skillset.

to me, Tim's a lifer in law enforcement and he'd stick with the US marshals. long-term, i love the idea that he ends up settling down in Louisiana and becomes some sort of teacher/trainer at Camp Beauregard for the marshals.

and I really do believe Tim stays Tim for his whole life. i think he stays a little weirdo and he's forever closeted at work. i can't see him undergoing any softening or massive change as he gets older.

i also think alcohol and his PTSD is a lifelong struggle for him, but he does get better about making local connections with veteran support groups and gets himself a real friend or two through some nerdy hobby (he seems like a prime candidate to do D&D or something) or at a shooting range.

anyways, there's my post-canon Tim talk 🤠

[puppygirlirl]

"i need to figure out why i have such bad insomnia recently it's becoming a real issu-" (the sleep deprivation finally reaches the core of my brain and consumes the last crumbs of my sanity) "...there's clearly only one answer, im becoming a vampire and i hunge-" (imagines a homoerotic scene of me biting a girls neck while we embrace each other tighter than either of us have ever felt before) "ii might need to go to a ddoctor actually i dont feel very go-" (an image of me dying in bed as the love of my love cups my face forces its way into my mind, she leans in for one last kiss and-

before the thought ends i collapse to the ground dead, rats swarm my body and instantly turn my corpse into a perfectly cleaned skeleton. the audience claps, the children scream in terror, and my wife watches on with tears in her eyes, knowing i didn't want it to be this way in the end.

she mourns for a couple of months, cry's when she smells pumpkin spice for the first time since i died. "it was always her favorite" she thinks, looking down at the overpriced latte she got to feel like i might still be there, even if it's just for a second. the feeling is fleeting, and just leaves her hollow again. nothing could replace the woman she loved, especially not some shitty coffee.

after a beat of staring into the cup she was holding a bit too tight, a tear dripped into the foam, then another, then so many she couldn't really see the coffee anymore. a rage washed over her, why her, why her wife. "those fucking rats, she didn't deserve this" she thinks as her hand finally tightens just too much, crushing the foam container in her hand. it burns a little, but she doesn't really notice. it all just hurt too much. it wasn't fair. none of this was fair.

the papers keep hailing the whole situation as "the best performance art ever done", praising the brave girl for sacrificing herself for her art, losing everything just to put across such a striking message. the truth though was that none of it was planned. she knew her wife's death wasn't on purpose, the stress must have gotten to her. those long sleepless nights where that driven, stupid girl would stay up to get her routine just right, being begged to come to bed and get some rest just to ignore her for the sake of her art.

the anger shifted to her late wife. "it was so preventable, if she only took care of herself, you fucking idiot, why'd you have to leave like this." her thoughts kept racing, none of this made sense. they both should have been happy together, they should be cuddling on their couch together watching 60's horror movies and laughing at the bad acting. they should be safe in each others arms. they should be together. but they weren't. they never would be again.

there's a part of her that wonders if it was on purpose. if she died just to put on such a big show. immortalizing herself as a martyr for the people, a grim showing of what the world has come to, and what it takes for people to be entertained even if it kills the artist in the process, literally consumed by the rats begging for whatever scraps of life they can get. it doesn't really matter, the outcome doesn't change. she's alone now, and she had to deal with that.

suddenly, i burst out from behind the counter of the cafe and scream "GOTCHA!!". fireworks go off around me, everyone in the cafe begins losing their minds, i was alive the whole fuckin time.

initially, my wife screams in confusion and fear at the visage of her wife she's presumed was rotting in the ground for months at this point, but slowly, her expression softens. the room goes silent for a moment, and a shaky smile washes over her face. she walks up to me with tears still staining her cheeks, and cups my face, just like in the last vision i had. her hands move down slowly to my throat, and before i can react, she starts squeezing.

she was always stronger then me, but even with the pure adrenaline running through my veins, i couldn't get her hands to budge. the acrylic nails she got the day before were digging into my skin, drawing blood and making the sensation even more terrifying. the smile never left her face, it just got stronger. a giggle escaped from her pained smirk, then a full on chuckle. my vision started to go blurry as my hands weakly push her away, and her laugh grows louder and stronger. i looked her in the eyes one more time as the light left my own, and all i saw was rage. "what did i do so wrong" was the last thought that crossed my mind as the lack of oxygen finally shut me off for good, and i dropped to the ground. the rats come back, and clean my corpse once more.

the restaurant erupts in cheers and laughter, "she did it again!" they holler, already posting videos of the event to social media. my wife drops to the ground, holds my bones close and sobs, praying that the rats take her this time too.

[sterlingarcher23]

Max's memories are forshadowing: ElMax & Lumax

Inventive foreshadowing creates a sense of unity in a story even when the audience may not be consciously aware of the foreshadowing and payoff., David Trottier

Sort of. The happy memories actually give us the basic structure of Max's character arc in regards to relationships in Season 5. (As far as there is scene material because I think there's something else.)

Now the first thing is Lucas & Max from S4, but then they start to show us several scenes but completely out of order.

Lucas "I'm right here" (at her bedside - S4 or 5?), Swallowing the red Skittle/the ghost like Pac-Man mid flight ("You were wearing that yellow benny's burgers t-shirt and it was so big it almost swallowed you whole")=consumption of a ghost, followed by the linking sequence, going back to S2 apso out of order, the boys meeting the killer & Lucas and Dustin teaming with Max, the ghost trap, photos of ElMax, like frozen in time (Doctor Who=single moment in time). Lucas and Max when he calls her Madmax (like Mad Max Rockatansky), again ElMax together ....

...even Mike appears (a talk between him & Max like Kota and Lucy having a conversation?), foreshadowing the movie date, ElMax hugging, Lumax not unhappy and, Highfive! Winners.

Lover in the mind - lover in the physical world.

Lucas speaks to the dying (physical), El speaks to the going (mind).

Both have patterns that need another verse in order to rhyme bc of a tiny change midway through (similar to a certain D&D bridge puzzle😉)

Elumax Endgame.

Byler on the left, ElMax on the right, both when Will or Max respectively, have their possession phase.

Oh, and the movie date scene is a basic story writing technique: a promise. And this needs a payoff. The question isn't IF but HOW. (And how you get abilities is been established in Season 4.)

It's you and me won't be unhappy.... Promise, progress, payoff.

So, they made a promise, are now (with the revival) in the process of a progress which will be added through the way how Max will wake up....

...and this will get a payoff. Simple. Right now, most can't imagine how, given the circumstances even though the writers gave us the rules for doing it and every foreshadowing possible that will lead to a payoff. Max can't feel nor see - both! So, either both will be mended or none. Excluding one is bad writing. - So, its both. We learned how, therefore it's not a Deus ex machina, and we will learn why. Max only needs to take his, I mean her medicine. Darn pronouns.

That payoff is only possible through ElMax and note how they use sequences with them in which they are physically close to one another after the mall scene in which they link, like they are...inseparable.

Here separated...

...after this they are combined. Linked. "Love goes through the stomach"

It's all One and One for all = 11

A bit dated (admittedly)

[eluminium]

Oh boy, day 4 of Skizz week 2! I decided to dip into one of my AU's for this one! It's basically Pearl Moon: Ace Attorney. Yep, Hermitcraft Ace Attorney AU. This fic is more like a missing scene thing rather than a preview, though. So fair warning, this fic includes depictions of injury, detention center things, and references to death and executions. If you're sensitive to any of these topics, proceed with caution!

Feel free to ask me about this AU if you're curious and want to know more!

As always, thanks to @skizzlemanweek for today's prompt!

Prompt 4: Warm / Cool

The stale air is a lot cooler than he remembers it being. He drags a big breath into his lungs and holds it there for a few seconds, just to feel how his insides numb ever so slightly. It's preferable to the stabbing ache in his chest that threatens to consume him. But he can't hold the air in forever.

He huffs his breath out and rolls onto his side, the unforgiving metal of the detention bed forcing more cold into his body. "How did I get into this mess?" he mumbles to himself, despite knowing full well how he got here. How a decorated and respected detective of the L.A police force ended up in a detention cell just like any other suspect. He's gotta say, it's way suckier on the inside than on the outside. It smells like someone poured disinfectant on dirt, and then dirt on the disinfectant, and then more disinfectant on the new dirt. It's never fully quiet, but it's not loud, mostly. Just enough noise to make you want to tear your hair out, then followed up by a spike in volume. Like someone breaking down into tears, or screaming in frustration, or swearing at you because you were involved in their arrest, or laughing at you because of how far you've fallen.

Maybe those last two aren't universal experiences, but they still contribute to the sucky atmosphere!

Skizz sighs and rolls over again, trying to get comfortable on something that isn't designed to be comfortable. Although somehow not even that is the worst thing. That honor goes to the heat, or more accurately, lack thereof. The soulless brick walls carry through them a chill that is just potent enough to be uncomfortable. It leaves its mark across his hands, arms, and face, digging into the bare flesh and leaving him wanting someone to turn up the heating just a LITTLE BIT more. The pathetic excuse of a blanket sure as hell doesn't do much to keep it out.

But it's all worth it. For him. For Impulse.

Skizz's heart lurches at the mention of his best friend, his other half. He's probably in the hospital getting his injuries tended to. Good. Considering the last time Skizz saw him…

He runs into the bar, frantic, scaring the life out of Tango. Without a word but with a shaky hand, he points Skizz towards the hidden room, the one they make all the deals in. Skizz wastes no time. Behind the cabinet, down the stairs, through the door-

He has to strangle a yell at the scene before him. The room is busted up, bad. Decorations and furniture lay scattered and destroyed all over the floor. Two glasses are shattered by the big wooden table, whatever was in them spilled on the carpet. The scent in the air is disgustingly familiar and unmistakable. Blood.

His eyes frantically scan the room, and land on what he had begged not to see.

Impulse. Oh, Impulse. No. No no no no no no no no no-

Skizz nearly collapses by his buddy's body. There are multiple bruises already forming, his nose gushing blood and his lip cracked and busted. He turns him over, looks for any major wounds, for breathing, for a pulse-

It's there. It's shakey, but Impulse is breathing. It's hammering like a jackhammer, but his heart is beating. Skizz could cry in relief. One of Impulse's eyes is open but glazed over. Skizz can still see it though. The fear, the anxiety. He's scared.

"It's okay. buddy- It's going to be alright! I've called for backup, help is on it's way. You're safe, Dipple Dop, you won't be hurt anymore. I won't let you be hurt anymore"

A weak whine escapes Impulse in response, and it nearly breaks Skizz's heart. Who would do this? Who would dare do this to his Impulse?! He looks around frantically and spots another body lying further away. He glances back at Impulse and runs his hand through his hair soothingly (ignoring how blood coats it) before he stands up and heads over.

It's another face he didn't want to see but for different reasons.

It's Bdubs. Or "Junior". Or "Little Clock". Or whatever stupid criminal nickname he's got this week. The second in command to "Mother Clock", the head of a massive criminal empire. A man Skizz is unfortunately familiar with even outside his work as a detective. It looks like his criminal ways have caught up with him though, because he looks even worse than Impulse. He's missing more teeth than usual, his arm is bent in an unnatural way, and most of all, he has a giant bleeding wound on his head.

Wait.

A chill cascades down Skizz's spine. He looks between Impulse and Bdubs a few times. No, there's no way Bdubs is-

He surges forward to check.

No pulse.

Skizz shakes his head violently. No, he doesn't want to think about that. He did what he had to do. His hands land in his hair and he grips his locks hard. He did what he had to do. He did what he had to do!

He abruptly stands up. He can't stand still, can't let this anxiety carve out his chest like a knife through a pomegranate. He starts pacing around in his cell, his hands falling away from his hair as he crosses his arms.

He couldn't let Bdubs ruin Impulse's life again.

Can you really blame Bdubs if it is Impulse who committed the act?

"Shut up" He growls at his own brain. Impulse couldn't have done it. It's been years since- since THAT. Impulse was healing, he had gotten way better! Skizz saw it with his own eyes, he was there every step of the way. There's no way he'd- he'd get revenge on Bdubs now of all times!

You noticed that Impulse's knuckles were bruised. No one else in the building was harmed.

"Shut UP." His pacing increases in speed. Well, Impulse could be defending himself! Bdubs is criminal scum, and he was "betrayed" by Impulse too. Bdubs could be the one who wanted revenge!

You know that's unlikely. Bdubs has had a new fling for a year. Besides, his body was way more beaten up than Impulse's. That takes some intent, don't you think-?

"SHUT UP!" He roars, bringing his fist down on the detention bed. The CLANG! of the impact echoes throughout the cell block, and for once, it goes completely quiet. Skizz wants to scream.

Instead, he sits back down, cradling his now aching hand against his chest.

Impulse didn't do it. Skizz would rather die than suspect his other half of doing something so awful.

Then why would you take the fall for him?

"Because he'd get convicted anyways. No one would believe him," Skizz weakly reasons. His eyes sting.

Does it even matter if Impulse is guilty or not?

God, he fucking hates his inner conscious. But he thinks about it. Really thinks about it. He reaches into the core of his soul, trying to find any part of him that would give Impulse up.

…No. No, it wouldn't matter. It doesn't matter. Skizz swore to protect him, to keep him safe, to make sure no one would hurt him again. He PROMISED on that fateful night all those years ago, when he cradled his fragile and broken best friend in his arms, to never let anyone throw him away again as long as Skizz still walks this Earth.

Which includes Impulse throwing himself away.

A deep sigh leaves him as he nearly slumps over. The cool air feels way better on his skin now after all that pacing. But his chest has become nothing but an endless aching abyss. He doesn't want to die. He's no idiot, he knows that a crime like this will get someone the death penalty. He's seen it first hand, many many many MANY times. But when he imagines Impulse in his place, it rips him apart. Impulse lying hurt and scared in this cell. Impulse being forced up on the witness stand. Impulse being publically condemned by the Judge, the gallery, and the prosecution. Impulse walking up to the gallows.

Skizz buries his face in his hands, wincing when the hurt one makes contact. His breath hitches, and he fights back tears.

No. Never. Never that. He did what he had to do.

My god, look at you. When did you get so pessimistic? You have a defense attorney, there is hope.

He wants to laugh. Wow, now his brain wants to be nice? What a prick. But it's not wrong. Ms. Pearl Moon has taken his case. Maybe she and Gem will figure out the truth. Maybe they'll be able to save him. And both of them are friends of his and Impulse, so they'd never accuse Impulse of the crime. Maybe Impulse will be kept out of this, after all.

But in the worst-case scenario…If they do accuse Impulse…

He doesn't want to think about what he'll do then.

But he knows himself too well. He'll never let Impulse into the cool embrace of death as long as he lives.

He drags in another deep breath and keeps it in. The chilly air numbs his insides again. Anything to keep away the crushing tension in his heart.

[blackdigitalrose]

Tues - Yes! Pretty Cure 5 - Ep 20 - 22

EP 20

Not to be pedantic but wouldn't Precure come under that?

I think this may be the first time they've shown any bestfriend antics, Rin is usually too busy being Nozomi's second mum but if Rin liked the design, why did she trade it off to Karen to have a bigger workspace? Not that it mounted to anything in the long run and why does no one ever have conviction when telling Nozomi off, they start, take one look at her and it just goes away... Urara's reason was also quite legit this time to.

When you work close to real time, how to show a shows its age. Weren't these on the way out in 2007 to make place for the mini ones?

Although, he's been rogue a while now, I'm surprised Nightmare hasn't done anything to track him down? (Just as much as the fact we've hit EP 20, nearly half way and the rogue's gallery are all still alive?)

I suppose, unlucky Urara that's two ep in a row she's been targeted. Outside that, Urara wrestles with the idea of singer and actress but her debut went off with out a hitch and a big crowd, ep done... It felt like something was missing from this one.

EP 21

I'm starting to feel like I imagined it but they did fire him didn't they? How does he keep coming back? Nightmare is making little sense where they are drawing lines.

This feels like it should have had more time to stew and get a bigger reaction. It's quite the character lore drop but Coco said Nuts was his best friend, does that mean they are brothers to? They don't really look a like, aside both being squirrel like...how does that work?

Gets by, by pretending to be a cat or a dog... but not a rabbit? How does anyone mistake Milk for a cat with a tail like that? And why is she carrying that suitcase around with her everywhere?

EP 22

At least some one among them is good at thinking up on the fly excuses for things. You'd think between five of them, one of them would have picked up a knack for it by now? Still, if he's a legitimate teacher, then where is he getting his free time? Don't you have work to be marking?

Low blow trade but it was a good try but she does have the misfortune of being in a magical girl show, and that's just not in the 101 guide.

Excuse me, Milk only showed up last ep, you've known her all but five mins, getting quite a bit a head of yourselves here aren't you?

O.o Does she actually appear in Yes? Or is this just all set up got the sequel? (Although, I heard that they do a poor job of following each other?)

The odd faces are back but no where near as bad as they were in the early episodes.

The show keeps setting up theses problems and they are fair problems in the context of things but then scarcely ever resolve them by the time the ep is over. Milk feeling useless because she's just too small and can't compete with the human girls... you would think then, they'd find something or some way Milk can help, even if it's behind the scenes so that she has a purpose to but nope, we end the ep still on square one.

Although next week will hit half way and I'll admit, it does look curious.

[stevie-petey]

The way you write fights amazes me. And I have so so much to say about chapter one.

First of all you set everything up perfectly. I can see how Nancy is going to play into the conflict with Steve and bug. Steve feels left behind by bug and Nancy feels abandoned by Jonathan. Steve's fear of bug leaving him hurt me to my core, but I understand where bugs coming from. She doesn't want Steve to resent her for "taking him away" from everything he knows. She doesn't want her life with Steve to fall apart. She doesn't want to be like her father but her holding onto that resentment, fear and guilt is going to fuck up her relationships. You made it so believable with Dustin and bug. Bug was hurt by her brother and was upset with him mindlessly following Eddie around, without meaning to she pushed him more towards Eddie. I love that you don't hide bugs faults, and you always make both sides of the argument valid. How will Robin react to Steve and bugs fight? Will she be included when the murders first start or will Dustin's anger keep her out of the loop and feeling more abandoned? Also, OH MY FUCKING GOD THE JONATHAN PHONE CALL!!!!! As the self appointed president and member of the J.N.U ( jug nostalgia unit) THAT SENT ME INTO A SPIRAL! It also hurts because Jonathan still loves Nancy, and I feel like these "feelings" are only coming back because he misses his life before. He thinks everything went wrong after he left bug because it was different and new and that was hard on him. He doesn't necessarily want bug back, he misses when things were easy. He wants things to be easy again, and he's connecting bug with his life before. He thinks bug= easy/happiness when that's not necessarily the case. Or maybe he does have feelings for her, I just feel like they aren't coming from the right place. I do wonder if he'll remember when he sobers up, I feel like he would cause that's probably the first time bug hung up on him. He probably told argyle and argyle would remind him what he said and Jon would freak out. Bug probably feels so guilty about it. She's so worried about Nancy and Steve. Not only them but the whole party would fall apart. And bug would feel responsible. So she's holding all these feelings inside and we know what happens then😶. I feel so bad for my baby girl. I really like that alex started to sit with her. She deserves company after all she does for everyone else.

my dear anon u nailed everything so perfectly it makes me so :)) because you GET IT !!! you always understand my characters so well i love you for it sm

bug and steves fight is my roman empire because NEITHER were in the wrong. it ISNT fair of steve to place his entire future on bugs shoulder and it ISNT fair of bug to allow her past trauma to dictate how she reacts. she also shouldve put more thought into her relationship with steve and college. did she really think steve would just be a little toy that stays behind ??? he deserves more than that and she realized as much in this chapter lmao. robin and steve have a scene later about the fight so dw bbg i will explain it all soon <333

same goes for bug and dustin !!! for this one im more team dustin purely because bug IS being a little too possessive, but she also has always had her brother in her corner. him growing up and changing is jarring to her. and i loved exploring the faults with her !!!

jon :( i would love to be a member of the jnu pls </3 you so wonderfully explained everything and i cant say too much because i dive into the fight a bit more later, but youre right. jonathan misses when things were easy and in his mind: bug is easy. what they have is easy, but this doesnt mean its RIGHT. he misses how things were, jon hasnt really grown up yet like bug has. hes been left behind, almost. stuck in the past and hes really struggling. the feelings def arent coming from the right place just like steves feelings werent in season 2 :(

also shoutout to alex fr i love adding him in every season hes my own silly character who adds nothing to the plot except be funny and cool. a real one