#u know aaron painted that wall

[clonehub]

the day he became uncle

[writer1queenjaysblog]

I l o v e y o u!

(Yandere 4 town! Head cannons *smut warning ⚠️! )

•Ruby was the first girl in her home town to say she knows one of the 4town members

Her and Robaire knew each other since 1st grade.

•Robaire is very protective and can not let Ruby go anywhere by herself such as the store and elsewhere. He is very strict and a little controlling but he's reasonably.

•Is a perfectionist everything must be right for in his mind will make her happy but in reality she doesn't care like if a plate or something being out of place.

•Jesse is a romantic man and when it comes to his Ruby he can get violent and deadly

•She's his muse and he had 104 paintings of her and he has 200 to 304 pictures pf her in his phone and he uses them to paint.

•Loves looking at her and touching her, he and Robaire fight over her constantly like who's going to take her out on a date, who's cooking her favorite, and who gets to spoil her for the month.

•Their all deeply obsessed with her especially Aaron T and Z, they follow her everywhere and fantasize about her 24/7 and unlike Jesse and Robaire they don't argue about that much.

• Aaron Z is a cuddle bug and loves to hold her close to him when their watching a movie, tv show, or laying in bed. He kisses her neck, lips, cheeks, and on her body everywhere.

•Tae young is the most cutest yet manipulating his darling with his cute face and innocent facade he puts on.

He doesn't look like it but he can over power anyone who think they can beat him in a fight.

•Tae Young has a neat yet big knives and pocket knives collection in his room in a box which comes in handy if he needs to kill a rival and he always gets the same pocket knife but of different colors and designs so if the police ask him he'll denie it by cleaning it and then hide it in a unknown spot

•Aaron T is surprisingly strong 💪 he doesn't seem as ripped unless he take off his shirt and his muscles are shown shocking everyone. He can pick Ruby up easily and run off from the other members with ease

Ruby: "T put me down! Babe put me down!"

Aaron T: "Hmm..nope! 😃 😊 "

•Aaron T loves to kiss and hug Ruby that she laughs when he kisses her neck. He knows how to make her laugh and smile but if be sees someone else doing this it's war!

He's definitely the jealous type and won't hesitate to knock someone out for his baby girl.

•Robaire will lock her in his room if she tries to escape from him and he'll pin her down looking at her with those green eyes "You can't escape me or my love..mon amour I will always love you."

•Jesse is very protective and obsessive of Ruby and he tells her that he acts the way he does because he loves her and that he would do anything for her including murder.

"My love I'll do anything for you baby I love so much , my ex wife could never win me back no matter what she saids and does."

"Really?" "Yes I'm yours..and yours alone babe."

(Smut !🥵🥵🥵)

♡ Their sizes

•Jesse 9 inches

•Robaire 10 1/2

• Tae Young 7 inches

•Aaron T 8 inches

• Aaron Z 11 1/2 inches

♡ Aaron Z surprisingly has high stamina due to be active because of sports and work outs he do. He's strong enough to pick her up during sex or just take her from room to room

The others: *watching TV*

Aaron Z: *walking in the room with Ruby over his shoulder *

Ruby: " I told him I wasn't eating and he can't make me move into the kitchen so he can feed me and now we're here."

Jesse: "Baby you have to eat and take care of yourself also z how long are you going to hold my baby girl?"

Aaron Z: "Til bedtime plus she's sleeping in My bed tonight. "

♡Jesse is very clingy and won't let her out of his sight for a moment and he loves painting and drawing her no other woman can become his muse for the canvas let alone the camera.

♡ He's also a photographer and takes photos among lots of photos of her after sex and will keep them in a scrap book or in his wallet, phone, or on his wall next to a painting of her.

♡After sex Tae Young will cuddle with her and talk sweetly to her saying romantic sweet things in Korean. Robaire does the same in French.

♡Aaron T loves to tie her up and go rough and crazy along with aggressive which she loves.

♡Aarron Z and Tae Young like to talk dirty and naughty 😏 to Ruby in Korean since his mom is Korean 🇰🇷 and his dad is afro-german 🇩🇪

So this means that they have threesomes more often

♡Sixsomes happens a lot and sometimes she is unable to walk, sometimes she walks with a limp and some love marks on her body.

"You'll never escape us darling no matter what you do."

"Because mi amor we"

"Love you baby girl. "

"You don't know what you've done to me baby."

"I'm crazy about you babe really baby I am...I'll happily make you my second wife my beautiful muse~."

[faebriel]

KAI KAI KAI KAI WHAT DID U THINK ABOUT INTO THE SPIDERVERSE WHAT R UR THOUGHTS !!!!!

IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING GOOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im going to organise my thoughts into......a numbered list

THE ANIMATION !! okay we all say it we all said it but it is GENUINELY so unique and jaw dropping and gorgeous. i am so so so in awe of a film that is so confident with its design choices. the final fight in the collider drives me nuts bc like its a tense scene its the climax its a big deal and its in the most beautiful colours you've ever seen i'm so obsessed

also the character designs are FANTASTIC

i love miles so so much oh my god he's got so much on his plate but he just grows into it.................i love his art i legit teared up at the end when his dad offered to come with him to paint.......wahh :') i am so obsessed with that part in the fight at the end where he pulls off that badass fuckin spiderman move and gwen is like i didnt teach him that. you didnt teach him that like DUDE HE'S FREAKIN SPIDERMAN HE'S THIS UNIVERSE'S SPIDERMAN I !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay so going into the movie i knew that miles' uncle died BUT I DIDN'T KNOW...................THAT HE WAS THE PROWLER (<- doesnt read the comics) legit after the like. second scene? with aaron i said to my partner (has seen it three times) wow wouldnt it be sooo dramatic if his uncle was the prowler. i mean it matches up weirdly doesn't it. "engineering job" am i right lol. and they were like UMMMMMMMMMMM

SPEAKING OFFFFFF that scene is so so good. the fuckin soundtrack when they're in aaron's apartment is so good

ACTUALLY FUCK YEAH THE SOUNDTRACK???? literally this morning i was like Pull Up The Bangers. obviously the soundtrack slaps but i am sooo obsessed with the bass and synths in the score. especially in the fight scene and yea as aforementioned the prowler scene

when miles and aaron are on the roof. wough

just in general i'm definitely hitting up ao3 for like every fic ever on miles and his dad and his uncle i. god. that scene where miles' dad is talking to him through the door NAD AND AT THE END !! WHEN FISK IS BEATING HIM UP !!! AND HE LOOKS DOWN AND SEES HIS DAD !!!!! did i go back and watch the scene where miles hugs his dad as spiderman at the end like a million times Yes i did

THE WHAT'S UP DANGER SCENE....................I LITERALLY HELD OFF ON WATCHING EVEN CLIPS OF IT FOR FOUR YEARS AND IT WAS SO WORTH.............its so so fucking good AND AND !! he said he was better at running and HE RUNS he uses the webslinging as a support but he does his own thing and like wough the way miles draws upon his universe's peter and what peter b taught him but HE MAKES IT HIS OWN.................im punching at the walls its the best best best thing ever

doc ock big gay

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch3

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter Summary: Everyone has opinions, Eden is Lonely™, and grocery shopping late at night is the best way to fight off a panic attack in Gotham City. Nothing bad could possibly happen. Nothing at all.

Warning: anxiety/panic attacks, canon-typical violence (attempted assault), nonchalance towards death/dying, swearing, blood

—

Chapter 3:

Eden was an actress in a big city, not a baker on a farm. But she grew up in a bakery on a farm, and over the years she'd amassed a long laundry list of things to do on said farm that helped ease her nerves. She'd always loved that simple things like taking long walks, racing horses, bucking hay, cleaning stalls, shooting targets, blasting music, and putting in extra time at the bakery were enough to clear her head and calm her racing mind. But in Gotham, those simple things were incredibly hard to come by.

There were no fields or woods to walk through near her apartment. No horses to ride or bales of hay to chuck. No stalls or animals to tend to. There must've been a shooting range or two somewhere in the city, but she didn’t have the time, nor money, to go to one every time she felt frazzled. All she had here was music and baking, and even then she had to compromise.

With thin walls surrounding her, she couldn't belt her heart out or freely crank music high enough to shake her bones. She had neighbors to consider! (Even if they rarely seemed to consider her.) And baking only calmed her down when she could really get lost in the process. That was easy when you could, say, whip up ten loaves of bread for tomorrow's hungry customers. But Eden was only one person. She couldn't eat more than a single loaf of bread or helping of muffins or whathaveyou in a week without making herself sick, and only making one batch of something was rarely enough to settle her down. 

She needed to figure out something to do in this city. And quick. Because otherwise, she was going to drown.

Ever since finding that note from Red Hood, Eden had been bubbling with the urge to tell someone about their encounter. She almost called home to tell Kit or one of the boys. Almost. But that would’ve meant telling them where she was, explaining how she got there, and admitting what had happened in the days before she left. She wasn’t ready for that talk yet. She was especially not ready for Mama to know anything. Granted, she probably already knew more than Eden wanted her to, but talking to someone else back home would only guarantee it.

Eden couldn't risk that. So she settled on telling her coworkers instead.

The morning after the whole fiasco, Eden waited for their first break to tell her tale. She got about two sentences in when—

“Hold up,” one of the girls, GG, said suddenly. “You met the Red Hood last night?”

Eden nodded. “Yeah, outside my apartment,” she said again. It sounded better than saying on her fire escape.

“Whoa. You’re lucky to be alive!”

“I... What?”

“Don’t be an idiot, G,” one of the guys, Aaron, said. “Everyone knows Red Hood stopped killing people ages ago.”

“You seriously believe that?” she scoffed. “The guy was a mob boss. Decapitating gang lords and collecting their heads.”

“What?” Eden yelped, glancing frantically between the two of them. 

GG ignored her. “You really think he just, what, gave all that up? Give me a break.” 

“He works with Batman,” Aaron said rolling his eyes. “He’s one of the good guys.”

“If he was really a ‘good guy’,” she said making air-quotes, “he wouldn’t be shooting people up every night.”

"He’s not killing anybody," he pshawed, flicking his wrist to shoo the notion away. “Honestly, I wish he was killing people still. Gotham was so much safer then."

GG shook her head at him, clearly annoyed. Eden blinked at them, mouth open wide with questions on her tongue, but the director called for everyone to wrap it up. GG grumbled something at Aaron as they walked back to the stage area, and he glared at her, but rehearsal continued without any more talk of Red Hood.

Eden probably should’ve gotten the hint there, that maybe she should keep the night's events to herself, but she couldn’t help herself. Now she really wanted to tell someone about what had happened. It was ridiculous enough before, but hearing the vigilante she'd given cookies to – who'd helped her through a panic attack – was actually an ex-killer? A former mob boss who collected people’s heads? It was a whole new level of bizarre! She could barely wrap her head around it!

The whole thing fogged her mind for the rest of the day. When everyone was finally dismissed, she nearly exploded as she and a few others left for the subway station.

"I met Red Hood last night!" she announced.

"Ooo, lucky!" one of the leads said. "He's so cool!"

"Yeah, he—" 

"He's not cool, Marsha," another lead, Veronica, interrupted to chide her friend. "He's a killer."

"Was a killer," one of the guys said. "He's a good guy now. He doesn't do that anymore."

"Yeah, he does," someone else argued. "Just not in Gotham."

"That's not true."

"Is too! And he's a total badass for it!"

They went into a detailed retelling of one of Red Hood's 'badass' exploits, complete with sound effects for the guns and explosions. One of the guys told a different story, painting the things Red Hood did as inexcusable and unforgivable. Someone else mentioned their younger sister getting a Red Hood toy from a fast food joint not too long ago. Veronica called that despicable and said it sent kids the wrong message; someone else said she was being too judgemental.

Eden listened quietly to them all, captivated by the native Gothamites' nonchalance as they went back and forth on the violent, graphic things Red Hood had done and how they each felt about it. Eventually, one of the girls, Marsha, scoffed and began explaining in detail all the good that had come from the vigilante's not-so-good deeds. The conversation got more intense as the group started to debate more seriously on whether or not Red Hood's actions were truly justifiable. A few passersby even added their two cents while the group was waiting to cross the street. It nearly turned into a full-on brawl when they started arguing if he was, could be, or ever should be considered a hero after all he'd done.

Eden could only stand there, flabbergasted by it all. Somehow she felt even more like a fish out of water than the day she'd first arrived in Gotham. Which, considering she'd stepped off that bus with only half a plan, a backpack full of belongings, and the duffel bag filled with Frank's cash, was saying a lot.

She watched them argue as long as she could — until she absolutely had to leave to catch her train. The group showed no signs of stopping.

“Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

Talk about an understatement! Red Hood must've known how contested he was. Everyone in Gotham seemed to have a strong opinion regarding him and that... that was bad. Continuing to bring him up was bound to get Eden into some kind of trouble sooner or later. More trouble. That was the last thing she needed right now. As disappointing as it was, she knew she had to drop the whole thing and just keep it to herself...

But it was such a ridiculous experience! She'd met a vigilante – an apparently very dangerous vigilante – randomly on her fire escape. He helped her fight off a panic attack! She made him laugh— laugh! She made Gotham's big, scary, shoot-y vigilante laugh! And she gave him cookies! And he liked them enough to write her a damn note! And he was an ex-MOB BOSS! It was impossible! It was hysterical! And it— it—

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter. She couldn't risk getting into any sort of hot water here. Maybe if she actually had someone to talk to in this city, somebody she could trust, it would be different. But she didn't have anybody like that. So it didn't matter. She was alone and had nobody; the story would die with her and that was that.

A dismal ache punctured her chest. Eden was alone. She... hadn't realized how true it was until just now. She had nobody in this city. Nobody to talk to, no one to confide in... Not even with something as small and ridiculous as what had happened with Red Hood... 

For the first time in her life, Eden was truly and completely alone.

The glowing, blissful solitude she’d reveled in for months was gone. Painful, heart-wrenching loneliness swallowed it whole. She had nobody. She had nobody. And it was all her fault.

For over a week, the tiny notebook she’d stored everyone's numbers in taunted her. Every night she sat at her small kitchen table flipping through its pages. She debated over whether or not to save them into her new phone or, heaven forbid, call one of them. Until, finally, it was too much.

She would throw the notebook, and her phone, into the depths of her closet to stop the temptation. She would drown out her thoughts with painfully loud music. She would throw herself onto her mattress on the floor and scream into a pillow in an attempt to get everything out. Then, when she was too exhausted to do anything else, she would drift into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The next night, she would do the same thing over again. And again. It was an awful, vicious cycle — much like her encores.

Tonight looked like it would be no different. Sitting again at her small, scruffy kitchen table, Eden bounced her knee and stared at the notebook. In her hands, she fumbled with the phone she’d bought with Frank’s money.

She debated, yet again, on whether or not to sabotage everything. Was giving everything up worth not feeling so damn lonely anymore? Was she so desperate to just talk to somebody she'd risk telling her family about everything she'd done before she was ready? Would she ever be ready? What if she wasn't? What then? Would she have to feel this way forever?

Eden stood abruptly, her chair legs scraping across the floor. She started pacing.

Her apartment was small. A single room shaped like an awkward U. One small room that wasn't even half the size of the barn. One small, damned room with no woods, no creek, no nothing out back to walk through. No fields, no pastures, no space to breathe in. Just a single, small, damned room.

Eden's hands shook as her headphones blared. There were no horses in Gotham. No animals at all. No hay, no stalls, no targets. No creek, no woods, no family. No friends. No nothing. No one. Just Eden.

Eden. All alone.

The thin walls around her got smaller and smaller until, finally, she could take it no more. Eden ripped off her headphones and threw them at her bed. She carelessly stuffed her wallet, keys, and a can of mace into her coat pockets as she hurried out the door. She left her phone on the table. Bringing it with her wasn’t a good idea right now. She couldn't trust herself; there were too many numbers she knew by heart.

She marched loudly down the dark streets, channeling her wild, palpable energy into something that could resemble rage. It was a long trek to the store but thankfully there weren’t many people out. Those who were took one look at Eden charging down the sidewalk – looking like a demon on a warpath – and quickly turned their heads. She was grateful.

The old man working the checkout didn’t make any small talk when she walked in – people here rarely made small talk – but he quirked a thick brow in her direction. He quirked it again when she only set down eggs, flour, sugar, vanilla extract, and yeast in front of him.

“Stress baking,” Eden told him.

He looked from her to the poorly lit streets beyond the store's barred windows. Then the old man nodded slowly like maybe she was crazy. Which was fair.

This was Gotham. It was nighttime. And she definitely felt crazy.

“Good luck,” he murmured, handing her her bags.

“Thank you.”

The walk back was harder. Worse, because her hands were full; no matter how angry she acted, she was still clearly vulnerable. That made everything feel darker and colder than it had before.

Even fewer people were out now, but Eden was easy prey. Some men took advantage and catcalled her as she passed. A few even followed her down a handful of streets, heckling and laughing while she reprimanded herself. 

Why couldn't she have just gone through with her usual routine? It was unsatisfying, yes, but safe. Why hadn’t she just gone to the store tomorrow? She could've broken the cycle then, when it was safe to go out. Not now. Not right now. What in the world made her think leaving her apartment right now – in Gotham City, at night, in this neighborhood – was not only a good idea, but her only sane one? Had she been possessed?

Eden's heart pounded fiercely in her chest. Her vision tunneled. The sidewalk stretched further and further into the night, never letting her closer to home no matter how fast she walked.

“Excuse me!” she chirped as she nearly ran into someone turning the corner. A pair of men looked down at her, surprised.

Eden ducked her head and scurried away, grimacing. Nobody in Gotham excuses themselves like that. Nobody in this neighborhood excuses themselves at all. It was a rookie mistake.

“Hey, wait a minute!” one of them called after her. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

“You lost, pretty girl?” the other crooned, sounding closer. “Need some help finding your way?”

“No, I—” Eden snapped her mouth shut and moved faster.

Don’t talk back, she told herself firmly. Don’t engage with them. And whatever you do, do not be Louanne Smith’s daughter. Or Frank’s. Definitely don’t be Frank’s. You’ll only get yourself—

“Here, beautiful. Lemme help you with that.”

“Fuck off!” Eden shrieked, jerking away from the man and firmly planting her feet on the ground. The burly men shared an eager grin as they moved closer.

Well. At least she’d tried not being her parents' daughter.

“Boys,” she said slowly.“I appreciate the offer. Really. I'm downright flattered." Her voice dripped with an eerie mixture of danger and hospitality — something she’d picked up from her mother. "But I'm not interested. So why don't y'all skedaddle on home, hm?"

The bald one furrowed his brows.

The other scoffed. “It's too bad you feel that way, sweetheart.” He pulled out a knife. “Cuz we ain’t offering.”

His friend started to chuckle, leering at Eden like she was their next meal. She just stared at the knife, looking bored.

She stood as tall and proud as Frank had taught her but tried to treat the situation as her mother might — like the knife and their ogling and their heavy builds meant nothing to her. Acting as if her body was a far more potent weapon than anyone could fully comprehend. But that's all it was. An act. On the inside, her heart was racing faster than lightning. 

Where was her mace? Somewhere deep in the crevasses of her coat pockets? Had to be. Was it too late to start digging for it? Probably. Scrambling for it would just make her more vulnerable than she already was.

She cursed silently as she tossed her bags aside, careful not to disturb the eggs too much. Had she ever successfully wrestled a knife out of somebody’s grasp? Yes. Without getting stabbed first? Maybe, but it certainly wasn’t her strong suit. None of this was. That’s why she did do stuff like this. She only got herself killed trying. At least it was a knife this time and not a gun.

Her mind, already in a frenzy, jumped back to that fight with Chris Henriksen. Her shoes skidding against the gravel of the diner’s parking lot as he tried to swing her off him. His finger on the trigger while she tried to twist the gun out of his grip. The gun firing, him shrieking in pain. His hand free, aiming at her.

A ring of shots. Sudden, ripping pain.

Her, against the gravel. Him, standing over her. The gun, cocked. Him—

“Fuck off!” she screeched again, louder this time. “I’m warning you, shitbags! I’m not afraid of you or your stupid fucking knife!”

The one with the knife grabbed her by the shirt. He pressed the blade into her neck. “You shut that filthy mouth of yours, you dirty fucking bitch," he growled. "Or I'll give you something to be afraid of."

Eden stared him down. She glared at the other man, thinking. Could she win this fight? Two big, burly men against little ol' her? Maybe. Could she end it quickly though? Definitely. But it would cost her.

The man's eyes traveled downward. He licked his lips and Eden scowled.

Fuck it. She wasn't playing this game.

Eden lurched into action, grabbing for the knife — trying to bring it closer to her neck.

“Hey, you fucking psych—" Eden slammed her knee into him, cutting him off. He doubled over as she tried to steal the knife from his hold. The second man grabbed her like a vice, nearly crushing her arm as he yanked her away from his friend.

Eden kicked and screamed and thrashed against him. She smashed the back of her skull against his nose. He swore loudly as he dropped her, clutching his face. She grabbed his arm and yanked him by the shoulder, swinging him over her like a huge sack of potatoes. His back hit the sidewalk and he let out a loud, satisfying, "Oof!"

The first man grabbed Eden again and flung her into the wall beside them. She turned just in time to see the knife sailing down toward her. 

It wouldn’t kill her. She knew that. A single stab wound rarely killed a person. She'd been stabbed enough times to know that. It would take a few more swings.

Her death tonight would be long and painful.

She shut her eyes tight, wishing it could already be over. An encore was better than the alternative but... the pain was her least favorite part. 

She wondered if anyone on this street would bother calling the police. Hopefully, they wouldn’t. She didn't want to deal with that. She didn't know how to deal with that. Not without her family there to help her out. 

More importantly, would anyone try to steal her groceries? Hopefully, not. That would be the real tragedy of the night. Maybe her dead body would deter thieves. Or at least make them—

BANG!

Eden shrieked and the man in front of her howled.

She opened her eyes. The man staggered away from her, clutching his bloody, bleeding hand to his chest. Eden pressed herself further against the wall and slid down, trying to make herself as small as possible. His blood-drenched knife lay a few feet away. She grabbed it and held it tightly; the palm of her left hand wet and burning.

The man looked up – high, up toward the sky – and paled. Fear overtook his features and he turned, screaming bloody murder as he ran. His partner was already halfway down the street, swearing frantically.

A gun went off again, twice. Eden flinched at the sound.

Her attackers kissed the concrete as they fell. Once they hit the cold hard ground, they didn’t move. She didn’t move either. If they were already dead there was nothing she could do for them anyway. And even if they weren’t, she was more than happy to let them bleed out on the silent, empty street.

Eden inhaled deeply, trying to calm her shaken nerves, but couldn’t catch her breath. Her heart thundered in her chest as something wet dribbled down her shirt, down her fingertips. The world swayed and her body slunk over, falling completely against the building.

Was she still going to die? That didn’t seem fair.

Then again, the universe didn’t care what people thought was fair. It had its own rules; the number one being that it did what it wanted.

Eden stared at her groceries, unable to focus on anything else. She silently begged the universe to leave them alone. If she had to die right now, going to the store again was uncalled for. The universe would just be kicking her while she was down. If it could just give her this one, little, tiny sliver of kindness, she would be happy. She didn't need anything else. Just let her die and her groceries stay by her side. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey,” a sudden voice said at her side. “You okay?”

—

Chapter 4

[scribbleb-red]

Hello Ghost (An Afternoon Andreil AU)

After college, the Minyard-Hemmicks sell up in South Carolina and Andrew is signed by the Baltimore Bombers.

He buys a house on the outskirts of Leakin Park, it's pretty grand but he has a vision of inviting his family to stay, one day, perhaps.

The house is also more than a bit run down (which is why Andrew figures it was a good price). 

He starts to fix the place up. New paint. New floors. New windows. 

But then weird stuff starts happening. 

Food he was sure was in the fridge disappears. Stationary and paints will vanish from almost under his nose. Tools go missing only to reappear somewhere else. And clothes too (he is sure he brought his favourite black hoodie with him from SC, and Aaron swears he hasn't got it...). 

He starts to hear noises - not loud, just like shuffling, sliding, sometimes like a door is creaking open.

Andrew has nearly done the ground floor when he thinks he's found the answer - navy paint paw prints - all across his freshly stripped and varnished wood floor. 

He won't lie, they're kind of cute. The creature must have knocked over the feature-wall paint.

But then, one day after practice, he comes home and takes off his headphones and he's sure he can hear humming. Whatever animal the pawprints came from, he's sure most of them won't know Bohemian Rhapsody.

He creeps up the stairs, it's pretty tatty up here still. The only room he's really bothered is his own. There are rooms he's barely opened since he arrived - particularly the one that looks like it once belonged to a kid (the yellow clown wallpaper *has* to come down soon).

The humming is coming from the main bathroom. 

His hand hovers over the handle. 

He presses down. 

The door swings open. 

 He swears he sees a flash of red. Blue eyes in the mirror. 

But when he pushes inside, nothing and no one is there. 

"The actual fuck??" he mutters.

The actual fuck is right. 

Over the next few weeks Andrew becomes increasingly paranoid. Summer has bled into autumn and he is pretty sure he's being haunted. 

There is a ghost in this house. There is a ghost in these walls.

He talks to Aaron who just shrugs and tells him to call an exterminator if he has rats in the walls. Andrew is sure there aren't rats in the walls. That's not what he's hearing. Rats don't have nice tenor voices that hum Queen and Blue Oyster Cult through the piping. 

He talks to Nicky, who freaks out because omg Andrew you have to get out before the ghosts turn violent Andrew, you don't know what kind of ghost it is Andrew, what if you piss it off by accident Andrew. Maybe you can get an exorcist Andrew. Or salt? Isn't salt bad for ghosts?

He calls Kevin, who frowns down the line. 

"Are you okay, Minyard? Not getting rattled now you're in the pros?" 

No, Andrew is not rattled. He's doing fucking great for the Bombers. 

"Then get some sleep and... maybe call Bee?"

Great so Kevin thinks he's mad.

He calls the estate agent last. Though really he should have called them first.

"There's something wrong with this house," he says. "Tell me what's wrong with this house." 

"Oh dear." The estate agent is very anxious. "I'm so sorry, Mr Minyard. I thought everyone knew."

Turns out everyone except him did know. Andrew's grand house that he got for basically pennies was once the home of the Butcher of Baltimore. Andrew missed the memo though, too busy getting his brother clean and surviving the mood-meddling, court-prescribed drugs at the time.

"I'm so very sorry," says the estate agent. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, but I do know a good geomancer who could feng shui the property for you." 

 Andrew slams down the phone. 

 So he has a ghost in his house. 

 Probably a murder ghost too. 

 Fuck.

He decides that if he's going to get rid of his ghost, he's going to have to figure out what exactly the ghost is taking, when and why. He starts keeping track in a little notebook. He quickly notices something even weirder than the missing stuff though.

The ghost takes food - not a huge amount - but enough each week. It's mostly fruit and vege, the occasional protein bar. If Andrew makes smoothies from fruit, the ghost will take some. And sometimes the ghost will make smoothies itself and leave half for Andrew.

The ghost launders any of the clothes it borrows. Not everything is returned. But socks will miraculously reappear. So will tshirts and sometimes jumpers. The black hoodie has not made a reappearance. But his woollen winter jumper does, with the elbow holes freshly darned.

The ghost showers. Andrew has noticed more than once that the bathroom mirror is misted and the towels damp when they shouldn't be.

The ghost leaves red hair behind, long curls of it.

The ghost is probably not a ghost. Or if they are, they're a very very corporeal one.

He decides maybe - just maybe - he could lure the ghost out. 

After a shower one day, he writes on the misted mirror:  HELLO GHOST. 

The next day, the ghost leaves a reply: HI HUMAN. 

 Andrew frowns and scrubs the note away.

He goes out to buy clothes for the ghost - no need for them to nick his favourite stuff if they have their own right? 

He leaves the bag in the bathroom and writes: THE BAG IS FOR YOU. 

The next day he sees: THANK U. 

The day after: CAN I HV A TOOTHBRUSH? 

Andrew buys one, even though the ghost writes like a fuckboi.

When he comes home from a long weekend of away matches, the toothbrush is used and wet. There's a Smiley on the mirror in the the mist. Andrew scowls. And he realises the ghost is near - because there's a shuffle, a sigh & for a second he's sure the shadows behind him move.

Andrew and the Ghost fall into a rhythm. 

Sometimes when the ghost needs something there will be a note on the bathroom mirror. Sometimes when the ghost is thankful, they'll leave homecooked left overs in the fridge for Andrew, presumably made when he's at practice.

Aaron asks him one day if he solved his rat problem. 

"It's a ghost problem,” Andrew tells him. “But yes, something like that."

For Christmas, Andrew goes to visit Nicky and Erik in Germany. 

It's three weeks away and he's so anxious about the flights, he forgets about his little ghost in the walls. 

He packs in a hurry. He turns off the lights. Turns down the heating. Locks the doors.

The holiday itself is good. Nicky is thriving now he's back with his boyfriend and Andrew almost feels bad that he kept Nicky from being this happy for so many years. Almost. Because he wouldn't trade those years with Nicky and Aaron for anything. 

He goes home, content.

As soon as he opens the front door, he knows something is wrong. 

It's freezing cold. So cold his breath is vapours on the air. 

There's a smell too, stale and fetid. Like old fruit. 

And that's when he sees him, the ghost.

The ghost is a boy, but he certainly looks half dead. 

He's sprawled on Andrew's new sofa. He's all bones. Emaciated to a point where he looks childish. His skin is sickly pale. His hair is dank and plastered to his forehead. His eyes are closed.

Andrew drops his bag and the ghost's eyes flutter open, just a slither before closing again. 

The ghost is sick. Incredibly sick.

Andrew calls Aaron. 

"My ghost is sick," is the first thing he says. "He has a fever. I don't know what's wrong with him." 

Aaron doesn't pretend to understand, he just lists off ways to bring down a fever. "I can be there in the morning," he tells Andrew. "Just --"

-- Aaron stops short. He can't tell Andrew to keep a ghost alive can he? 

Andrew does what he can. He lifts his ghost up into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the sweaty, sick smell rolling off him. He's far too light and far too small.

Andrew tucks him into his own bed.

He finds a can of fizzy lemonade and brings it upstairs to the ghost. He's barely stirred but as Andrew cracks open the can, the ghost lets out the tiniest of whimpers and it breaks Andrew's heart.

Carefully, he nudges the ghost awake and helps him to drink some of the lemonade. 

"Bring up his sugar levels. Make sure he has plenty of fluids. Anything cold to bring down his temperature." 

It takes nearly an hour for the ghost to drink the lemonade.

Andrew doesn't sleep that night. Doesn't stop applying cold flannels. Checks his temperature every 30 minutes. 

"You better not become a real ghost, Ghost," he warns the boy in his bed. "I want my fucking hoodie back."

Aaron arrives and it’s a good thing he's just finished his rotation in the ER because Andrew's ghost is a young man with one of the worst cases of pnuemonia he's seen in a while. He calls up a professor and explains why he needs a prescription for a variety of medications.

He's able to get them within the morning and they set Andrew's room up to be a hospital bed minus the bleepity-bloopety machines. 

Andrew finally sleeps when Aaron forces him to - but only for a couple hours before he's back at the ghost's side. 

Two days go by.

Ghost wakes up. 

For all that he looks like he hasn't eaten a full meal in his life, his eyes are the most striking Andrew has ever seen in his life. They are coldest blue, like a winter's sky. 

"Hello Ghost," Andrew says. 

"Hi Human," replies the ghost.

Ghost recovers slowly. He sleeps a lot. Andrew cooks for him. Makes him eat soups and broths and slowly reintroduces solids. 

Turns out when Andrew left, he'd locked Ghost inside with only enough food in the cupboards for a week. 

Ghost managed to make it last 12 days.

But with the heating off, Ghost had shivered his way into sickness. 

Andrew asks him how the hell he's been haunting his house when he's clearly not a ghost. Ghost frowns. 

"The walls," he says. "He built the walls too thick so they could hide escape routes." 

 "The Butcher?"

Ghost nods. He's so pale. Andrew presses because he knows there's a secret here and Ghost finally admits: "He was my father." 

The pieces fall into place as Ghost recovers. His name is actually Nathaniel but every time Andrew uses it, Ghost flinches.

Andrew moves Ghost out of the walls where he used to hide and into the house. 

"Why didn't you leave after your father died?" Andrew asks one day over hot chocolate and coffee. 

They're curled up on the sofa, their feet overlapping but nothing else.

"Because he didn't die," Ghost says. "He was killed." 

And out comes the story of how Ghost lived in the house as his father's prisoner. How he was trapped and how he was punished the few times he tried to escape. 

 There are scars, Andrew has seen them. They make sense now.

"My mother escaped though. With millions that belonged to my father. A couple years ago my father killed her... my uncle came in retribution. He killed my father. I was there."  Ghost's voice is thick and raw. His eyes won't meet Andrew's. "He said he'd come back for me."

"He never came back," Andrew fills in the next line. 

"No." 

"But you stayed." 

"I've barely been outside before. I never... I had rations stored and I figured, it was safe here at least, now he was gone." 

"And then I arrived." 

"Yeah. And it was kinda nice. Being your ghost."

Andrew chest feels warm and full. "You're still my ghost," he says after a minute. 

And it's true. This boy from the walls is going to haunt Andrew forever - and he doesn't even mind.

Andrew learnt to live in increments, one breath at a time, one minute, one hour, one day. He'll teach Ghost to do the same, over years. 

They'll find a human name for Ghost. They'll settle on "Neil", a name untainted by the father who hurt him or the mother who left him.

They'll cook together in the evenings, brushing against each other in whispers.

They'll fall asleep together on sofas and then, later, in their shared bed. 

They'll move house together one day, when Andrew transfers to another team. 

One day Andrew is lying in bed next to Neil, tracing patterns over freckled skin and taut muscles. 

"I meant to ask, what was with the pawprints that time? With the paint on the floor?" 

And Neil looks puzzled, then smiles. "Maybe it really was a ghost."

THE END 

[zoequeenz]

Extreme Aggressor (Part 1)

A/N: Hi, so here is my Criminal Minds rewrite that I started a few years ago. I only have the first three episodes written and uploaded on my Wattpad and Quotev and I thought it would be interesting to try Tumblr out. Hopefully y’all enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Seattle, Washington

034321

Z4SALE: I’ll send you a picture of the car…

Z4SALE: New Paint. New tires. Not bad, huh?

HEATHER: Why so low on the price?

Z4SALE: Moving. Must sell ASAP. You up for a test drive?

Heather though nervous really needs that car. She quickly grabs her red umbrella and goes to the meetup spot. The red Datsun Z pulls up and honks twice to get her attention. She smiles impressed. The man gets out of the car to introduce himself. Due to the pouring rain the man has his hood over his head.

“Hey.”the seller says.

“Wow!” Heather says with clear amazement in her voice.

The man runs over to shake hands with Heather.

“Hey, I’m Heather.” She states.

“Nice to meet ya.” The man remarks.

Heather runs to the driver’s seat while the seller gets in the passenger’s spot. Once they are both in the car Heather takes off.

“It’s a 2.4 liter, 6-cylinder engine.” The seller notes in a flat tone.

“With Hitachi side-draft carbs.” Heather mentions while smiling.

“That’s right. Wanna take a look under the hood?” The man chuckles.

“Yeah!” Heather declares.

They pull over and get out to look under the hood.

“You know your Z’s. I’m impressed.” The man congratulated closing the hood of the car.

“You should have your mechanic check it out anyway.” He continues.

“Okay.” Heather says in a small voice.

“How ‘bout I leave you my number and we can set it up?” The driver tells Heather.

“Thank you.” Heather replies as he opens the door to the car so he can drive her back to her office.

As she gets in the driver removes the inside door lock and Heather is locked in the car. She points signalizing the way to go.

“So it’s just...right up here.” Heather pointing to the right.

The driver doesn’t stop.

“Oh! That was..”Heather chuckles.

“Hello! There was the right.” Heather attempts to explain.

But the man continues to drive down the street.

“Uh, maybe just...pull over here, and we can try a U-turn.” Heather says in a nervous voice  trying to make the man to drop her off at the meet up spot.

As the man continues to drive and ignore Heather she starts to get distressed.

“What are you doing?” Heather questions becoming more and more uncomfortable.

The man continues to drive and ignore Heather. Heather is starting to become even more scared.

“Okay. Stop the car. Pull over now!” Heather demands in a firm voice.

The man continues to drive. Heather looks out her window then looks down and notices that the inner door lock is gone and that it is lock. She turns to look at the man with fear in her eyes. The driver hits her in the face knocking her out and continues down the road.

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Aaron Hotchner’s POV

Washington, DC

“How ‘bout Andrew? It’s Greek for ‘valiant’.” Haley suggested.

Haley and I are trying to pick out a name for our new baby. We know it is a boy, the only problem is we can’t agree on a name.

“Let’s call him..Sergio.” I suggest with a smile on my face.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Haley chuckles.

“Butch?” I throw out.

“How about Donald?” She asks.

“Hans.” I say quickly.

“No! Wait, wait. Um...okay. Gideon.” She states.

“Not a chance.” I say walking over to her.

“It’s Hebrew. Look what it means. It’s perfect. Gideon Hotchner. Haley says trying to persuade me.

“No.” I say raising my eyebrows.

“Yes.” she repiles.

“No.” I tell her moving closer.

“Yes.” she declared.

“No.” I murmured kissing my wife.

“Gideon.” She ended.

My phone rings. Both Haley and I already knowing what that meant we kiss and hug just as I get a fax. When I get the paper it says missing person with the picture of Heather Woodland.

Derek Morgan’s POV

(At the bar with three women at a table.)

“It’s the 1940s. He put bombs in train stations and movie theaters.” I question the three women.

“Uh, the “Mad Bomber,” George Metesky.” The woman in the blue shirt said.

“Nice. The winners sit. Losers, drink.” I exclaimed in an impressed tone.

“Hold on. Metesky wasn’t a serial killer. None of his bombs ever killed anyone.” The woman in the red dress adds.

“Well, you think all we do is serial killers? Trust me, we cover the whole spectrum of psychos. We profiled the “DC Sniper,” the “Unbomber.” We do terrorists, arsonists-” I explain before I get cut off.

“Supervisory agents trying to get trainees drunk?” The woman in the red dress questions while nodding.

Then my cell rings. It’s from the BAU. The woman in the striped shirt looks over my shoulder at my phone.

“Wow. Behavioral Analysis Unit. You work with Gideon? Were you with him in Boston?” She woman asked me.

I look back and answer “ I was supposed to be.” I turn back around to answer “Yeah this is Morgan.”

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Jason Gideon’s POV

(A Projection of various of victims)

“Anyone recognize these faces?” I ask the class I am teaching.

“Victims of the “Footpath Killer.” I female student answers.

“That’s what Virginia newspapers are calling him. We refer to him as the UNknown SUBject or Unsub.” I tell the class. As agents we don’t like to give the Unsub a name it just doesn’t seem right.

The lights come back on in the classroom. I keep on explaining how we figured it out as pictures of the victims flashed on the screen behind me.

“I told Virginia PD we’re looking for a white male in his 20s… who owns an American-made truck in disrepair. Works a menial job. I told ‘em you find him… don’t be surprised to hear him speak with a severe stutter.”

“Not to sound skeptical, but come on… a stutter?” She questions.

“Where’d the murders occur? Hiking paths. Isolated. If I’m a killer who has to use an immediate application of overpowering force, even out in the middle of nowhere, I lack confidence. I can’t charm them into my car like Ted Bundy did. I can’t because I am ashamed of something.” I tell the class trying to get them to understand how I came to this conclusion.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

I’m sat at my desk filling out some paperwork when my best friend Spencer Reid comes up to my desk.

“Spencer I have told you this a thousand times, you can’t keep showing me physics magic Hotch already warned you once.” I tell him before looking up.

“Actually Persephone we have a case.”he tells me.

I look up and notice a two files in his hands. He hands one to me and I look it over. It talks about the disappearance of a woman named Heather Woodland.

“Hurry we have to go get Gideon.”he tells me as he waits for me to get up.

“No, you need to get Gideon you just don’t want to go alone.” I state.

“ I hate that you can read me like that.”he laughs.

As we walk down he gives me more information on the case. Once we get to the classroom Reid opens the door and taps the file with his hand to gets Gideon’s attention.

“Excuse me.”Gideon dismisses himself from the class and comes with us to be briefed.

“They’re calling him the “Seattle Strangler.” Spencer informs.

“Four victims in four months.” I add in.

“He keeps ‘em alive seven days.” Spencer continues.

“The handle serves as a crank.” I finish.

“Allowing him to control the rate of suffocation.” Gideon tells us.

“To prolong it?” Spencer asks.

“To enjoy it. Seattle’s hit a wall.” States Gideon.

“He gets pleasure out of suffocation?” I ask out loud.

“I would assume so Chase.” Gideon answers.

“Physical evidence is nonexistent. There are no tangible leads.”Spencer says just as we arrive at an office.

“And another girl missing.” Gideon says grabbing the photo from Spencer.

“I looked the case file over. I’ll get some thoughts to you ASAP.” Gideon tells us as he stand behind a desk.

“You’re gonna be with us in Seattle ASAP.” Hotch says entering the room with Morgan right behind him.

“Hey Little One. How have you been?” Derek asks me.

“I’ve been good, lots of paperwork it’s like I never leave the office.” I tell him while pulling him into a hug. He then turns around to show Gideon a picture of the victim Heather Woodland.

“22-year-old Heather Woodland.” He says handing Gideon the picture and taking a step back.

“Before she left for lunch, she downloaded an email with a time-delayed virus attached. The killer’s virus wiped her hard drive and left this on the screen.” Hotch informs us handing the message to Gideon.

They look at each other for a while before Gideon walks over to the wall and begins to read “For heaven’s sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself.” When he looks up we all look over at a picture on the wall. It says the same thing and under it, it reads “ William Heirens, Lipstick Killer, 1945.”

“He never keeps them for more than seven days, which means we have fewer than 36 hours to find her.” Hotch points out.

“They want you back out in the field. Are you ready?” I ask him remembering why he took a six month leave in the first place.

“Looks like medical leave’s over, boss.” Spencer adds.

“They sure they want me?” Gideon questions.

“The order came from the director.” Smirked Hotch.

“Well, we’d better get started.” Gideon says blankly.

As we drive to the airport I get in a car with Spencer and Gideon. It is silent for most of the ride which makes me uncomfortable because is seems too quiet. Spencer looks back at me and notices my discomfort.

“Hey Persephone, do you think it’s weird that we don’t have nicknames for each other.”Spencer asks me.

“Why would you ask me that?” I ask him.

“Well don’t best-friends give each other nicknames?” he asks me.

“If you want nicknames then we’ll have nicknames.” I declare smiling.

Spencer turns around smiling. He has told me of his high school days and they were bad. I wish I could’ve been there to be his friend but sadly I lived in Indiana. A small town but a good place to grow up because it was small and everyone knew each other.

We get to the airport runway in front of the jet and jump out to meet Hotch and Morgan. We walk towards the plane and get ready to go to Seattle.

“Joseph Conrad said, “The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.”

Hotch and a female agent exit the other car and head to the plane with us.

“This girl may only have 36 hours to live. We’re not asking for a judgement of Gideon. We want an assessment. We want to know you’re there to step in if he can’t perform. Are we clear?” she asks Hotch.

“Of course.” Hotch states.

He then joins us on the plane. Hotch comes to sit with me and Spencer. As we take off I look around. There weren’t many girls on the team which kinda sucked. No one to talk to about girl stuff. Our team has always been like this, well I have Garcia but she doesn’t come to the field with us she is a technical analyst for the team. After we’ve been up in the air for a few minutes Spencer begins to read the profile from beside me.

“His first victim was 26-year-old Melissa Kirsh. Stab wounds, strangulation.” Spencer told us.

“Wait,wait. Back up, back up. He stabbed her...and then strangled her to finish her off?””

“Why would he stab her then strangle her? The stabbing itself should’ve killed her if he left her there.” I state.

“Other way around. Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?” Gideon asks.

“Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe. He tried, probably found that it took too long…” Spencer tells us.

“So he stabbed her instead.” Derek finished for Spencer.

“And realized it would be hours cleaning up blood.” Hotch adds in.

“Next time, our boy’s got a method-- the belt.” Derek shares.

“He’s learning, perfecting his scenario. Becoming a better killer.” Gideon finishes.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Heather Woodland’s POV (Victim)

Where am I? Why is it so dark in here. There is tape over my mouth and eyes so I can’t see or speak but I can tell I’m in a wire cage when I feel around. I’m able to move my hands because the man who took me didn’t tie me up. I touch the tape on my face. All of a sudden I hear a voice that makes me gasp.

“What did I tell you about the tape?” here  asks in a mincing voice.

He is getting closer to the cage I can hear his footsteps. He smacks the cage and I scream. I can’t see or speak in this state I am very vulnerable. He reaches down and unlocks the lock but leaves the chain where it is.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I sob.

He then removes the chain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I sob again through the gag.

The door squeaks. “I’m sorry.” I sob waving my hands in front hopping it would provide me some protection from my kidnapper.

He grabs my wrist pulling me towards him with struggle due to the fact that I’m trying my best to stay in the back of the cage. He gets out nail clippers and begins to clip my nails. He continues to cut while I cry out.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We have finally landed and are currently driving to the FBI headquarters here in Seattle. I’m sitting next to Spencer when he turns to me and asks me a question.

“Have you thought of a nickname yet?” Spencer asks me.

“I have not, I am having so much trouble with it.” I tell him.

“Take as long as you need.” he repiles.

“Why do you want nicknames?” I ask.

“Well….”Spencer starts out but we pull up to the building and he rushes out of the car.

Odd, Spencer is never this nervous around me. He is an awkward person but ever since we started working together he became more comfortable with me. He grabbed what he needed and started to walk. I quickly got out and grabbed the last of what was needed and followed the team in. We have to put our bags through metal detectors as Gideon picks his up Derek nudges Spencer and I.

“He never stands with his back to a window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move.” Derek told us.

“So.” I said not understanding what he was applying.

“That’s hyper vigilance. It’s not uncommon in post-traumatic stress disorder.” Spencer tells us while Hotch catches up with us.

“Just how much disorder are we talking about?” Derek asks.

“Morgan, it’s been six months. Everything’s okay.” Hotch tells us calming me down more.

To be completely honest I’ve been worried about how this new case would affect Gideon. He has a soft spot for the team I know it and most importantly me and Spencer, but more for Spencer. He is a very good guy and I don’t want what happened to him six months ago affect his work. I know he needs time but you’d think six months would be enough. We walk to the bull pin a.k.a the place where all the agent’s desk are. Hotch introduces us.

“This is Special Agent Gideon, Special Agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, Special Agent Chase, and Special Agent Reid.” Hotch tells the agents of Seattle.

“Doctor Reid.” Gideon clarifies for Hotch.

“Dr. Reid, our expert on, well, everything, and after two years of busting my butt in this office, I hope you remember me.” Hotch jokes making everyone in the office chuckle, believe it or not he does have a sense of humor.

Gideon looks at the boards they set up then says.

“He’s willing to travel with the body.”

“Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one.” Hotch adds.

“One in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV.” Spencer tells us. “Explorer with tinted windows.” Derek adds.

“Windows that keep whatever is hidden in your car away from public view.” I say.

“Explorers rate higher with women.” Spencer recalls.

This entire time Gideon has been glued to the board with the pictures of the victims. He looks at each board with each victim.

“But how do we know it’s his car?” Derek asks.

“Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug.” answering his rhetorical question.

“What about a Jeep Cherokee?” Hotch questions.

“Jeeps are more masculine.” Spencer tells him.

“We all know how an Unsub feels about asserting his masculinity.” Gideon says turning to face us.

“When did the Bureau become involved in the case?” Hotch asks.

“ After the fourth body. He dumped that one out of state.” an agent tells us.

“On purpose.” Hotch tells Gideon.

“If so, knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record.” Spencer says.

“Not always, it could just mean he knows the cops are catching on and he is trying to get them off his trail.” I say.

“Or that he watches television. May I?” Derek as extending his hand out to take a file.

“So you wanna see our suspect list?” asks another agent.

“No, we won’t look at a suspect list until after we come up with a profile. It keeps our perspective unbiased.” Hotch tells him.

“When do we sit down your task force?” asks Gideon.

“Four o’clock.” the agent responds.

FOUR..four. How are we supposed to create a profile before four. I haven’t done much field work in a while in rusty.

“An accurate profile by four o’clock today?” Derek questions thinking the same thing as me.

“That’s not a problem.” Gideon says.

Gideon walks towards the board and we all follow. I’m a bit nervous I know that I can do it, it’s just that I am a bit rusty. Like I mentioned before I have been doing desk work for a while, the field is a stranger to me at the moment. I guess Spencer noticed my discomfort and took a hold of my hand. I looked up at him and smiled. He always knew how to make me smile.

“Agent Gideon, where would you like to start?” Hotch asks him as he walks up to the board with victim number two Anne Cushing and he points at a photo and says.

“Let’s start at the site of the last murder.”

NEXT CHAPTER 

[multiplefandomfics]

A father named Daryl

This is a fluffy oneshot I wrote a while back that i hope you’ll like. It is written how I expect Daryl to react when told he’s becoming a father. We all know he’s a tad insecure about himself and doesn’t have a very high opinion of himself either. Also I’m sure he’d be afraid of becoming like his father or brother. Enjoy reading and gimme feedback. Thank you all.

Pairings: Daryl x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, pregnancy, birth

Words: 1488

It had been a terrible few last days. I was always tired despite sleeping well and hungry despite having enough to eat. It was strange.

I pushed it to being concerned because Daryl was always on runs with Aaron.

As the weeks progressed and I didn't see my boyfriend very often I got moodier and often I was snapping at people which hadn't done anything wrong at all. I always felt bad after a moodswing and went immediately to apologise.

Everyone noticed that I was off and they always asked me why but I had no answer to that.

That was until Rosita asked me before a run if I needed any lady products like sanitary pads because it had been a while since she last brought me some. That made me think. When was the last time I was on my period?

Oh shit…. Could it be true?? Was I really?? And Saddiq confirmed an hour later what I was afraid of: Pregnant! How was I supposed to tell Daryl? We hadn't talked about that at all and I wasn't sure if he even wanted to be a dad!

So afraid hit the nail on the head. I had told everyone who knew to keep their mouths shut until I had told him myself.

Nervously I waited at home for him to arrive back. He was always tense when he came back from a run so I was even more afraid if his reaction.

I was biting my nails until I heard the rumble of his motorcycle engine. He had taken me on rides before and I loved it. The wind in my hair and the freedom riding a bike came with. Of course being close to the man I loved was also a plus.

Five minutes later and he came through the door. Shoulders slumped and scratched and bruised.

"Shit baby what happened to you? You look terrible!" I stormed toward him.

"No'ing happened. We got surprised by a small herd. These bastards tried to rip us to shreds but we're fine. Don't worry baby."  He explained.

"Don't worry? Don't worry? You nuts? I'm completely out of my mind!" There went another mood swing.  He looked at me as if I was mad and a little hurt so I immediately added: "I'm sorry. I have an explanation for being so moody lately. I saw Saddiq today."

"You sick? Something wrong?" Now was his turn to worry.

"Well depends on how you take it." I nervously bit my lip.

"Spill it! What's wrong?" He wanted to pressure it out of me.

"Daryl… I'm pregnant." When he just stared at me and didn't say a word I added: "you're gonna be a father and a damn great one at that. Please say something. Anything!" I begged.

But he just got up, turned around and left the house without a word. And seconds later I heard his bike again getting more silent in the distance.

I was devastated and couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Crying I ran over to Michonne who was chatting with Rosita in her kitchen.

"Sweetheart what happened?" They asked me when I came in tears still streaming down my face.

"He just left." I sobbed.

"Oh I'm so sorry." Rosita took me in her arms.

"What happened? Why did Daryl leave?" Michonne asked. She didn't know about the pregnancy.

"I told him I was pregnant and he didn't take it very well. He didn't say a word and just ran." Still in tears I explained.

"Oh congratulations. He'll come around. I'm sure of it. I think he's just afraid to turn out like his old man or his brother. He's not mad a you. Just afraid." Michonne offered you her embrace as well.

"Thanks for your nice words. I really needed that." I snivelled.

"You wanna stay over tonight? Have a little celebration just us three?" She suggested and Rosita nodded happily.

"I guess it would be nice not to be alone tonight. Thanks girls. I gladly stay." I took the offer.

After a really restless night tossing and turning in Michonne's guestroom I got up early to make breakfast and get my head free in the process. But it didn't work really well.

I was afraid he wasn't gonna come home at all. And that my baby would have to grow up without its daddy.

I busied myself throughout the day and the others, who had heard the whole story by then, helped me with it.

But my mind kept wandering to the live of my life who was still AWOL.

That night I slept alone again and it was a terrible feeling. The not knowing. It made me sick.

Then finally that day against noon I heard the familiar sound of his bike outside the wall and when I saw him driving through I was more relieved than I had ever been.

I was still scared what he was gonna say. If he was in or out. The others were gonna help me. Sure. But it wasn't the same as with a partner and the baby daddy.

I slowly walked toward him.

"Hey." I said carefully nervously tapping with my foot on the dirt floor.

"Hi. Look I'm sorry for how I reacted. I'm not in any way angry at you. Just damn scared. I never thought I'd have a babe. Never thought I deserved being a father after what my dad did to me." He looked downward ashamed of his past. I pulled his eyes back to my eye level and smiled at him genuinely.

"Daryl Dixon you're the kindest and most loyal, tough bastard I know and I love you so much. You're never going to be like your old man. How could you? You're more important to me than anything. We're getting through this I know that." I kissed him deeply.

" Ha." He hugged out.

"What?" I looked at him confused.

" 's is exactly what Carol said too." He scratched his neck awkwardly.

So that's where he had been. I was relieved he hadn't done anything stupid.

He hugged me close before he fell to his knees and started speaking with my nonexistent bump. "Hey baby. Whatever you may be. Mommy and Daddy love you so much and we can't wait to meet you." That brought tears to my eyes and I pulled him up and kissed him senseless again. How did u deserve such a loving and caring man by my side?

The next eight months he was always by my side. To the extent that I shooed him away after a while because it was becoming overbearing.

With the small means that we had he made the house child proof. He couldn't wait. We got Judith old baby crib. I was the luckiest girl on Earth.

Then, we were standing in the nursery he had just painted a horrible green, the only color we could get, when  I suddenly exclaimed "oh God. I think my water just broke."

"What? Now? Holy fuck. We need to get Saddiq." He completely went nuts. I had never seen him like that but I suppose that happens to men in the property of becoming a father soon.

Saddiq was there fast and he helped me into the bed. "We need hot water and clean cloth. A lot of it.

Carol, who had come over to help when the baby was there, did as Saddiq had requested and Daryl was as white as a sheet sitting next to me.

I thought that he was gonna need a doctor soon.

"Breath Daryl. Don't pass out on me. Not while I am doing the hard work!" I yelled at him as another contraction passed through me. That seemed to sober him up and he pressed my hand reassuringly.

"You're so beautiful. You can do that. I believe in you. You're a strong woman." Those were the words he was speaking to me calmly. I really appreciated it. Well not at the time of ultimate pain but later on.

"One more push Y/N then it'll be there." Saddiq informed me.

So I did push one more time and a second later I heard my baby crying.

"Congrats guys. It's a girl." Carol said.

"You did a great job baby." Daryl kissed my sweaty forehead.

Carol handed me my little angel in some blankets. She was so beautiful.

"She has your eyes!" Daryl remarked.

"You have a name yet?" Carol asked interested.

"We thought about Beth or Sofia. Or both." I said dreamily.

"She looks like a Sofia Beth to me." Daryl suggested.

"Alright so be it." I agreed.

The next year's were gonna be the most unnerving and exhausting years if our lives but it was so worth it when this little bundle of joy smiled at us.  

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord II text Roman & Aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @romanbeckett​

Mentions: @davieslandon​ @malakhai-ozera​ @jayceelynd​ @alison-haynes​

Where: Aaron is at his house and Roman is at his house.

When: evening of May 26th-monrning of May 27th, 11:30p-2:30a

Description: Roman texts Aaron and they talk all night until they both fall asleep

Trigger Warnings: smut, what I would imagine harry’s peen to look like, really cute shit

Roman.

Hey.

Aaron.

hi

Roman.

Khai broke up with me, so. With us.

with Jay and I. And he left.

Aaron.

oh my god...im sorry Ro

Roman.

Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.

Aaron.

what did he say? Like why...?

Roman.

He told us that he loved us but needed time to work on himself or whatever.

Aaron.

I don’t know Khai that well but it does seem like he’s got a lot of shit to figure out

how are you doing with it?

and jayc? Should I reach out to her or....does she not know we’re talking

Roman.

you can talk to her if you want. I think we both just don’t really know how to feel to be honest.

Aaron.

im sorry

i hope he's okay

and i hope you and Jayc are okay too

Roman.

don’t be lol honestly Aaron, I set myself up for it the second I agreed to close myself off, knowing all of the issues I need to work through as well

contrary to popular belief, I’m far from having it all figured out.

Aaron.

that makes two of us

that was quick tbh

Roman.

Yeah. I just feel like an idiot.

Aaron.

what no....thats not what i meant

Roman.

anyway.

how are you

Aaron.

okay....no please dont feel like an idiot. its his fault not yours

im....okay....getting better than i was last week

miss you though not gonna lie

Roman.

I miss you, too. A lot.

Aaron

:(

im sorry

idk why i am i just feel like i need to apologize

Roman.

you have nothing to be sorry for lol at all

if anything, I’m sorry.

for bringing you into all this drama

and making you eat at a Chinese buffet lol

Aaron.

making me eat at a Chinese buffet is the only thing you have to be sorry for

also

i inserted myself into this mess as well. and didn't pull out once i realized who you were to landon

Roman.

does it make me immature if I laugh at you saying you didn’t pull out once?

Aaron.

RO

YES BUT IM HERE FOR IT

Roman.

I might just be high, but now I can’t stop laughing lol

Aaron.

sksjks

im sober and laughing so

well not sober

i had a few drinks

Roman.

everyone knows you’re a lightweight Aaron, stop tryin’ to be sly lol

Aaron.

who you callin a lightweight, lightweight?

Roman.

only when I haven’t eaten anything LIGHTWEIGHT

Aaron.

https://tenor.com/view/uncalled-gif-5394176

michelle tanner voice

Roman.

You miss me. Just a reminder.

Aaron.

you miss me

another reminder

Roman.

I’m not the one calling you rude lol

Aaron.

you called me out for being a lightweight and i retaliated

forgive me

Roman.

you’re in denial is what you are :fingerguns2:

but I’ll forgive you.

Aaron.

idk you'd think for how much i drink i'd have a higher tolerance

i need therapy

Roman.

probably lol I’ll go with you

Aaron.

lol couples counseling?

jk

jk

Roman.

I actually think it would be quite funny to see what they have to say about US

Aaron.

i need a therapist to tell it like it is

then again i do have ali

that woman calls me out on my shit literally daily

maybe shes just a free therapist

Roman.

LMAO that’s...amazing. I like her already.

Aaron.

she do be driving me up a wall

but

shes family

Roman.

Ah, family. I’ve been trying to get my sister here, but she’s being an ass lol

Aaron.

asshat

who wouldn’t want to move to New York

Roman.

satans demons.

Aaron.

exactly

whats keeping her from coming?

Roman.

she’s not as hellbent on big cities as I am lol

Aaron.

weird

city life has always been for me

arent you from manchester? is that not a big city?

Roman.

it’s not New York lol

she lives in the country now though.

Aaron.

no city is new york

Roman.

exactly lol

Aaron.

what are you doing

besides getting high

Roman.

I’m naked on the couch eating cherry gilato while watching good mythical morning on YouTube

Aaron.

i would very much like to be naked on a couch with you

Roman.

I painted my nails and did a facial first lol i could do yours as well

Aaron.

ill take the facial

i couldn't pull off the nails though

Roman.

you’d look so kickass with some black nails

Aaron.

you think?

Roman.

hell yes. Even a sky blue, like those eyes

Aaron.

i blush

maybe we can try the toe nails first

in case I end up hating them

Roman.

OH, I’m also trained in Swedish massage, head to toe. If you want a personal spa day

Aaron.

that would just give me a boner

Roman.

well, it’s a FULL body massage after all.

Aaron.

sksjsks

dont tempt me

Roman.

Aaron. I just.

is it bad that I don’t want to stay away from you anymore?

that’s a dumb question

I know it’s bad.

Aaron.

its not dumb

I don’t want to stay away from you either

but I promised Landon

Roman.

I know. So did I.

You’re right, I’m sorry.

Aaron.

he’s my best friend

dont be sorry

im glad you’re being honest with me

I just don’t see Landon being okay with this anytime soon

Roman.

I know! I know. He’s mine too, and I care about him more than I care to admit. I shouldn’t be like this.

Aaron.

damn this is fucked up

Roman.

I shouldn’t have said anything

Aaron.

I wish this could be easier

im the one that started with the boner references

Roman.

Not really. I offered you a massage

Aaron.

okay yes but

I told you I wanted to be naked with you

Roman.

because I said I was naked

Aaron.

I just don’t want you blaming yourself that’s all

Roman.

I know, but it is what it is. I made a mess of everything, and now everything I had is ruined lol I deserve it.

Aaron.

Ro

I’m sad you think so little of yourself

Roman.

I don’t. It’s just consequences. I made bad decisions, and now I have to deal with the consequences. That’s all. It’ll all be okay.

Aaron.

I wish I could make you feel better

Roman.

you already do. I promise.

Aaron.

I just smiled

Roman.

show me?

Aaron.

sure

Roman.

omg bad idea my heart

Aaron.

oop

Roman.

you’re so fucking jahshsbzjdndjendj

Aaron.

AKDJDJAKALhdja

Roman.

I’m mad at you

for looking like that

Aaron.

Well i can’t stop thinking about u

Roman.

let me just

Aaron.

yeah I kept drinking

and as we’ve established I’m a lightweight

okay I showed you a selfie now you should be a selfie

Roman.

oh yeah? Trying to boss me around again are ya?

Aaron.

do what daddy says

Roman.BOTToday at 2:02 AM

yes daddy.

Aaron.

brb gotta go jack off

Roman.

stoppppp

Aaron.

not kidding

Roman.

you don’t need a better picture than that to do the deed

??? Lolll

Aaron.

I mean....you could send me some

Roman.BOTToday at 2:09 AM

Does this help?

Aaron.

holy fuck

ugh I wanna fuck you so bad

and put all of you in my mouth

Roman.

I want it too. I shouldn’t, but I do. I want you to fuck me with my hands tied behind my back, and you pulling on my collar from behind.

Aaron.

fuck don’t put those thoughts in my head or I’ll act up

I wanna tie you up so bad

and punish you for being so naughty

Roman.

I’d want to call out your name so loud, but you’d have to let me.

Aaron.

you can’t do anything without my permission

Roman.

I’ll do my best daddy. You know I like to make you proud.

Aaron.

Ro I just came into a sock so hard

I want you so bad but the fact I can’t have you makes that even hotter to me

Roman.

forbidden fruit, hm?

Aaron.

you’re my forbidden fruit for sure

Roman.

wish I could have been there to help

Aaron.

you did enough helping trust me

Roman.

are we terrible people lol

Aaron.

I know

we are

im trying though

so that’s gotta count for something

Roman.

I hope it does, for both our sakes lol

Aaron.

if this doesn’t work out we can always be together in hell

Roman.

that sounds like a rightful ending

at least I’ll be tan.

Aaron.

we’ll both be hot and tan chilling in hell together

and we can fuck all we want

Roman.

sounds like the next big Netflix series.

Aaron.

could you imagine a Netflix series about us

Roman.

no, I’m scared to lol it would be more insane than Tiger King

Aaron.

you think our lives are more insane than Tiger King?!?

Roman.

scary, right??

Aaron.

thats definitely...quite the comparison

Roman.

I would have loved to have seen your face watching it for the first time

Aaron.

watching that together would have been so fun

I can picture us watching that and freaking out together

Roman.

maybe one night we’ll trip acid and watch it again

Aaron.

confession I’ve never tripped before

Roman.

whaaaaaa

do it with me!

Aaron.

I mean yeah I used to do a lot of coke when I got drunk and sometimes still do but that been the extent of my drug use

hahaha I will trip with you, Roman Beckett

Roman.

aces! Just tell me when and where, and it’s a plan!

Aaron.

”aces”

but yeah let’s do it this weekend

Roman.

I’m British you knob. Shut up lol

Aaron.

I know MATE I was making fun of you

Roman.

sends long audio clip making fun of Aaron’s New York accent

Aaron

brooooo

I do say that though

Roman.

I know, I’ve listened to you talk enough

it’s cute though

ready for bed?

Aaron.

just about

I was gonna go to bed a while ago but wanted to keep texting you

Roman.

same.

tuck me in lol

Aaron.

do u want me to tell you a bedtime story

Roman.

yes, but make it snappy

and I want warm milk

Aaron.

damn

so bossy

but okay

Roman.

you know I’m spoiled.

Aaron.

that must’ve been my fault

okay Des like this one:

By the African river, know as the Nile The sun fell away and it rested a while The rhinos had braved all the smoldering heat They lay down to sleep as they wiped off their feet The elephants marched to their elephant beds And gently they rested their elephant heads Slowly the hippos sank into the river The water so cold that it gave them a shiver (Hippos can't swim, like the pelicans think They also can't float, they could easily sink) The hippos went bathing in cool, shallow pools Thinking the rhinos and elephants fools Underwater, they fell to the soft river bed On darkish green plants with a smidgen of red They strolled on the bottom, then bounced up for air They did it for hours, without any care The fish followed closely, and wove in an out Under their belly, and up to their snout Each of the hippos came up to the shore To feed on the grass by the river once more They dried off their bodies by shaking and stomping And took bites of grass, chewing and chomping With night fading fast, they were full from the feast The sun returned back, rising up form the east The hippos crept off to collapse for the day While rhinos and elephants got up to play Enjoying the warmth of the sun and its light Never knowing the story of hippos at night

just read it in my New York accent you’re so good at

goodnight Lois

Roman.

that was perfect. Goodnight Clark.

[classyfoxdestiny]

Boris Johnson refuses to quit after Partygate report blasts failures of leadership #ٹاپسٹوریز

New Post has been published on https://mediaboxup.com/boris-johnson-refuses-to-quit-after-partygate-report-blasts-failures-of-leadership/

Boris Johnson refuses to quit after Partygate report blasts failures of leadership

Boris Johnson was forced into a humiliating apology in the House of Commons after a damning report into allegations of lockdown-busting parties blasted “failures of leadership and judgement” at 10 Downing Street.

The heavily-abridged report by senior civil servant Sue Gray revealed that the Metropolitan Police are conducting a criminal investigation into 12 separate events in No 10 and other government departments, including at least three believed to have been attended by the prime minister.

It stated that some of gatherings represented “a serious failure to observe not just the high standards expected of those working at the heart of government but also of the standards expected of the entire British population at the time”.

Sir Keir Starmer branded the PM a “man without shame” as he brushed off demands for his resignation and promised to “fix” the problem with a shake-up of No 10 staff and a review of codes of conduct for civil servants and advisers.

Tory MP Angela Richardson announced she had quit her job as parliamentary private secretary to cabinet minister Michael Gove, citing “deep disappointment” with Johnson’s handling of the scandal. And a minister told The Independent he was “considering his position” after the PM’s disappointing response.

A snap poll by Opinium found 64 per cent of voters think Tory MPs should remove Johnson through a confidence vote, 83 per cent believe he broke lockdown rules and 75 per cent think he is not telling the truth.

SNP Westminster leader Ian Blackford was ejected from the Commons for refusing to retract his use of the word “liar” to describe Johnson. And Tory former chief whip Andrew Mitchell told the PM he no longer had his support.

Tory MP Aaron Bell – a member of the Red Wall group of Conservatives in traditionally Labour seats in the Midlands and north – asked if the PM regarded him as “a fool” for obeying social distancing rules at his grandmother’s funeral.

But there was no immediate sign of the flood of confidence letters to Sir Graham Brady, the chair of the backbench 1922 Committee, which would trigger a vote on Johnson’s future as Tory leader if they pass the threshold of 54.

Mr Johnson was subjected to a withering putdown in the Commons by predecessor Theresa May, who demanded to know if he had failed to understand the rules which he imposed on the country or whether he thought they did not apply to him.

And he was forced into a hasty U-turn after MPs responded with outrage to his suggestion that Ms Gray’s full report might never be published. After initially saying the PM would consider whether to release it following the completion of the Met investigation, Downing Street issued a statement to say it would be published in full.

The 12-page “update” released by the senior civil servant today contained none of the extensive factual information which she has gathered from interviews with more than 70 people, as well as analysis of emails, WhatsApp and text messages, photographs and Downing Street entry logs.

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Police said they had received more than 300 photos and 500 pages of information, but Ms Gray said it was impossible for her to produce a “meaningful” report while Scotland Yard imposes limits on what she can say about the most serious alleged offences.

Instead, her report gave a scathing assessment of the culture inside government departments which saw alcohol-fuelled gatherings of staff at a time when members of the public faced fines for meetings outside their households

These included the ”bring your own booze” party on 20 May 2020 when Mr Johnson joined around 40 No 10 staff to drink alcohol and eat picnic food from trestle tables in the Downing Street rose garden, as well as his birthday celebrations with cake in the cabinet room and an alleged party in the PM’s flat on the evening of the resignation of former aide Dominic Cummings on 13 November 2020.

In the Commons, Mr Johnson refused to withdraw his previous statement to parliament that the 13 November event did not take place, but his press secretary later said that he “stands by” his earlier comment.

The Gray report stated: “At times it seems there was too little thought given to what was happening across the country in considering the appropriateness of some of these gatherings, the risks they presented to public health and how they might appear to the public.

“There were failures of leadership and judgment by different parts of No 10 and the Cabinet Office at different times.”

And she concluded: “A number of these gatherings should not have been allowed to take place or to develop in the way that they did.”

Sir Keir Starmer said that the report had shown Mr Johnson to be “unfit for office” and called on him to step down.

Citing Margaret Thatcher’s dictum that ministers cannot “bob and weave and duck” around the laws they make, he said Tory MPs had a “duty” to remove Johnson from No 10.

“They can go on degrading themselves, eroding trust in politics and insulting the sacrifice of the British public,” said Starmer. “They can heap their reputations, the reputation of their party, and the reputation of this country, on the bonfire that is his leadership.

“Or they can spare the country from a prime minister totally unworthy of his responsibilities.

“It is only they who can end this farce. The eyes of the country are upon them. They will be judged on the decisions they take now.”

Insisting that he would show his government could be trusted, Mr Johnson announced plans to reshape No 10 as an “Office of the Prime Minister” led by a permanent secretary, as well as to enforce codes of conduct for civil servants and special advisers more stringently.

He attempted to kick off a fightback with a behind-closed-doors address to the Tory parliamentary party which one MP described as “barnstorming”. Leader of the Commons Jacob Rees-Mogg said he had not heard any calls for Johnson to go, telling reporters the PM had “managed to maintain the support of the party pretty much throughout”.

The mood among officials at the Cabinet Office and Number 10 was grim, with one saying they were preparing for a week of “shuffle and slaughter”.

Three sources told the Independent that the report’s trimmed state had made it easier for the prime minister to blame staff and officials.

The Cabinet Office does not reveal details of individual disciplinary action against government employees. However, The Independent understands that steps could be taken to reprimand or punish staff found to be at fault by the report immediately. But in some cases, this may not be possible until the police have completed their separate investigation.

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[bartsugsy]

Ok so Aaron and Robert are married now what? Where would like their story to go from there. What type of storylines should happen for them?

Oh damn anon, I’ve been thinking about this for a few days and I still haven’t really come up with anything satisfying… but I’ll give you my little wish list of stuff I want to see. I don’t ever really care what plots they have, but in terms of scenes and character beats, here’s what I want:

Obviously, the boys doing up and working on the Mill (complete with Robert threatening random workers and criticising their work and Rob, Liv and Aaron hanging out one weekend painting walls together and the boys drinking tea and looking at online furniture shops together)

For! Them! To! Deal! With! Their! Internalised! Homophobia! Slash! Biphobia! Issues! And! Have! Conversations! About! It! LEGITIMATELY CAN THEY PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT AARON IS STILL WORRIED ABOUT ROB LEAVING HIM FOR A GIRL (WAY MORESO THAN ROB LEAVING HIM FOR A GUY) AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT ROB HAS ONLY HAD ONE CONVERSATION ABOUT HIS SEXUALITY WITH AARON AND THATS IT AND HE STILL CLEARLY HAS THINGS TO WORK THROUGH BECAUSE I WANT TO CHECK IN WITH HIM AND KNOW WHERE HIS HEAD IS AT REGARDING HIS SEXUALITY LIKE DOES HE STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE IN GAY BARS??? PLEASE AND THANK

Jealous Robert tbh. Just a little bit. Or a lot I don’t care I want jealous Robert.

CAN WE HAVE A PLOT ABOUT THEM MAKING OUT ON THE SOFA THATS IT THATS THE PLOT

for them to go on a holiday and not have to cancel it #thedream

(but not for too long bc I would miss them)

For Robert to get another friend.

For Paddy and Aaron to FIX THEIR SHIT pull themselves together and start properly spending time with one another

For Aaron to progressively use less and less gel in his hair again (except for special occasions if he needs to look ~smart~)

For Rob to get involved in Dingle business/get up to a bit of no good with Cain and/or Charity

Bartsugsy double date 😌

For Aaron to deal with some of his shit and for he and Rob to TALK ABOUT THINGS AND LEARN TO COMMUNICATE BETTER but not too much better bc it’s a soap so you know

Also I want them to be involved in a stunt again bc I love the hurt/comfort lmao

Finally Rob/Liv hug please and thank u

….I mean, small demands, whatever, I don’t need much la de daaa

[cosmicrhetoric]

top 5 fave main characters?

this is gonna be those characters that make ur heart swell and u just...theyre such good people and theyve been thru so much

in no particular order:

neil josten: i JUST reblogged a post about this i just....’dan i said please’....’r u gonna behave’ ‘yes coach’ neil u KNOW ur lying anyway he just doesn’t care about himself and it breaks my heart. cause he says hes all about self preservation but the boy went to the ravens for the exact opposite. and his relationships?? to his team?? dan was ready to shank riko for laying a finger on him (all of them were but dan was the one who almost said something) and even in the small ways...allison painting him back together everyday...matt ALWAYS having his back and renee offering her knives. Nicky fuckin cries everytime he remembers neil doesn’t love himself, kevin promising to teach neil every night even tho his days are numbered...even aaron, who fuckin hates him, knows he’s a fox and he’s theirs. i love him. so much. 

harry potter: the OG SWEET BOY he’s so good he has a conversation with a SNAKE cause he understands what its like to be in a cage...r u crying yet...i am...honestly just wants to have a fun time with his friends? and he couldve been such a little shit he was abused his entire life but no, it just made him the sweetest boy who ever lived UNLESS you fuck with him or his friends. then he’ll fuckin come for you ‘there’s no need to call me sir, professor’. that boy is LILY EVANS thru and thru right down to dissing snape

luke skywalker: this boy....just watch this and tell me you didn’t feel something for him. i was gonna put anakin on this cause im a shamless stan but why would i do that when luke is better in every way??? he’s just so kind to everyone he meets but he’s absolutely ruled by a sense of justice and like...his unshakable faith in the good of the world rlly inspired me to also believe in the good for once...he looks at a fascist galaxy and thinks ‘this is beautiful in some ways. it needs some work and i am willing to tear down those walls but it could become something beautiful and thats why i fight’ JUST LIKE HIS MOM theres a REASON han and leia imprinted on this kid. theres a reason obi wan looked at him and saw the best of his parents. 

buffy summers: a feminist icon??? who has been mistreated at one point by her friends and mentors and the people she saved but it doesn’t matter, cause she has the strongest sense of PURPOSE like she just keeps. getting. back. up. like theres not even a question. not only can she slay demons in a virginal prom dress, she can talk a boy down from suicide and she can defeat a crazy strong vamp without her powers cause he hurt her mom and NOTHING. NOTHING will EVER top the moment when angelus is about to kill her, and buffy realizes that she, herself, is all she needs. everytime i feel shitty (and thats a lot recently) i think about buffy catching that blade and opening her eyes. sure of herself. full of belief. and says ‘me’. she’s left, and she’s all she needs to get through. 

tiffany aching: um EVERYONE needs to read all of the discworld books but TIFFANY. girl is NINE in the first book and shes just the smartest kid who’s a little selfish and a little jealous of her little brother. 1) parents that love n support her even if they dont get her 2) ALSO has the biggest sense of justice ive ever seen in a child...when you read a nine year old taking an immortal being by the face and going ‘this isn’t reality. grow the fuck up’ it just really fuckin affects u man....someone has to stand up for her land and well, damn, i guess its gonna be her cause no one else is stepping up to the plate...she rules the world as a nine year old she holds the entire world in her palm cause the land is her bones and whatev and she has to let it go. she’s like lawful neutral matilda. 

honorable mentions include sakura from ccs, simon from gurren lagan, matilda, kaz brekker from six of crows, karou from dosab, artemis fowl, and all of my ocs

any day can be a sleepover, send me things

[ecotone99]

[HR] The Angel

When I was young my father told me to be afraid of angels. They spend their time lurking just beyond your sight, wearing beautiful faces that are overflowing with deadly demons teeth. He told me, once, that everyone meets an angel at least one time in their life, and then he looked at my mother with suspicion in his pale celery coloured eyes.

I always hated celery, but I love my father dearly. Mother would always shake her head and scoff when he spoke of angels. You could always see it in her face when she looked at him that she loved that crazy man more than life itself. She told me that she could have the whole wide world, all its sweets and riches, but they were nothing but ash were he not there at her side. Tasteless and dull, ceaseless monotony worth less than the gravel under your shoes. She told me that when I asked if she loved him. Never quite had the courage to ask if she loved me.

Some days I get real close to asking. Others... Well, I guess I just knew. I got my answer in the end.

Sixteen years ago on the twenty first of May... I was still just a happy kid. God, I'll never forget the hot reek of blood in my nose. The damp warmth of the day clinging to my skin like a muggy film. It had been raining a lot, and the first clear day in over a week was a hot one.

Authorities claimed some wild animal had done it, in the end. My father had been meaning to fix the back door for eons. The paint was chipped and peeling away, the rich colour of dark chocolate being ripped away by time, and the thing squeaked like you just stepped on a mouse. I walked in the front so I didn’t notice right away that the old back door had been torn from the house as if it were nothing at all. My focus was the strange, heavy, coppery smell.

I remember calling for my mother clear as day and I swear I heard her call back to me. This sweet little hint of sound, strong and bold in ways I could never be.

“I'm in the kitchen!”

Now, her hands always shook a little, as far back as I can remember. My memories are fading now but her voice was always clear as a crystal glass. A little high-pitched and sweet as fresh fruit. The sound of her laugh gets fuzzier everyday. Fainter. Like she's leaving me behind even in my thoughts but to this day I know I heard her to me.

“I'm in the kitchen!”

So I kicked off my shoes and threw my favourite hoodie a little to the left onto the first step of the stairs. It usually smelled of cigarette smoke, yet never once in my life and I even held a cigarette. Somehow that sharp twisting smell remained stuck to the fabric. Angels, my father said. My mother scoffed, that sound only she could make into a gentle, loving embrace, and she told me;

“It must be that boy that you hang around. Ernest? Aaron?” It was funny that he didn't smoke either. None of my friends did. We were never cool enough for that.

In the end it doesn't really matter much. Doesn't stop me from walking into that kitchen and it doesn't take the memories away. Not even time could dull this day. The walls had always been this wretched shade of green. Sort of watery, almost yellow and almost tan but somehow not. They were solidly green, you couldn't call them anything else, yet they also weren’t really green. But that day they were painted anew. That day I saw them dripping fresh crimson in all of the places that there weren't holes. As thick is my wrist and more than a hand deep these gouges ripped through the walls almost clean to the other side.

There wasn't anything left of my beautiful mother's throat. Her body was cold and stiff where she lay over what was left my father. He was hardly even recognizable anymore outside of the gold feather shaped pin on his jacket, and a single shining ivory orb betraying one of those familiar celery green eyes. There was love still gleaming from my mother’s glassy baby blues.

It was that day, almost that very moment that I saw my first angel.

Our back door was in the kitchen and through the hole left behind I saw a monster.

Hunched over, with bones too sharp and muscles too thick, it's body wasted away like it was staving. Skin the colour of stolen dreams. Around it’s almost comically small head was a halo of horns. Golden daggers longer than my forearm arching upwards from its bare scalp. Scaly shoulders protected non-existent ear’s sloping downwards into too long limbs... Great webbed Wings, each bearing a single 'thumb' with a claw longer than one of my father’s old beer bottles. Each of its legs was longer than I was tall, thick as a saplings tree trunk and dyed a sticky scarlet that ended just inches above its knees. Gargantuan clawed feet arched away from the ground...

Never did see its face.

I called the police not long after, stuttering so badly I didn't even know what I was trying to say. Tears on my cheeks felt so sticky I was sure if I looked they be the same hue as the kitchen walls. I wonder what they thought walking into that mess. I tried to tell them what I saw on the yard.

The one officer, a woman with almond-shaped eyes and hair darker than the night sky, told me I was in shock. She said she was very sorry for my loss. They couldn’t explain to me the bloody prints on the grass, two perfectly human looking footprints, two much larger, and two partial prints that were each tipped with four holes the size of my head.

You know it's kind of funny. We never did find that old door.

submitted by /u/marijuanasinhaler [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2YVzfDw

[improbable-implosions]

A super cold time!

Spent a while writing some more super!mai x super!aaron. Kinda ran out of steam there at the end, but I got to a good ending point, so I think I’ll post it!

(Also, any ideas on a ship name? I think it’ll be a while before these two date)

My favorite class of the day had finally come around, and I was excited from the first question out of the teacher’s mouth.

“Can anyone tell me the most important technique or thought process when you’re doing something with thermokinetics?”

My hand shot into the air, and I was confident in my answer. “Balance is absolutely key in controlling heat or cold!”

“A good guess, Aaron, and I’d argue you’re on the right track. However, our research has shown that the most paramount thing in learning to control or use our type of abilities in particular is understanding and awareness. That is to say, you have to know what it is you’re trying to do, have a good understanding of what you’re undertaking, and know what’s going on around you, so you’re aware of what you can work with. This is clearly apparent in the clips we’re going to review today.” The teacher responded evenly.

I internally groaned as he started to fuss with the projector and pull up the video. As much as I loved this class, when the teacher incorporated video clips into it, it became a real drag. Usually, the clips were old special effects shots from TV before people had started to develop powers, and those tended to be accurate in some respects, and wildly inaccurate in others, so most of the time we couldn’t sit back and enjoy the clips, the teacher was expecting us to pore over the footage to pick out small things that wouldn’t work. And of course, it was no help to my focus that there were so few shots involving any ice control. Fire was far and away the more popular half of the spectrum, and my disdain for that powerset was pretty clear. Didn’t help that the two people on either side of me were pyrokinetics, either. While a shot of the human torch blasting himself across the skies rolled, and the teacher began to lecture about how this would be an “impractical at best” use of one’s powers, my thoughts drifted to the redheaded girl I had met the other day. Sure, she was super strong, and yeah, that could be pretty useful, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. It wasn’t even her looks, though those were nothing to sneeze at! No, what got her stuck in my mind was the way she acted, or more appropriately, the way I had reacted to her. I was all over the place, swinging from 0 to word vomitingly nervous in merely a moment! Heck, then I spoke so quickly, she probably thought my power was being super emotional. I’d have to catch up with her after class to explain myself a little bit, her and that pink haired girl, Hana, seemed like interesting people to hang around.

The teacher cleared his throat, startling me from my reverie. “Glad to see you back on our planet, mister Nesterson. Now, if you could tell us what’s wrong with this picture?” He gestured broadly to the freezeframe projected on the wall, and I spluttered nervously. I recognized the shot, (a moment from The Flash where Killer Frost was throwing an icicle at an enemy) but I never saw much wrong with their effects!

“U..uh..” I stammered further, frost spreading from my outstretched hands onto my desk, painting a portrait of Mai.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, and quipped, “Well, since you’ve frozen up, I’ll tell you.” He smirked as if to enjoy his pun for a moment, and continued, “Her form is all wrong, forcing the water in the air to solidify while also moving it toward your target. This can, for one thing, throw off your aim like you wouldn’t believe, as the forces of the water vapor rushing in from elsewhere in the air wreak havoc on the trajectory, but this isn’t a bad choice just thanks to that, either. Any ideas why, everyone?”

He waited for a response from the class, and a timid hand shot up, but I didn’t catch their answer, noticing the small picture that had formed on my desk. I flushed a bit, moving to hide the beaming smile, and just as the fire-user next to me leaned over as if to tease me about it, the bell went off.

“Phew, didn’t want to have to explain that to sparky over there!” I thought, tossing my books in my backpack and hurrying out of the classroom, glad that I didn’t have any classes left in the day. Now, where could I find Mai..? I didn’t know anything about how the super-strength track worked, and I didn’t have any friends in that area, either! I started to mumble as my walk slowed mid-hallway, wondering how I was going to meet up with the girl, when I was bowled over by someone who seemed to be in quite a hurry. Arms pinwheeling, I slid back a ways, my shoes icing over to make me slide about as fast as the girl who had hit me was going, and I wound up a couple feet back when I finally came to a stop, two lines of ice clearly marking my path down the hallway. Luckily, I hadn’t dropped anything in the accident, but unluckily, I could see I had frozen the poor girl’s hair in an array of spikes that would have made a punk rocker jealous! Slipping and sliding on the ice I had made, I worked my way back to the girl, apologizing profusely, but the words died on my lips as I noticed who I’d given frosted tips. It was Mai, and she looked.. Somewhere between fuming and startled?

“What the heck, dude? I look like a pufferfish! What was that for?” Mai growled at me, fists clenching a bit.

I stepped back warily, the bruise from her joking slug on the arm from yesterday twinging as if to remind me that I had no place getting into a fight with such a heavy hitter. “S-sorry, you kinda startled me! H-Hey, at least you’re rocking that look?” I stammered, trying to make light of my blunder. “I wouldn’t try to undo those spikes, I’m not sure how hair reacts when it gets frozen.. It could shatter or something, especially with your strength. I can try to unfreeze it for you?”

Mai sighed through her teeth, then put on a smile, as if to say, “There’s no reason for me to get all salty about this!”. My heart melted a little.. Unlike her hair.

“Tell ya what!” Mai chimed happily, “You unfreeze my hair, and meet me in the gym to spar later, and no hard feelings!”

I blinked, startled, as a chorus of Oooos rose around me. It wasn’t often a challenge like this was issued, even among friends. Despite not knowing the first thing about fighting someone like Mai with my power, I couldn’t just decline! “O-okay, can I get your phone number s-so we can work out details?” I stammered out, tugging my phone from my pocket and giving it a (pretty showy) flip as I handed it to her. I could practically hear the people around us roll their eyes as she typed her number into my phone. They probably thought we were just going to have a sappy little spat not worth watching at this point.. And as much as I would have enjoyed that, (would have been great to try some new techniques I’d been tinkering with) the glint of vengefulness in Mai’s eyes as she handed back the phone let me know I had a pretty intense fight on my hands. My breath out was punctuated by steam, my nerves apparent from the bubble of cold surrounding my body.

“See ya later, frosty!~” Mai said smugly, flipping her now defrosted hair as she strolled away confidently.

I sat in my dorm a short while later, staring at my phone’s screen in the darkened room. The contact name read 💪Mai Sasake 💪. I smiled softly at this, and fired off a text.

So, you still feeling up to that sparring match, or do you have cold feet? :P

Hey now, don’t muscle me out on the pun market! Meet me on the soccer field in 5 minutes, and good luck! You’ll need it ;)

I let out a choked sound. Five minutes was barely enough time to get to the soccer field, it was all the way across campus! Hurriedly, I grabbed a few ice packs from the freezer and shoved them in my pockets. I had an idea to keep this from being a huge spectacle, but I was absolutely going to need more cold than I had on hand if I was going to pull that off. As I rushed toward the soccer field, I saw the size of our audience, and I hoped that my harebrained scheme would work. The last thing I needed was the whole school breathing down my neck for getting into a fight, with someone who could so easily wreck me, no less. I worked my way through the still growing crowd as I stepped onto the soccer field, avoiding the eyes of my opponent so I could actually speak as I raised my voice.

“Hate to be a spoilsport, Mai dear, but I’m not one for spectator sports!” I called across the field, slamming my hands into the field moments after the last word had escaped my mouth. I felt the cold flare down my arms from the packs I had stuffed into my pockets just moments before, praying that it was enough to do what I needed. My gut dropped and I gritted my teeth, levering the cold to swirl into the form I required of it. The frost crackled across the ground, small spikes cropping up as I pumped more and more energy into my task. I faintly heard gasps as the dome irised shut above us, and I heaved a sigh of relief, swaying slightly as I stood.

“The dome’s a bit thin, but I’d say it gets the job done, no?” I said casually, stepping toward Mai with a great deal of wobbling in my gait.

A smile crept across Mai’s face, and she mirrored my steps forward. “As much as I enjoy a hot guy, I don’t think that’s the best thing for you, huh?” Mai lilted, returning banter I hadn’t given her.

I paused at this, blinking as I tried to pick apart her banter woozily. “So.. you think I’m hot? And you like me?”

Mai balked for a moment at this, the confusion clear on her face at my odd comment. “I.. what?”

I tried to smile suavely, instead nearly faceplanting as I swayed further, pitching the ice packs from my pockets hurriedly. “Shoot, I really overdid it with the dome. Need some cold to refresh!” I muttered, my thermal vision flickering in and out doing my confused state no favors.

It was Mai’s turn to gasp, and her strength was on full display as she jumped swiftly to cover the (notable) distance between us, catching me like I was an old-timey lady who had swooned. Subconsciously, my body knew I needed the cold, and drew in what I had just put so much effort in putting out. The dome steamed away, and as the fog cleared, the crowd saw my prone form, frosting over in Mai’s arms.