#which makes me wonder why he didn't kill the guys that came to shoot them or why he didn't just kill the trillioners

[beedreamscape]

This bitch bastard man (affectionate)

[justawritterwithideas]

Who's your daddy? | s.r

summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?

warnings: too much fluff, spencer!dad, my best attempt at Spencer dad because it's 24/7 on my mind. I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT, AAAAAAAAAAA. This story is not spencer x reader, i wanted to try something different so i created a character. I hope you guys like it.

words: 4,241.

a/n: I decided to surprise myself and try the family/family found challenge from one of my favorite writers in the whole universe, @imagining-in-the-margins. I used, I think, one of my favorite concepts which is "secret family/spouse/child" for this little au.

i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :( I hope you like it, plus I really enjoyed being able to try something new and outside of what I usually focus my writing on. THANK YOU, TQM.

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Catching criminals is a good way to kill time.

The BAU team knew this perfectly well, that's why they were dedicated to it. Every day was a new experience trying to find and capture the worst of the worst of humanity. Even though sometimes they just wished those freaks would take a day off.

The last case had sent them all the way to Silicon Valley, successfully catching the unsub and making it safely back to the FBI offices.

What they didn't expect was to find their technical analyst and friend, Penelope, gazing in amazement at the inside of a stroller.

"What is that, Penny?" asked Emily, walking up to the blonde figure who was totally engrossed by what she was seeing in that baby carriage. The group approached silently, after seeing the woman's signal for them to come as quietly as possible, and saw inside it.

A small baby was sleeping comfortably inside. They estimated that he was about eight months old; they could see a few strands of thin brown hair that were tousled falling down his forehead, his little nose was puckered and his little hand clenched the tail of a fluffy lion. His outfit was as cute as possible: his body was adorned by a white long-sleeved T-shirt with an iguana on it and a leaf-green overalls, but much of his body was covered by a gray blanket.

"Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Penn looked up, feeling her heart stir. "I went out to greet you and found this beautiful creature. He was sleeping and alone, so I decided to keep him company until someone came to claim to be the father of this beautiful peach." J.J couldn't fall for the charms of that baby, after becoming a mother her Achilles heel was children.

"Was he alone, Penelope, are you sure there was no one with him?" Luke couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that they had left a baby, alone, in the middle of a hallway in a federal building. "Positive, I've been there for about ten minutes and I haven't seen anyone approach him."

The team brought their full attention to the mysterious stroller, looking for some sign of what would be the perpetrators. Hanging there was a gray-colored bag with a small giraffe keychain; inside it was the necessities for any kind of emergency that might happen. Diapers, change of clothes, some food, powdered milk, a bottle, everything necessary for a baby.

"We should check the cameras to see who brought him here" Matt suggested, feeling his nose being invaded by the smell of baby cologne, a very mild and almost hypnotic one.

"It's a blind spot, Matt." Tara replied, noticing how the little guy rolled over and let out an adorable yawn, falling back asleep. "He's too cute." Penelope's eyes seemed to shoot hearts.

"We should move him out of the hallway, it's drafty and he might catch a cold." J.J brought her hands up to the carriage and began to push it, being followed by the rest of the people back to their cubicles.

Despite the movement, the little boy, who was now nicknamed "peach" thanks to Garcia, remained in that deep sleep.

"I wish I had that deep sleep" Emily smiled, looking at peach's features.

He looked like someone.

Who was it?

"I want to go back to those times where my only problem was sleeping and eating" Rossi commented, causing his colleagues to laugh.

"I don't understand how a baby could have gotten up there without anyone seeing him. It's a building full of federal agents, there's no way no one saw anything." Matt nodded at Luke's words. "Let's jump to conclusions, how did a sleeping baby get here? There's no way he pushed his own car to get here." J.J peeled his gaze from the car, feeling a light bulb in his head turn on.

"In the bag there were juice boxes, it is unlikely that they are for him. It is recommended that at twelve months they can only have juice, so they may be from the parent or he has a brother or sister accompanying him" Rossi smiled, nodding at the words the young woman was saying. It was quite logical coming from the mother bear.

"If that were so, where is this responsabl-"

"Excuse me," A high pitched voice interrupted Luke's sentence "I believe you have my brother."

The group turned to see where the voice was coming from. A small figure was standing behind them, he looked quite calm and was running his hands down his brown pants.

The small glasses were drooping down the bridge of his nose, his hair was disheveled just like his little brother's and his hands were arranging the sleeves of his blue hoodie.

"I-is he your brother?" Emily stood at the height of the youngest, who was nodding before he approached the baby carriage and took to watching the little one, inwardly thankful that he remained in his deep sleep.

"I just went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone." The little boy drew an elongated smile, taking in the faces of everyone around the stroller. " You're federal agents, so I didn't panic too much when I didn't see him."

The boy settled on the floor, taking off the backpack he was carrying and pulled out of it a book, which had in golden letters the title of "The Little Prince." Apparently, it was in French.

"How do you know we're federal agents?" Luke seemed just as surprised as the others, who didn't understand how the youngest could remain calm after taking his brother away, and besides, he knew they were federal agents.

"It says so on your badge, sir" The small hand pointed in the direction of the badge hanging from his pants, causing everyone to turn their gaze to it. "Besides, my mom told me."

"And where is your mom?" Rossi was the one who took the word, smiling at the confidence the young man possessed.

"That's a good question, sir. I'd like to know where she is, too." He shrugged, trying to remember what the woman had told him before leaving him in the hallway of the BAU office. "I know she told me, but at the moment I can't remember. It was too noisy when she said it."

The rest were silent. The little boy was handling a rather formal vocabulary, one that is very strange for his age, plus he looked quite interested in reading his book than paying attention to the rest of the stares.

"Excuse me, sweetheart… But how old are you?" Penelope smiled friendly towards the young man, who took his eyes off his interesting book.

"Five and a half, but many say from the way I talk I'm older."

Luke opened his mouth, surprised at the young age he possessed and that, moreover, he was in charge of his brother.

"What about your brother, how old is he?"

"He's eight months and two weeks old, he's still not close enough to say he's nine months old, so I'd rather be exact."

Emily was increasingly sure that he looked like an exact copy of someone she knows, but she couldn't associate it.

"Even so," Continued the young boy "there's something you guys haven't asked me" the book took a step back, closing it and setting it down on his lap.

"What's that, kiddo?" Tara asked.

"My name or my brother's" The group looked at each other. He was right, they had been so preoccupied with finding out about the person in charge of them or their age that they had overlooked asking his name.

"You're right, that was rude of us, what's your name?" Matt fixed his gaze on the young figure, who was giving them a smile where one of his front teeth was missing.

"I'm Alex, well… Actually my name is Alexander, but my mom and dad call me Alex, except when they're mad." A small giggle escaped Jennifer's mouth. "And my brother's name is Oliver, but we call him Oli."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex." Matt's hand extended in the direction of the little boy, who shook it with a smile. "What about you guys, what are your names?"

The group smiled, introducing themselves to each other so that the young boy could remember each name without a problem. After this, the little boy began to repeat the names, making sure he could remember each one well and be able to get each name right.

"Okay, Alex. Now that we know each other, I want to ask you a question" J.J addressed the little one, who gave him his full attention.

"Shoot, Miss J.J" His answer caused everyone to laugh, letting the little guy's charisma win them over.

"What are you doing here? I don't think you decided to come here at nine o'clock at night with your brother and mother just to see the place."

"Well, we actually came to see my dad." Admitted the little boy, adjusting his glasses.

"Your dad? And where is he?" Penelope searched with her gaze, as if she were on her computer looking up the information on her servers.

"It's a surprise! Dad doesn't know we're here, it's the first time we've come to see him at work. I wanted to surprise him so I asked Mom if she could bring me here, and since I've been good, she agreed." Proudly, Alex reached into his backpack for a neatly folded piece of paper. He opened it and held it out to J.J., who was surprised at the grades on that slip of paper.

"Wow, I see only A's here" The printout passed from hand to hand, noting that every course had been passed with the highest grade.

"Yep, even sports! Mr. Adams, my teacher, said I'd been the fastest in the class. Even though I prefer literature, I got along better with letters than balls."

Emily was sure she was a clear copy of the youngest on her team, Spencer Reid.

Wait, where was Spencer?

"Where is Spencer?" Emily turned her gaze to her buddies, who were handing the paper back to Alex so he could put it in his backpack.

"He said he was going to do some stuff on the fourth floor, then he'd be on his way here." Tara replied, turning her attention back to the little boy. "By the way, what's your dad's name? Maybe we can help you look for him, we're the best profiling group in the whole FBI, so we can find him fast."

"His name is Dad!"

"And what's your mom's name?"

"Mom?"

The group went blank. It was clear that a five-year-old wouldn't know what his father or mother's name was. Despite being quite intelligent, to him his parents were called "Mom and Dad."

But it seemed they had managed to summon something, for after mentioning the progenitor of both, little Oliver interrupted their conversation with a whimper announcing that his bedtime was over, plus his beloved mother figure was missing.

"Oh no…"

Alex moved in the direction of the backpack, opening it to look for his brother's pacifier.

The longer they lingered, the louder and louder the little boy's crying got. J.J tried to cuddle him, trying to soothe him while Emily rocked the stroller back and forth and Tara hummed a lullaby.

Luke and Matt were trying to distract him, waving their hands in front of him and making funny faces. Rossi was trying to help Penelope and little Alex with the search for the pacifier, who would occasionally bring his hands to his ears to stop the sound of his brother for a couple of seconds.

But silence came in surprise, causing everyone to stop their actions. Their gazes turned to the baby, who was giving a giggly laugh and wiggling his feet, babbling something. It looked like Oliver was feeling something.

"What's going on here?" a female voice interrupted them, again directing their gaze back.

A tall woman, who was wearing a simple beige sweater and black pants plus black converses, was approaching the stroller. The group of people moved away from her, who was leaving a plastic bag with a box in it on one of the desks and holding the baby in her hands.

She made sure to settle him on her shoulder, stroking his back slowly. Alex smiled, moving closer to the young woman and hugged her side, letting his glasses lift a little from being so tight against her.

"Mommy! Where were you, I thought you'd left me alone forever! Well… Not alone, I was with Oli but you know what I mean." The woman let out a giggle, bringing her free hand to the younger one's disheveled hair and stroked it, feeling the younger one squeeze tighter and tighter.

"Alex, love, I told you I was going to the store to buy Daddy's donuts, don't you remember?" She pushed little Oliver away so she could kiss his forehead and settle him back into the stroller. Her hands, now free, went to Oli's side and took a small pacifier, bringing it up to the baby's mouth, which he immediately accepted to begin sucking on.

"Oh… That's what you told me."

Thewhole group let out a laugh, noticing the little one's rosy cheeks. The woman, now recognized as "mommy", turned to look at the group who had taken it upon themselves to care for her two children.

"Gee, sorry for ignoring you guys." The girl giggled, giving them the same look Alex had given them a few minutes ago, fixing on each one. "Thanks for watching them, I know Alex is responsible, but I'm glad to know there were older ones around."

"You don't have to, Alex was a sweetheart. We were nosy and took his little brother, it was our mistake." Emily admitted.

"That's right, Mommy! I went to the bathroom and they had taken Oli" The young woman simply laughed, kissing the younger boy's forehead before speaking again.

"It's okay, kiddo. They did the right thing, they did the reasonable thing."

"We tried to find out who his parents were, but he told us their names were mom and dad" Alex nodded, looking at his progenitor who seemed quite amused by the whole situation.

Alex took her mother's hand, motioning her to come closer to tell her something. The female complied, listening intently to what her young son was saying before she let out a giggle and nodded, returning to her position.

"Well, actually called me mommy. But before I was called mommy I had another name, pumpkin. My name is Amanda, but at home they call me mommy or baba." Alex opened his eyes, surprised that his mother had another name besides "mommy."

"It's a pleasure, Amanda. I see all your names start with a vowel." Rossi was the first to speak, reaching out to shake Amanda's hand. "Your husband's too?"

"No, he's the exception." The femme admitted, beginning to wave to the round of people standing there.

For a couple of minutes, the group began a pleasant conversation where they talked about the time she was missing. They had jumped to the wildest conclusions, but they knew that at some point they would meet the mother of those two angels.

"Oh, I bought a lot of donuts now that I remember, do you like them? They're my husband's favorite." The woman walked over to the bag, from which she pulled out the box and smiled.

The group appreciated the gesture, beginning to receive and distribute the pastry among those present.

A chocolate-covered doughnut with sprinkles on top was received by each person.

Wait… Her husband's favorite?

Emily looked at the two little ones, then her gaze went to the young woman, then to the doughnut and her eyes went back to the little ones.

Emily could feel her head smoking from the way she worked.

No, it wasn't possible.

Spencer would have told her if it was.

"Excuse me, Amanda…" The mentioned one looked up, fixing her gaze on Emily as little Alex took small bites of his donut and shared it with his mother. "What-what did you say your husband's name was?"

"Oh! I didn't say it, actually." She admitted, taking a bite of the donut she was sharing with Alex. "His name is Spe-"

The answer interrupted by the shout Alex gave, turning away from his mother to run down the hallway for the new presence.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer peered down the elevator, noticing how the small little man ran into his arms and pounced on him.

"Alex! What are you doing here, little one?" He carried the little guy, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek and looked him in the face. His cheeks were covered with chocolate and his glasses were drooping gracefully down his nose. "Are you alone, who brought you?"

"Mom did!" The youngest was smiling happily, playing with his progenitor's hair. "Dad, did you know Mom has another name besides Mom, her name is Amanda!"

"Yes, buddy. I knew mommy's name was Amanda, but I affectionately call her Mandi."

"I thought you called her Mommy, not Mandi."

Spencer carried his little boy over to the cubicles, finding his work group/friends staring at him with stupefaction on their faces. He was sure their faces were perfect for being part of a surreal painting.

"Spence, surprise." Amanda approached the man, leaving a kiss on his lips and received her husband's kiss back.

"What are you two doing here?" Spencer looked at his family with some surprise.

"Three, daddy. Oli's here too" The little hand pointed toward the stroller, where the movement of the youngest of the Reid family could be heard.

Spencer walked over to the baby carriage, leaving the eldest of the Reid brothers on the floor and peeked out so he could see his little boy, his newest devotion.

"Hi Oli, are you awake yet? Daddy's here." Oliver watched his father with his big hazel eyes, moving his hands so he could reach one of his father's curls. "Hey, buddy. How big are you." The man took the little guy in his hands, drawing him into his body so he could carry him, smiling at the feel of his son's movement stopping as he began to pet him.

The whole group was silent, unable to believe that the youngest of their team had such a well-kept secret.

A wife and two children! How was it possible that even Emily hadn't known about this?

"Spencer…w-what is this? When did you intend to tell us? About your wife, about your children, about-about this!" Emily waved her hands around trying to take in the situation, feeling the pieces of the puzzle coming together on their own.

"I thought Hotch was going to tell you before he left." Spencer looked at the group of people, stopping his gaze on his wife who lifts her shoulders, trying to tell him "don't even look at me, I didn't say anything."

"Clearly he didn't say it" Jennifer looked at her best friend, trying to look as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible, I guess no one was trying to "act cool" at that moment.

"Well, I guess it's time to introduce you to my family." Amanda smiled, leaning against one of the desks as she watched Alex approach her. "This is Amanda, Amanda Reid, my wife" The young woman waved her hand, crossing her arms again with a smile on her mouth. She loved that he said my wife. "This is Alexander Reid and Oliver Reid, Alex and Oli of affection." Little Alex smiled, again waving to everyone with his hand and took what was left of the donut his mother offered him.

"How long have you been married?" Next to speak was Rossi, who felt Hotch had betrayed him by keeping that secret so long.

"Well, married… we've been married for five years. Dating we've been dating for seven…" Amanda turned to look at her husband.

"Seven years, five months and thirteen days." Spencer nodded, looking down at the baby who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"So…" Matt looked over at Alexander, who looked amused eating the sprinkles on top of the donut.

"Yeah, Alex was a surprise. We knew we wanted to be parents, but we wanted to live together first, and well… The first night of living together caused Alex's arrival." Amanda laughed with her cheeks flushed, noticing how Spencer's cheeks were also filled with that crimson red. "Oli arrived after a couple of tries. We didn't want Alex to be alone and have to read all the books to himself."

"Now he reads Oli to sleep, like the good big brother he is" Spencer smiled, placing little Oliver in the most comfortable place to sleep.

After that confession, the pair settled in at the desk where the woman was sitting.

"I have so many questions I can't process, I really don't understand. So…how come we didn't see this in your apartment when you went to jail? We'd be completely blind if we hadn't noticed." Penelope had gotten to a good point, causing the friends to nod and the pair looked at each other before they could respond.

"It's because you guys went to Spence's old apartment." Amanda replied. "When we had Alex, we outgrew the apartment. We tried to look at an apartment in the same building, but they were all the same, so we pooled our paychecks and managed to rent a slightly larger apartment down the street from there. After Oliver came along we had to move to a bigger place." Spencer nodded, wiping the corner of his son's lip, which was full of chocolate. "But when Spence needs to focus, he goes to his old apartment to work. Diana was living there for a season and then she came to our house." The young woman pushed her hair back, feeling her husband's warm hand wrap around her hip.

The group was attentive to what they were saying, nodding at every word and concentrating on the story they had for them. Like little children, they formed around the young couple to follow their narrative.

"When Mexico and jail happened, it was really an ordeal. Hotch called us to get into the program with him and Jack, we had to go into hiding because we were Spencer's immediate family. Before Diana could hide she was kidnapped and, well, you know the rest of the story." Amanda's hand went to her son's hair, playing with the unruly locks of the scalp. They were exactly the same as his father's.

"But we would have known, I would have figured it out! H-how did you…?" Penelope was utterly convinced she would have found that information.

"It wasn't in the system." Spencer admitted. "I begged Hotch not to release it, it's manually, on paper. But online it's not, it was more likely to endanger my family." The young couple looked at each other and gave each other a smile. Sighing, Spencer continued. "Something like Foyet and Hotch would have happened, it was too dangerous. I wasn't willing to lose them and place them in danger."

Finally, the group of people began to understand, nodding at what he was saying and relaxing after that news.

"Spence had intended to tell them, but after Cat Adams, Scratch, Mexico, jail, Diana… I don't know when the time was right, to be honest with you." A collective chuckle filled the room echoing at that moment.

"Wow Spencer, you sure had this secret well hidden." Luke smiled, patting the younger man on the back, who was grinning broadly after breaking free of that secret that had him gnawing inside.

"Well, it's never too late to throw a welcome home party for the new family." Rossi smiled, moving closer to Amanda so he could hug her.

Mandi smiled receiving greetings from everyone, feeling like she was home.

"Good, then I'll start buying presents from now on. For both Oliver and Alex." Penelope smiled, receiving a wide smile from Alexander, who was the most excited to receive gifts. "I've missed so many birthdays and Christmases already."

"So…" Alex stole glances at everyone, who looked quite intrigued by his words. "Can I tell you aunties and uncles?"

That was the straw that broke the excitement level in the entire group, causing everyone to nod and smile broadly, feeling their chest heaving with joy.

"Did you see, Alex? Now you have lots of aunts and uncles to share, plus cousins." Spencer fell into step with his son, who was hugging him by the neck with a smile.

"That's right daddy, lots and lots!" The little boy turned to look at them all before stretching his arms out to hang around Luke's neck, who was greeting him with a smile that went so far as to make his cheeks ache.

The entire group stayed talking for a couple more minutes before deciding to head home to relax after a full day full of excitement.

Before she could get on the elevator, Emily smiled in the direction of the group of people.

"I think we know who his daddy is." Tara's whisper caused Emily to laugh and step onto the elevator, letting the doors close and signal the end of the work day.

The day had closed on a high note, not only for the capture of a criminal, but also for the discovery of a new family.

And Spencer couldn't be happier to finally reunite their families.

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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

kissesssss, bai. 💕

[sapphia]

so recently, scar has gotten good at minecraft. like, really good. if you watch his old stuff, it doesn't take much to see that scar's strengths generally used to lie outside of the actual, run-around-without-dying-especially-on-a-pvp-server level of play. and that's fine, it wasn't his jig, and the people he's playing with really are very good and very experienced at this sort of play. so it never needed to be something that scar was good at because his fanbase mostly watched him for other reasons, so that just wasn't something he needed to be able to do.

but for a while now, especially noticeable over the life series, he's been rapidly improving at the sorts of particular skills that the life smp server values (and also certain skillsets involved in MCC, too). The water bucket clutches spring to mind, as well as the hot-guy stuff that make him such a lethal force with a bow. (It's honestly a shame that life smp doesn't have elytra -- he regularly one-shots people from the air on hermitcraft, and it's a fantastic bit.)

And it's just so good to see because like... he didn't have to go and do that! he went and practiced those skills, and got good at them, and then came and showed them off. and it was awesome, but also he made it so creative and entertaining, and he really didn't have to do any of it at all if he hadn't wanted to. people don't play on life smp because they're good at the technical elements of the game. more than anyone else, scar's particular shenanigans and the energy he brings to the server are what make him a great fit for the series. there are plenty of players on life smp who aren't great PVPers but who get by on politicking, or scheming, or storytelling, or just generally being a good time to be around, and each of them makes the smp tick and are valuable in their own way.

not to mention that life smp is made up of such a wonderful group of human beings that they'll do whatever it takes for you to fit in. to make your thing, and your particular energy and abilities, a part of of the series. to make it that you aren't hampered by your abilities and handicaps, whatever they may be. when skizz dies early on to some early misfortune in limited life, people are pretty clearly aware that he's one of the weaker players and it might impede his ability to have a full series. but don't worry, because half the server are tripping over themselves to give him their time and lives and totems and to swear undying oaths of fealty to protect him at all costs. grian, martyn, tango, literally every one of the ties - not to mention everyone who stood around and watched as skizz killed tango - all are working together and giving up things, valuable things, to make sure this one player gets to keep time on the server, and therefore time on the series, just because that's who they are. that's what the server is. friends, playing together.

i'm sure that's also why grain stuck with scar in the first series: to make it fair. they want everyone to have a good time. To be able to do their own thing, whatever that thing is you bring to the server, be it your insane PVP skills or trying to scam players by selling them magic crystals.

which is a long way of saying: scar was under no obligation whatsoever to get good at these player-skill-based elements of minecraft. but it's wonderful that he did! he really said, "look, i know you all think i'm a walking disaster, but i need you to know, it's not because i'm bad at the game. it's because i'm me." and then he went and got crazy good at archery (well, okay, crazy good at one very specific archery move, but also pretty damn good at shooting things overall! and at flying!) and he started parkouring around a bunch and now he's mastered waterbucket clutches (and what a fucking display he got to show off in double life, too) and just all around Got Good at the things that he wasn't previously that good at.

and the best thing was that he's still such an irreverent force of chaos that it hasn't even mattered. he's still just as lethal to himself through his own terrible decisions and random lack of awareness or foresight. or even just his own desire to fun, no matter what. the man really went into a hardcore server and said alright, i'm gonna build my base up high enough to definitely kill me, and also make it out of trap doors, and oh grians here, oops i'm sure that won't go wrong. and then he went and died to his elytra failing. that's just the most scar thing I've ever seen. you can't even fault him because grain also died on that server. only joel properly made 100 hours and there's no surprises there, joel is insanely good. so its no mark against scar that he died. but how he plays it, it's just so him.

and you wouldn't have it any other way because this is why we watch him. he's entertaining because he's totally unpredictable and also predictable and good and bad and competent and incompetent all at the same time. he will waterbucket-clutch INTO an impossible situation to save a bunch of useless pandas that were almost definitely going to die and he'll get away with it. and then also he will die by setting off a trap he's trying to very obviously lure others into. yes also he fell into a pit of zombies, what of it? it's just scar and his wacky hijinks. will he die? lets find out!

scar really said the only thing holding me back is me, and then proved it.

[dutifullyscreechingdragon]

Blitzø X human!assassin! Reader

First encounter

Summary: Blitzø gets a commission for your murder. Naturally, you'd prefer not to get murdered. Unlike his previous victims, you actually have the skills to avoid bullets... And to charm the imp.

A/n: This is the first part of the short series. I will definitely post at least two more parts. Here you have links to all the parts currently available:

Part 1: First Encounter -> you're here:)

Part 2: Blooming feelings

You were an assassin

But unlike Blitzø, you were selective in your targets. You didn't JUST kill. You killed the worst of the worst: rapists, murderers, basically the scum of the Earth

No wonder, you ended up on Blitzø's hit list. You had a lot of enemies in hell, it was only a matter of time, until one of them commissioned your death.

Yes, your line of job was dangerous and demanded killing people. You know what else it demanded? Not being killed in return

Which is why Blitzø's first assault on you failed miserably:

You were walking down the street, minding your business, really. You were off work (aka not killing people at the moment). A rare occasion, which is why you decided to use it to the max and enjoy your day to the fullest. So yes, you were making your way down the street.

That's when the shooting started. To say you were pissed would be an understatement of the year.

"Come on" you grumbled falling to the ground, trying to avoid the bullets "Why can't I have a single day without having to fight for my life?"

Blitzø didn't expect this to be a hard job.

He didn't think of you as a strong or capable, for that matter, oponent.

You didn't think this fight would last long.

You didn't think your assailant was very much capable either.

Needless to say, both of you were very much wrong.

Half an hour has gone by and your fight was still in progress. You were currently behind a car, which was starting to get filled with more and more bullet holes.

"Hey! Maybe stop wasting bullets?" You shouted in frustration.

"Wouldn't have to if you just died" you got a reply. You rolled your eyes. "And anyways, why are you bitching about my shooting? Like you could do better" his voice was grumpy, like a small child about to throw a tantrum

"Yeah, I actually could. I'd kill you with one"

"Why haven't ya then?"

"I forgot my gun at home" was your pissed reply

You heard laughter from the other side of your impromptu hiding spot.

"Haha that fucking sucks for ya, bitch"

"Yeah, I figured that much..." You said in resignation.

You risked a glance from behind the car and earned yourself a rain of bullets.

That's how you spent the next 20 minutes: exchanging quips, followed by series of machine gun fire and repeat.

Sometimes you had to change your place of cover, seeing as the assailant managed to destroy it or approach you from the side.

And finaly, time came for the question:

"Why'd you want to kill me anyway?"

"Well, hmmmm" the shooting stopped for a moment. 'Guess we're back to talking', you thought.

"How do I say it?" He continued nonchalantly "I got a comission to kill ya. Got paid hard cash for it. So soz, but ya gotta go babe. Nooooo hard feelings" he said in a childish, mocking voice.

"Oh! Who was it?"

"Whaaaat?"

"I mean, who payed for my ticket to the other side?" You clarified.

"Uhh just some dude named-"

"Wait! No! Let me guess" he didn't protest, so you started listing off names:

"Was it... Rogers? Adams? Smith? It must've been Smith, that son of a gun had it out for me" seeing as he didn't confirm it, you continued, "Not Smith, then. Uhhh Carols? Barnes? Danvers? No? Was it the leader of that cartel I shut down a month ago?"

Finally Blitzø had to interrupt and actually tell you who it was. He was startled (and slightly impressed) by how many people actualy wanted you dead

When he ran out of bullets, time came for hand to hand combat. You didn't disappoint him in this area either.

Aaaand you got a chance to get a better look at the guy. Though.... you had your doubts whether it was a 'guy'... His skin was red, with some white marks, and he had horns, long, curving slightly towards the end. From your rich experience with human beings, he definitely wasn't one...

You ducked from a punch coming your way and retaliated with a sweeping roundhouse kick.

"What's" you said between the heavy breaths of exhaustion "your... Name?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Blitzø, the o is silent" he breathed out "Yours?"

"Y/n" you replied

"Cool" he replied as a few more punches came your way. A bit later he continued:

"Now if you'd let me do my job..."

"Gosh, you're so stupid. This is so inefficient" you stopped abruptly, causing him to stop as well.

"I can't just let you go. I have to kill you!"

"Ugghhh, don't you get it? You should wait until your have at least 5 more murder requests for me. That way you get quantuple the amount of money. Gosh you're so stupid "

"So, you don't mind me killing you? Cuz, you see, that's kind of hard to believe, sweetcheecks"

"Look, I'm telling you the most efficient way to use your resources. I'm not telling you I'd be an easy kill...."

"Well I guess I could-" Blitzo was cut off by an explosion. The air was filled with smoke. In one swift movement, you jumped over a fence and a few minutes later you were on your merry way home.

You see, you weren't just idly hiding from the bullets.

You didn't have ammo, but you had knowledge and... Some chemicals you forgot to unpack from your bag. With your limited supply, you managed to produce some semblance of a smoke bomb.

And that's how you got away.

Blitzø tracked you down again. And you escaped. So he found you again, and you managed to avoid death oncemore

At first, you took your 'rivalry' seriously, you really did. But there's only that many times you can engage in mortal combat with a person before it becomes ridiculous to deny that there is more to it than just killing each other.

You realised, that you started to look forward to Blitzø's surprise attacks. And Blitzø realised that maybe sometimes he has been throwing off his aim on purpose

Both of you were scared to admit your feelings, but the whole endeavour was starting to cross the line to absurdity

Something needed to be done about it

So..... You took the initiative:

It was another fight. It was becoming a routine by now. This one, however, would end with a small twist

The smoke bomb went off, you could hear the shattering of glass and the revving of the motorbike. Y/n was gone.

"And she's gone..." Blitzø stated and was about to leave through the portal, when Moxxie pulled his sleeve:

"Sir, there's a card on the floor"

Blitzo picked it up, it was a note. In a neat handwriting the following was written:

Despite being sent to kill me

(and failing miserably),

you're chill

Call me:)

314 159 2653

You got a text this very evening

A/n: that's part 1! Hope you liked it:) The second part will encompass your and Blitzo's developing relationship… so.... Stay tuned ig

(I'll probably post it somewhere around 6th or 7th May?)

[dino--draws]

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE NEARLY TWO HOUR ADMONITION + EXTRAS POWER POINT

I recorded it and me and my friends do wanna edit it and be silly w/ it so you may actually get to hear the presentation [and if you want the presentation itself just shoot me a dm on discord or smth] at some point but!

"Enter this freak! [image of McDoctorate]" "he looks like weird al.............."

"whats this guys name?" "FUNNY YOU ASK THAT [goes to slide that says 'whats this guys name?']"

"Damn! Sucks for Abbie, man I was invested." "I KNOW I WAS SO SAD SHE DIED." "This is a loss for women." "This was NOT a win for feminism."

"This is the REISNO Cannon!" "...thats a guy." "IGNORE THE GUY IGNORE THE GUY!"

"Failing to fulfil the causal loop causes a paradox. So let's cause a paradox! This is Dougall Deering, a bitchass motherfucker that nobody likes!"

"This is the significance of September 8th!" "...the queen......" "Queen Elizabeth died!! This isn't relevant!"

[Someone I do not know came in and sat down to listen for a bit]

"So you guys know Weirdmaggedon right?"

"And then the therapist dies and it all gets worse."

"So it'll come back, right? Right??? [long pause] There is no cannon." "Ha."

"So you may be wondering 'where the fuck did he go?' and now we finally get into Admonition."

"Because we can't use Narrative travel to jump genres we're writing the Fix-it Fic in the Hurt No Comfort AU. I don't know why I worded it like that in the slide." "That's my fault." "Nonono you're right there."

"They use it to terminate anomalies!!" "Not the ANTIKILL facility.........."

"It was all going dandy and functional until they did something stupid and hubris."

[Me calling the PH-GOS "the silly device"]

"Oh no! Who could've seen this coming!" cries the dumb fucks who should've realized this was an exercise in facility forty years ago."

[A second, new person appears to listen in]

"Say it with me now: YOU CAN'T KILL A LIZARD [several people do say it with me now]"

"Anti-idea???" "Yes, anti-idea."

"We're gonna PEMDAS the starfish!"

"Nice try guys, it didn't work but it wrote them a poem." "Awhhh,,"

"AND THEN THE UNIVERSE FUCKING ENDED!" "Oh it's over already?" "WOAAHHH"

"You may be wondering how the FUCK this is the first article in this series. Well you haven't seen NOTHIN' yet."

"I understand why this is making you insane." "Yeah no I get it."

"Is he [PHMD] a creative

"Director Johnathan King is fucking dead!" "Who??" "Don't worry about it he's not important." "He sounds like he is!" "The only thing you need to know is that he's dead."

"IS THAT JERMA?" "where?" "WHY IS JERMA THERE!" "THATS JERMA???" [me having to explain Jerma]

"Our budget took a hit! So we're gonna devote all resources to build this thing! For the budget!"

"Why are we doing this?" "Because we need to make a man un-die but no other necromancy is working."

"

"WHY IS HE A CAT??" "Don't worry about it." "These two don't have faceclaims to my knowledge so have Dir. Vehmoff looking at manga and catboy Dir. Asheworth (catboyism not relevant here, 120 directorism relevant here)." "He seems sad." "He is sad."

"SO ASHEWORTH ✨ EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATES ✨ HIM INTO VOTING IN X/MACHINA’S FAVOR USING HIS DEAD FRIEND AS LEVERAGE!" "whys theres a 50% opacity dog...." "don't worry about it!"

"If this man says it's safe, I don't know what else to tell you. DRAMATIC IRONY IS A LITERARY DEVICE IN WHICH--"

[Me going off script to briefly and VERY excitedly ramble about pataphysics]

[My one friend comparing generic vs protagonist vs archetypical to a/b/o and me threatening to end her life several times before moving on in the excited ramble and we all think its cool as fuck btw]

"I'm gonna read this [the 6747 imagion particles stuff] because I think it's cool and its my presentation."

"So? When's the other shoe gonna drop?" "Probably right now." "Yes!"

"So sometimes we taze it! Personnel are to be reminded that its totally dead and we totally aren’t lying to your face. The therapist we hired to taze the brain wants to be amnestizied of tazing the brain. We told her no. sorry Ngo." "Hah." "Ngo,,,,,,,,,"

"also his name is sparky...." "well thank god for that."

"It's becoming bad fanfiction." "They're all having sex." "No they're not, there's no sex in this." "We are reading very different bad fanfiction." "Yes we are!"

[My roommate googling 2747 bazongas]

"I wanna punt him [PHMD] like a football." "Good he deserves it."

"GET IN LOSER! We're killing gods!"

"What Dr. Blake is about to do has not been approved by the Vatican." [My friends loose their shit]

"That's right babey! It's the motherfucking starfish again!" "WHAT??" "Oh shit!!"

"PHMD’s plan is to create an Unbound Prometheus to help them find the God within the human mind. And not in the Frankenstein sense i mean he wants to unbind Prometheus and promote him as the God of Humanity. And everyone is just ok with this!?!?!?! [I am gesturing frantically and my voice is cracking like hell] Like they restructure the education system and everything to incorporate this and the Foundation starts to pray to Prometheus and all that???? its wild and so casually mentioned too, but here we go we’re doin this!!"

"oh my god he's the modern Prometheus." "HE'S THE MODERN PROMETHEUS!!!!"

"ignore the fact they've given people early onset dementia."

"the exhilaration of severing a finger from a squirming human hand (ie. transcendence). [Pause] WELL AIN'T THAT JUST PEACHY :D"

''that was the SHORT ONE?" "Short and sweet! Not simple and short." "Heeheheh, yeah."

"It's killing all AI!" "yaaaaaaaaaaaaayy!"

"SO NOW DISREGARD THAT LAST SLIDE! BECAUSE I LIED TO YOU!!" "why would you do that,,,?" "what????" "THERE'S NO VIRUS. IT'S ANOTHER GOD DAMN FOUNDATION MADE EIGENMACHINE. THE VIRUS IS A COVER UP." "why are you talking like a republican conspiracy theorist."

"That's really fucked up, thank you!" "ISN'T IT???"

"Please take note to behold the comedic amount of power that LOTUS needs."

"I love 28 nuclear reactors."

"So things go to shit pretty fast! Cause guess what? PHMD touched the damn machine."

"So yeah these guys have no right to be surprised when it starts interring all AI, even the most simplest of spellcheckers." "Not Grammarly!!!" "yup, LOTUS got it."

"isn't LOTUS itself an AI..?" [I turn my head slowly and grin at them in dead silence] "oh great thanks." "we'll get to that :) we'll get to that :)))"

"Have you tried turning it on and off again?"

"Problem solved, right? [next slide] SO EVERYTHING GETS IMMEDIATELY WORSE!!!!"

"Lunar Area-23 is gone." "THEY TOOK THE MOON??" "you know who else takes the moon? Gru." "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT."

[my friends horrified look as I describe Hishakaku's hostile takeover]

"He demoted him and erased his mind, because the Foundation can just do that, by the way." "Oh! :D Ok! :D"

"WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME IF I SAID IT GETS EVEN WORSE? Because I lied to you again!!! OCI does not stand for Obtuse Computation Interface. It stands for Organic Consciousness Interface. THAT'S RIGHT! HISHKAKAU WAS PUTTING BRAINS IN JARS!"

"Not Head of Disinformation that's craaazy," "Yeah they just have that." "I wanna be CEO of lying."

"Wow fuck this guy."

[My one friend making a rainbow dash jar joke like right before the slide that has the rainbow dash jar joke]

"LOTUS is flipping its shit."

"THINGS ARE FINALLY DONE GETTING WORSE! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!" "Woah!" "No :D!"

[group cackling at Hishakaku's takedown]

"Why'd they do that???" "because they're fucking fascists!!"

"Oh and by the way the remains of LOTUS have been salvaged for Project ADMONITION." "Ggrrrreeat!!"

"Admonition Episode 5, SCP-7243, Existential Abatement." "I like that its gay :}" "It IS gay!"

"What if the timeloop happened in June."

"He also shows Ngo -- the therapist who was tazing the brain earlier you remember her? -- the item he wanted to give Phillip. A magic box, that makes it seem like the object you’ve put in it vanishes. But there’s no magic at all, just a drawer, just a trick." "Oh boy" "Nnnnnno way." "Wow isn’t that a specific detail I sure hope that isn’t a framing device."

"Dougall asks Amelia what the hell he should do. She tells him three words--" "kill yourself." "No more wast-- no."

"Esoteric waste???" "sent it into space." "we can't do that :("

"You killed my husband." "Yeah that's an actual line in the article." "SDKFJSHDKHFD"

"Oh right yeah there's an SCP object in this article."

[my friends thinking DePLExA is really cool]

[Me pausing for two seconds each time 'waste' pops up]

"They are dumping empty containers into an empty pit. Because if they don’t it’ll cause a paradox. [Pause] You ready to cause another parado-- hold your conceptual horses actually because there's more to explain."

"Esoteric gift horses and their non-existent mouths."

"AND THEN IT ALL GOES TO SHIT! [to the tune of 'and then along came zeus']

"Wait September 8th again??" "It's fucking happening again."

"A magnitude 8.5 earthquake hits." "Ttttttthats not good."

[My friends mounting horror as I just read through the EE-7243 event entirely]

"So it was like putting a lid on a burning pan. But the burning pan is an acromatic abatement facility about to esoterically explode and the lid is a bomb that creates a forcefield"

"Oh hey! We found Amelia!" "Oh!!!" "She's not ok, but she's alive!" "That's a lot!!!" "yeah!!!"

[periodic sounds of me excitedly stimming while talking]

"We're living out of spite!" "that's soooooooooo real," "she's so me!" "I love how she hates her brother-in-law more than she loves her husband." "YEAH KDFJGHDFJKG"

"But they don't have one [O5-9]..." "oops." "Whoops!!"

"GUESS WHAT DOUGALL TURNS AROUND AND DOES? AFTER BEING TOLD NOT TO TAKE SHORTCUTS NOR MIRACLE CURES??? GUESS WHAT HE DOES?" "takes a shortcu--" "HE TAKES A MOTHERFUCKING SHORTCUT!"

[group confusion over Amelia and Dougall marrying eachother]

[Group freakout over Dougall being the entity that killed Phillip]

"What is waste? I guess you finally figured it out, Dougall." "OH MY GOD KDJFGHDKFJGD" "THAT'S HILARIOUS." "THIS IS AN ACTUAL LINE IN THE ARTICLE."

"wwwwait a second, a timeline being cut off from the coalition and the RCT? This is familiar..." "that fucking rubik's cube." "the cube!!"

"He fucked around just to get this timeline kicked out?" "He's throwing for content!!" "He should get twitter cancelled."

"Operation LAST STRAW success--" "Hehehehe"

"Because one of the people who writes this taunts me on tumblr and I go insane on the regular."

"She's from the paradox timeline as well," "how'd she get outtie :(((" "We don't know yet!"

this was 101 slides

"why did y'all let this guy cook??" "this freak cannot handle his trauma in a healthy way."

"He might be trying to become the LOGICIAN and kill his author. But also the LOGICIAN is the author so he may be trying to kill the LOGICIAN." "This is just like Betty from adventure time."

"This powerpoint has DLC content!"

and now my friends wanna read the actual Admo articles I am kicking my feet and giggling fr fr fr fr fr fr fr ehehehehehehehe. my brainworms.................... god im so happy rn you have no idea this is all so cool to me and im so happy my friends thought it was neat,,,,,

[elliewilliamslover]

The Archer

3. Flashback to the Aftermath

Here is the masterlist for this story

"Are you his kid?"

The blonde haired girl asked in a passive aggressive tone. A couple seconds went by, maybe even a minute and the girl against the wall looked up, tears slowly falling down her face as she said one word.

"Yes."

The blonde girl gave her a look of disgust mixed with anger and jumped at Y/n who was still against the wall. She threw her hands around her neck, trying to choke her out. Y/n's hands shot up to her neck trying to pry the blonde's hands off her throat. "Let go of me you fucker." She said when the girl's hands on her neck were slightly loose but quickly went back and squeezed harder. The girl on the floor was slowly drifting in and out as her vision started to go black and her breathing was slowing down. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when all of a sudden the door burst open.

"Abby! Wait! Abby stop!" She heard a guy's voice enter the room. Soon her grip was finally off her neck and her vision came back. Coughing over and over again, trying to regain consciousness she realized her back was against one of the people that pulled them apart. "She didn't have anything to do with it Abs, she was locked in this room the whole time, she didn't do anything." The guy that was holding her upright said. She looked at his face and noted what he looked like, short brown hair, almost buzzed look, brown eyes, with a firefly pendant hanging down from his neck. "Owen Moore." She read in a soft raspy voice.

He looked down at her quickly and back up to the girl she could now put a name to the face and told the guy behind her that was holding her to most likely take her out of the room which he did. Y/n couldn't really hear anything as her ears were ringing. Before he left she got a good look at the guy that was holding Abby. Black hair, a small beard and he had a firefly pendant on as well. When the guy left with the girl Abby, Owen looked down at the girl he pulled back from Abby's chokehold and saw her slowly falling out concisely. "Hey, hey hey, hey! Stay with me, come on!" Owen said lightly tapping her on the cheek of her face. "Stay with me." He said, shaking her head.

None of his attempts to keep her awake worked as she gave up trying to keep herself awake and she soon slipped into a dreamless sleep.

"Wakey, wakey." She heard muffled as someone slapped her face lightly making her slowly regain consciousness. "Wake up!" She heard again, making her eyes shoot open. Y/n sat up and saw five people standing around her, watching her as if she'll try and make an escape. She looked around in confusion questioning herself about how she's still even blinking. "You passed out-" "due to lack of oxygen, even the dumbest fuckin person could know that." A guy with a baseball cap interrupted the girl standing to your right, both not too older than Y/n herself. "Hey, don't listen to him, he's always an ass, I'm Mel." The girl standing on her right said with a comforting voice. "Uh, hello?" Y/n said in confusion.

"Why do you have that look on your face?" A thick accent asked. She looked over and saw the guy that pulled the Abby girl off of you. "I'm wondering why I'm still alive and waiting for one of you guys to shoot me in the head." Y/n said as clearly as she could. "Ah, we won't shoot you senorita. Believe us, we don't want to kill you or do anything of that sort." He said "Alright?" She said, confused. "I'm Manny by the way." He said holding his hand out for her to shake. She grabbed it and slowly shook it. "Y/n." She said. She let go of his hand and said "Well if you guys don't want to kill me then what do you want?"

"We know you didn't have anything to do with the massacre yesterday and we know you didn't help with it so we have nothing to put against you, simple as that. We don't want you to leave cause you're too important and you'll obviously get yourself killed being out there alone. So we all agreed along with a few of the soldiers that are left, we need everyone we can get, especially soldiers and with enough toughing up, you would become a great soldier. We need you with us, whether you are related to him or not. What do you say?" Owen said to the y/h/c haired girl. Y/n looked down at his hand that was held out for her, waiting for her to shake it, hoping she takes the offer. She stared at his hand for a couple seconds before making her final decision.

Y/n took his hand in her own and shook it. "Fuck it, I have nothing else to lose anymore." She said, Owen looked her in the eyes after she said the last part. He brought her into a small hug and said to her in a whisper,

"Well now you do, welcome to the Fireflies Y/n."

[heavensbeehall]

"Catching Fire", Chapter 12

Part 2: The Quell

Chapter 12: (I accidentally scheduled 11 and 10 out of order yesterday so I went ahead and put them both up) The Preps appear to get Katniss ready for her wedding dress photo shoot. By asking about shortages in the Capitol, Katniss figures out that there have been Uprisings in 3, 4 and 8. Later she talks to Haymitch about Uprisings and such. Prim is excited to see Katniss's dresses on a mandatory viewing but something else is going on. It's the "reading of the card". Katniss and Prim, who have not been alive for a Quarter Quell, don't know what that means. It turns out Snow has been planning an All-Stars Season of the Hunger Games.

Thoughts:

-- Venia is clearly the leader of the Preps.

-- It's interesting how little importance Katniss and Peeta seem to be to Katniss and Peeta's wedding in the Capitol. They don't get a say in what they wear. The Capitol does. Cinna and Caesar Flickerman talk about it. I can't imagine letting the internet pick my wedding dress. (I am not married and don't plan to be and still I don't think this is a good idea.)

Quotes:

My mind starts buzzing. No seafood. For weeks. From District 4. The barely concealed rage in the crowd during the Victory Tour. And suddenly I am absolutely sure that District 4 has revolted.

I'm very interested in District 4. Mostly because I heart Mags. But also, I think it must be harder to keep them from communicating with other Districts, since they have boats. TBOSAS mentioned Pup Harrington's dad patrolling District 4. I assume that's to keep them in, like the fence in 12 does. But the existence of a patrol means people have gotten out.

Also I like swimming.

Prim, who came home from school in time to see the last two dresses, chatters on about them with my mother

Oh last chapter she asked Katniss to wait to try them on. I'm sad now that she only got to see two of the six.

He didn't get too excited over my District 13 story.

Did Haymitch already know about 13?

President Snow begins to speak, to remind us all of the Dark Days from which the Hunger Games were born. When the laws for the Games were laid out, they dictated that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell. It would call for a glorified version of the Games to make fresh the memory of those killed by the districts' rebellion.

[...]

On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the the tributes who would represent it.

I would like to know why this Quell system was implemented. We know Dean Highbottom didn't want the Games to continue at all. He definitely didn't write "centuries" of cards. The voting thing makes me think there was some political motivation, like how Plutarch Heavensbee wants a democracy instituted.

I wonder if Snow made himself look like a "genius" as a Gamemaker and then became President. And some people were like, "I didn't vote for this guy." So Snow was like, "fine, let the plebs vote."

"I had a friend who went that year," says my mother, quietly. "Maysilee Donner. Her parents owned the sweetshop. They gave me her songbird after. A canary.

Prim and I exchange a look. It's the first we've ever heard of Maysilee Donner. Maybe because my mother knew we would want to know how she died.

Lucy Gray is a songbird. Maysilee Donner has a songbird. Katniss is the mockingjay. How many female tributes from 12 are linked to birds?

[indelibleevidence]

Apparently I didn't do this the first time round (what was wrong with me?), so here are my 4x02 thoughts:

Really cool puzzles in this episode - both the magnetite map and the ATM have such great solutions. I wonder who came up with the creepy facial recognition gas-ATM.

I get why Patterson was so pissed at Boston to begin with this time around (the whole 'I coded a backdoor into Wizardville so I could snoop on people's phones' thing was a massive betrayal of trust, even if he then apologised and helped the team arrest his terrorist boyfriend), but why was Boston so mean to Kurt? 'You got one, Limpy!' I'd love to see you survive a gut shot, Boston (and let's be realistic, if they hadn't stopped the show at season 4.5, he probably would have gotten one, because gut shots are Blindspot's favourite injury - Mayfair, Jane, Roman, Patterson, Kurt, Keaton, Weitz...).

I've said it before and I'll say it again - as much as I love both Rich and Boston, the comedy gay couple/sassy gay friend trope makes me facepalm. I just don't get the sense in this episode that these men are attracted to each other, despite Rich's cooing. They have sibling chemistry, not ex-lovers who are still pining for each other, and they remind me of children squabbling over who gets the first cookie. 🙄 At least 4x08 goes a little way towards fixing that (until Rich ruins it by being a total asshole).

Remi's face when Sokolov describes the FBI as hamstrung by bureaucracy and ego is just awesome. She's like, 'Yep, this guy gets it.'

And again, the FBI's 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy comes back to bite them, because if Sokolov had lived, no 4x08... 🤷‍♀️ But also, I have no idea how they would have written it into the show, so...

The Remi and Roman scenes just made me so sad, because Remi is completely alone, talking to her brother who isn't there, trying to justify herself and her convictions (which we see at the start of 4x03, she isn't that sure of. 'Of course I can kill my husband...but not right now, that wouldn't be the right time.'

They really could have used the 'Zapata was on the plane, but not really' plot thread to make everyone cry, but they didn't bother. I wonder if they filmed a scene or two that were cut for length. I'll forever be sad that we never got any deleted scenes for seasons 4 or 5. 😭

Sometimes Blindspot is as subtle as a brick to the face with its cases and subplot parallels, but they did a great job with this episode. Sokolov being able to convince agents from multiple agencies to hand over documents, because there's no inter-agency cooperation, goes nicely with Keaton's complete lack of inter-agency cooperation re: Zapata (and why does it need to be kept so super secret that even a team working to take HCI Global down can't be read in, Keaton?). And Madeline's gleeful confession that she killed her husband pairs really well with Remi mixing up a little gift for Kurt at the end of the episode.

Audrey did so well with her 'I hate this undercover assignment' scene. Poor Tasha. Even though I don't see why Reade couldn't know, I do feel awful for her.

Madeline has such potential to be a great villain, but they just didn't bother to go anywhere meaningful with her. Helios was pretty masterful as a plan, but her underlying motives with her father are tissue-paper thin. :/ It makes all of the Helios arc feel kind of pointless, in retrospect. Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio does a great job, but after Shepherd and Roman, Madeline is just meh. Plus Remi just steals the show with her plotting and scheming.

Remi turning an argument around on Kurt again is so much fun to watch, and especially the way she course-corrects with the giant eyes and 'I just want to help people, just like you' stuff. Makes me think of the Jane-as-Goth!Remi episode, where she's just overly bitchy. 😁

Brb, squeeing over every moment of Remi now! Especially her knowing that he'll be first through the door to save her, even though she doesn't remember anything about being in the field with him from being Jane.

[asoulofatlantis]

I feel so sorry for that guy...

No. She was totally out of line. I do not know why her character is so inconsistent. She switches from Friend to Hater within minutes and why her get where she is coming from, half of the time it doesn't make any sense for her to leash out at her friends and comrades like this. Not after everything they have been through together.

I think I've totally overlooked the Wedge Part in the Spoilers ^^' I can not remember reading anything about it. I though our next destination was Lenegis or whatever its called.

Its nice that someone finally came to Shionne and talk to her regardless or her demanor. I guess in a sense the girl took a different route than Alphen, which likely made it easier for Shionne to deal with them... without getting cold and mean, that is.

I get why she was trying to do this alone... but it was really egoistic on her part. Alphen wants to save Dahna and this is his only way to do that. Leaving alone, even if she would try to save Dahna first before using the big master core thingy, if anything happens to her, she would have doomed Aphen, her friends and Dahna. And all that for what? Her own piece of mind?

So at least we know now why she survived the arrow and the sword.

Makes sense. Before... her life wasn't worth living. Allways all alone and scared of hurting anyone. But she isn't alone anymore. And she even found someone willing to touch her, even if it hurts. Of course it suddenly felt like her life was finally worth living. Just that those Thorns are not just threatening to kill her and her alone.

It was really about time. She was sitting there crying, being desperate and he just stood there and the whole time I thought: "Why don't you embrace her? She needs it!"

And all on her own for that matter - which is entirely her fault, as she was given ample opportunity to tell him or the others of it. I get why she didn't in the beginning. But at this point, she had no reason to keep that to herself.

I wonder if now, just a teeny, tiny bit, she regrets being so mean and cold and cruel to him the whole time.

That was exhausting. But I am glad we FINALLY got that out. It ruined so much of what could make the main-characters relationship more appealing.

Who is cutting onions here, right next to me? XD

Yeah... that ungrateful Bi- I mean... brat. Yes, totally what I wanted to say XD

Took you long enough to figure that out...

As Game-Sins I would like to ask... if there is usually no ship coming from Dahna outside of certain times, why didn't they... I don't know, try to shoot them down? Or something? Dohalim said even they as Lords weren't free to come and go as they pleas, so... why is no one on Lenegis wondering about this?

But... with all I know... aren't all people on Rena or however the planet is called be dead? So... is it the will of the planet that they actually are following? Or is someone pulling the reins pretending... like they did with the humans in Nier: Automata?

So she actually didn't see it? And instead of telling her, he nut just allowed her to hate him forever like he was a true heartless murderer... but he even just offered her to kill him, as soon as he is done with what he needs to do. What an idiot. I mean, friendship and guilt and all that, I get that... but offering someone to kill you even if you weren't truly at fault? Thats stupid.

After running around and talking a lot for what seems like AGES I think that is enough for now. I would have loved to finish this game today, but I won't make it. So... we see each other next weekend once more it seems.

[otakween]

0-Sen Hayato - Volume 4 (Final volume!)

Ch. 33

-This chapter was pretty dull and hard to follow. They kept repeating the same phrases over and over again. Old manga is so wordy.

-The only thing I really got out of this chapter was that they used aluminum foil to confuse/blind enemies in WWII. I had to fact check, but I guess this was a real tactic. Neat.

Ch. 34

-Really struggling to keep my eyes open reading this. This chapter was particularly tricky because a lot of it was American POWs speaking in katakana which takes me twice as long to read as normal Japanese.

-I believe what happened in this chapter is that the Americans tricked the Japanese into sending their best squadron away so that they could attack the weakest squadron that was left behind. Although I found the chapter itself boring, it did have a good cliffhanger where one of the guys from the weaker squadron is like "this is my first dogfight!"

Ch. 35

-The Shiuntai continue to fail at life while the Bakufutai go "nyah nyah, we're so much better than you!" They were awfully chill about 16 men dying in this chapter, but what else is new?

-Hayato and Ishiki fight over who gets to comfort an injured love interest-chan (forgot her name lol). Before she passes out she let's them know that the King Satan airplane was responsible for shooting up their base. Feels like things are ramping up for a final battle. Only 7 chapters to go!

Ch. 36

-Ishiki makes a failed attempt at fighting the final boss of this manga "King Satan." I don't really get it, this manga usually sticks to semi-realism (except for that one wacky chapter about sharks) but then they throw someone named "King Satan" at you. I think this is the first time we actually see his face? They made him handsome lol

-There's a character named "King Satan" in another 1960s manga called Tiger Mask, so I'm wondering if there's a connection there. Is this a shoutout? (Hayato came out first, so maybe not)

Ch. 37

-This was like the "tough guys cry about their feelings" chapter. First Ishiki gets all hysterical explaining his defeat to Hayato and then King Satan breaks down when he reveals that he was BFFs with Hayato's dad before the war. The drama! It was kinda funny how Hayato listened to his whole speech and was just like "I'mma still kill you tho..."

-I forget what country King Satan's supposed to be from. I was kind of assuming America, but I have no clue. (Edit: Considering his plane says USAF, safe to say he's from America)

-This chapter was very shounen-y. King Satan tells Hayato that he's not ready to fight him yet and to come back after he's trained more lol. At least King Satan's men reacted realistically (they were like "why didn't he shoot him down??")

Ch. 38

-Some interesting developments in this chapter. Ishiki and Hayato finally decide to stop bickering and team up after Hayato loses to King Satan. Also, Captain Miyamoto yells at Hayato and tells him that war is no place for personal feelings and revenge (he literally says "kill your feelings which felt very Naruto/ninja-esque)

-Ishiki and Hayato practice dogfighting "for real" but find they're evenly matched so Miyamoto agrees to spar with them. Seems kinda insane to me that you would actually shoot at one another's planes just to practice, but IDK enough about warplanes to call the manga's bluff lol.

Ch. 39

-Captain Miyamoto gives Ishiki and Hayato a big speech comparing samurai tactics to dogfights. I just barely followed it, but the boys boiled things down to "we need to find out King Satan's plane's weakpoint." So they decide to take a P.51 captive so that they can examine it closely and determine its weaknesses. Makes sense. Never really occurred to me that airplanes would have weakpoints...

-IDK why the boys were so shocked that they couldn't beat their captain in a dogfight. Pretty arrogant of them lol

Ch. 40

-After a big struggle, the boys manage to take an P.51 captive to start their experiment. One of the big bosses also shows up and declares a new, dangerous mission for the squad.

-I thought it was weird that Hayato and friends kept yelling threats to the American pilot. Number 1: how do they even hear each other? Number 2: I'm assuming their threatening the guy in Japanese because they would have indicated if otherwise. Surely this random American soldier doesn't understand them? Ah well...

Ch. 41

-The squad seek revenge when they find out another unit was wiped out. The chapter ends on a cliffhanger with Hayato and Ishiki's airplanes falling apart as they're surrounded by enemy planes.

-This is the second to last chapter for the whole series...I really thought they'd be fighting King Satan by now, but I guess that comes next!

Ch. 42

-Well, that was an abrupt and anti-climactic ending...I guess they wanted a triumphant ending and they couldn't go much further since Japan lost the war

-So it's revealed that Captain Miyamoto was shot down and killed by King Satan and the gang grieves for about 0.2 seconds. Hayato leads the charge to go after King Satan's base for revenge and in the fight (which happens in the rain) King Satan shoots down and kills Ishiki too! Bold of the mangaka to kill off major characters like that, but war is war. Hayato finally manages to shoot down King Satan who goes down laughing...the end.

Thank goodness I've finally reached the end of this series. It took me FOREVER to read due to the tricky Japanese and a lack of interest on my part. That being said, I'm glad I experienced a part of manga history. Storytelling in general was just super different in the 1960s in the east and the west. Tricky for us with modern sensibilities to sit through. Of course the art was very different too. I think the art was the best part of this series. Lots of care and attention to detail went into the panel layouts and action scenes. I hope someone translates this someday for WWII and old manga enthusiasts (it definitely won't be me lol).

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝❞ ─ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

i don't want your sympathy, i guess ive had it rough but you don't really care

❥ content ; gn reader, eventual fluff, angst, pining, happy ending

❥ warnings ; injury, swearing, mentions of death

❥ synopsis ; when you get badly injured during a mission, only then does levi realize the depths of his feelings for you. now the question is, is it too late?

❥ a/n ; i don't have a taglist yet so feel free to ask to get added!

You glided through the trees alongside your team, adrenaline running through your veins.

Kicking yourself off a tree, you landed your body with ease onto a lone Titan spotted in the forest below you. With a swift swing of the blade, the Titan was on the ground.

Finished, you zipped yourself back into the air, joining your team member's formation as you all flew together.

"Y/N!" Captain Levi shouted, resent dripping off of his words. Here we go again. "Do not deviate from original course! We are here to scout, not to thrill seek."

The team came to a slow. They stood on the branches, overlooking the land beneath them.

"I was not thrill seeking, sir, I was doing my job," you defended, turning to Captain Levi. Though he was shorter than you were, his cold stare and unwavering demeanor intimidated you.

"Your job is to follow my orders, brat, not go off wandering like an idiot!"

"I didn't wander, I was quick to regroup! You're just finding a reason to take your anger out on me," you retorted. "Then again, I wouldn't be surprised. Considering your height, it's no wonder you can barely contain your anger in such a small body."

As much as he wanted to push you off the tree, Levi kept his poise.

By now the team could hear you and Levi's bickering, but considering they were used to it, they decided to butt out and focus on planning the route.

"Stable duty when we get back."

And then he walked away, leaving you fuming.

As you continued with the scouting mission, you encountered too many Titans that you couldn't just brush them off. Angry and left with no choice, Levi shouted orders to forget the original plan and fight back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted two Titans approaching Jean and Armin with intent. You narrowed your eyes. This was your chance. You bolted off the tree, flying fast towards the two Titans. You got your gear out, ready to slice their napes, when one of the Titans looked your way, a sick smile on its face.

"Y/N!" Armin called out in a panic as the Titan extended its arm, swiping at you like a fly. Before its hand could collide with you, you were pushed out of the way by none other than Levi.

He wrapped his arms around you securely, one underneath your bottom and his other around your back. You heard him whisper a profanity, his hot breath fanning your neck as he spoke. Though it wasn't the time or the place, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

You were brought back to reality when Levi glided deeper into the forest, setting you down onto the ground harsher than necessary.

Totally caught off guard, your back was shoved against a tree. Levi was quick to block your exits, predicting you would try to resist.

His arms caged you between him and the tree, leaving little to no distance between your bodies. You could feel your face get hot, either out of embarrassment or his body heat mixing with yours.

"What the hell is wrong with you, brat?!" Yelled Levi, eyes wild with rage. However, something felt different about this compared to when he scolded you for separating from the group. But you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Me?" You scoffed. "You're the crazy psycho who stole me away and cornered me in this forest!" You pushed at his chest, successfully shoving him off of you. "I had everything under control."

"You were almost killed! I can't have reckless people on my team. I'm a captain, not a babysitter, so get your shit together or get the hell off my team."

You stood against the tree quietly, Levi's venomous words stunning you into silence. Levi continued to stare deep into your eyes, his expression never changing. However, as the seconds passed, you saw a sliver of regret in his eyes, lasting only for a mere second.

You took a deep breath, trying to choose your words carefully. "I- Just.. Why do you hate me so much?"

Levi raised a brow while you continued to speak.

"I know I'm not the best fighter. Not compared to Misaka or Eren. But what did I do to deserve so much hatred from you? Even when I'm not doing anything wrong, you look at me like I'm the most disgusting person you've seen."

Despite feeling a sting of guilt at your words, Levi put on a dismissive act. "Tch, you're being dramatic. I'm not about to discuss this with you."

Why the fuck did he say that?

"Maybe if you listened to me for two damn seconds you wouldn't get such an earful."

Why is he being such an asshole? Gods, just tell them already. Stop this bullshit.

No longer finding it in you to care, you began to raise your voice, angry tears spilling down your face. "I try my best to make you like me. I try to show you that I'm capable and strong, but you still treat me as if I'm inferior. Like my skills are nothing. Like I'm nothing."

Emotionless, Levi replied, "Because you are. Look at you. You're a crybaby. You should've stayed back." Lies. All lies.

"Ugh- well maybe you should've just let me get killed since you despise me so much!"

With that, you grab your gear and zip away as far from Levi as possible, tears blowing out of your face and into the wind.

"Hey, where are you going?!"

You ignored him as you continued to speed through the trees, searching for your team. Your friends. Anybody.

"Y/N! Look out!"

You heard Eren shout, making you spin around frantically to search for the danger.

There it was.

An Abnormal ran your way, crawling like a dog on its hands and feet.

It had been chasing the team for a while now, evident in its animalistic, hungry look.

Steadily hanging off a branch, you watch the Titan from afar, then look back at the team.

"I'll distract it! You guys go!"

They looked at you as if you had grown two extra heads.

"You'll die!" Mikasa argued. "We can take it!"

"Just go!"

The Titan started to get closer. The team looked behind you, then back at you. Though they looked ready and determined to take it down, you knew they felt as terrified as you were. Fighting Titans was just something you don't think you'll ever get used to.

"Please be careful. We're gonna find Captain Levi!"

You nodded, then turned around, watching as the Titan ran towards you, totally disregarding the rest of the team.

"You want me? Come get me."

When you decided it was close enough, you darted into the forest and soared through the trees, only narrowly missing them. The Abnormal followed you, but hit itself on the trees and destroyed many in the process.

While the Abnormal continued to run through the forest, leaves and trees blocking its direct vision of you, you took a chance and turned back, flying past the Abnormal.

You did a quick u-turn and hopped onto its back.

You got it now.

As it chased after nothing, completely unaware, you slashed the nape of its neck.

With you still on its back, the Titan went limp mid-jump, falling onto the ground hard enough to create an earthquake. Unprepared for the collision, you went flying off its body.

Instead of bracing yourself for the fall, you frantically reached for your gear in an attempt to glide back up to the trees.

Before you got the chance, your body met with the ground, a loud thud echoing from the impact.

In the distance, the rest of the team continued to fight until they got to the very last Titan. Levi, though he was the last to regroup, helped effectively take down the Titans.

It wasn't evident in his stoic expression, but he searched among his surroundings and the faces of his team for you, afraid the worst had happened. Dammit, why did he have to be such an asshole? What Levi said to you, he meant none of it. But he feared he wouldn't get the chance to tell you that. Idiot.

"Is everybody here?!" Levi shouted as his team gathered around him.

"Yeah, we're alive-"

"Wait, where's Y/N?"

The team began to search among themselves, now becoming anxious as well.

"Well, where are they? Did you not see them at all?" Levi asked in a calm tone, despite his heart beat pounding in his ears. No. He wasn't going to slip up. Not here, not now. He needed to remain strong.

Mikasa spoke up. "We last saw them when we were being chased by an Abnormal! They offered to distract it and take care of it themselves."

Levi shouted, a crack in his voice, "And you let them?!"

"Y/N is strong! One of the best fighters we have here," Eld said. "They've probably already taken it down by now."

"Then where are they?!" Levi growled, becoming more frustrated by the second.

"Hey, look!" Armin yelled, shaking his finger towards the steam in the distance. "Eld was right! Y/N did kill it after all!"

Wasting no more time, Levi commanded the team to follow him. Soon again, they were up in the trees, running your direction. They stopped as soon as they came across a clearing in the forest where the Abnormal laid lifelessly.

"Everyone! Find Y/N!"

The team split, searching the area for any sign of you.

Levi dreaded the thought of finding you like they found the Titan. No. You killed it. You had to be alive.

Levi repeated that in his head. You had to be alive.

Because if you weren't, he wouldn't know what he would do.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of panicked screams echoing around you. You pushed yourself off of the ground in a rush, only to stumble back with an agonizing scream, pain shooting up the lower half of your body.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," you fell back on the grass defeatedly, hot tears welling in your eyes at the intense pain and aches across your whole body. "Dammit!"

You didn't know which bones were broken, where you were, if you were bleeding out. So you just laid there alone, helpless and numb. Waiting.

Just when the team was beginning to lose hope, a blood curdling scream echoed throughout the forest, easily catching the team's attention. They headed towards the source of the sound, but Levi was the first on it, already sprinting through the forest to find you.

When he did, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach. You laid in a small clearing behind some old trees and bushes, a puddle of blood beneath your body. Your uniform was torn and your 3DMG was rendered useless at this point. If not for the scream, or the fast rise and fall of your chest, he would've mistaken you for being dead.

Levi rushed to your side and got onto his knees, lifting up your body into his arms.

"Y/N? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You coughed, wheezing and struggling to make a coherent sound. Blood dripped down the corner of your mouth as you spoke, "You were right, Captain. I never stood a chance, did I?Shoulda just stayed." You laughed pitifully.

Now Levi was angry, but not at you. "Shut up! Don't say stupid shit like that! You're going to be okay."

The team found you, stopping short at the sight of Levi holding you carefully, like a porcelain doll, ready to break.

He didn't care anymore. He didn't bother to put up a front. Not when you were like this, half dead in his arms. He pressed his forehead to yours, whispering in your ear so only you could hear.

"I can't lose you too.."

Everyone else only continued to watch the intimate scene unfold before them.

When you fell unconcious, Levi squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to keep his composure. Why was he acting like this? Usually he would be quick to solve problems without letting his feelings get in the way. Why was he so helpless now?

He turned around, scowling at the group who just stood by idly.

"Get over here and help them, you fools!"

You hated it. You hated having to be looked after or saved like a princess in a children's storybook. You didn't want to run away anymore, or simply stand in waiting, hoping for someone to rescue you. You were done being hunted. So you joined the Scouts after years of hard work and training. If you had only thought more carefully or put your parent's advice in consideration, you wouldn't be in your current situation, regretting ever joining Levi's team. You wouldn't have ended up in the infirmary.

You passed out in Levi's arms after suffering from injuries during your fight with the Abnormal Titan, according to your friends. They came by to visit you when the medic alerted them that you had woken up from your coma.

"How long was I out for?" You winced as you massaged your still pounding head. "When did I even get here?"

"You've been unconcious for two days. We retreated to the city as Captain Levi instructed and you've been under their care since," Eren answered. He noticed your demeanor as you looked around the room and picked at your skin, a nervous habit you recently formed. "Everybody's alive, so don't you worry."

"Where are they?"

"Well, they did have to receive medical attention since they got hurt, but they're okay! They miss you, ya know?" Armin said excitedly. "We'll make sure to fill you in on everything when you're out of here."

You pursed your lips. "Speaking of which, when will I be discharged?"

"You can't exactly walk right now, but.. you should be up and ready to go within a week! Then we can go on another mission and-"

"Eren. Armin. Mikasa." Your attention was torn away from Eren, your eyes darting towards the source of the voice.

"Captain Levi!" They all exclaimed in unison.

"I would like to speak with Y/N in private." He glanced at trio, his eyes narrowing. "Out."

The three walked out, heads bowed like sad little puppies. You waved at them as they went before turning to Levi who now stood by your bed.

"What do you want?" You asked bitterly, nose scrunching up in a sneer.

"Commander Erwin informed me of your decision," he spoke softly, differing from his usual cold tone.

You huffed. "Yeah, took your advice and resigned. You won't have to worry about babysitting me anymore."

A pang of guilt shot through Levi's heart, causing him to flinch. He hoped you didn't catch that.

He remembered his own regretful words as it replayed in his head. Just like your cries and pained expression, which he was unable to simply brush off, he couldn't forget how he mistreated you. And he would never forgive himself, either. The sight of your injured body laying there, all alone. He couldn't shake the scene off his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Even in his dreams.

Evident in his eyebags that seemed to have darkened in shade, he wasn't able to get much sleep the past couple days because of it.

"I take it you hate me, then," Levi suggested, prompting you to laugh mockingly.

"Oh, no, I could never," you said, sarcasm dripping off your voice as you fake fawned over Levi. "Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest.. I just adore you."

Levi hid his offended expression and ignored your antics as he continued. "I was afraid I couldn't get the chance to apologize to you. When I found you there, I.." He squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brows together, forcing his tears not to fall. Why now?

"Yeah, well, you fucked up. About time you feel a little heartache," you mumbled, looking around the room, anywhere but Levi.

"A little?! Look, I'm trying to apologize here!" He shouted. "Do you have no idea how fucking terrified I've been for you, you brat?!"

"No, Captain Levi, so why don't you enlighten me on how much you care?!" You huffed, crossing your arms. "Because if you did, then maybe I wouldn't be bed ridden!"

Levi's face softened at the sight of a single tear escaping your eye. He took a seat on the bed beside you and reached out to brush away your tear.

With your quick reflexes, you caught his hand and pushed it back towards him.

"Don't you dare touch me. You've done enough damage, Levi. Just go and stop wasting my time."

Just like you, he was stubborn. He stood his ground.

"I-I'm sorry."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "You must think I'm stupid. No way I'm buying that bullshit."

"You need to stop pushing me away, Y/N!"

"What is that, an order?" You taunted. "You don't get to be sorry, Levi. It's too late for that. You waited for me to almost die just to tell me that? Is that what it takes? What if I hadn't survived? What then?"

"You don't think I haven't thought about that?! That's why I'm here!"

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?"

"You should've listened to me! I was trying to protect you!"

"Well thanks a lot. Now both my kneecaps are broken and I won't be able to walk for weeks!" You shake your head. "You think just because we shared a moment while I was dying that I'm okay now? Trust me, if I had the strength, I would have slapped you then and there."

"Then why don't you now?"

"At this point, you're not even worth getting angry over. So stop giving me that pitiful look. I really prefer you shouting at me instead. At least I'm used to it." You mumble the last part, but Levi catches it easily.

"That's it then, you leave me no choice." You look at Levi curiously. "You infuriate me, brat, you really do. You're so careless and oblivious all the time, you forget to look after yourself. And I'm not ready to watch you throw away your life so irrationally from the sidelines."

"So what are you trying to tell me, Levi?"

"Tch, you're just gonna make me say it, aren't you?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm not good at this, and I hate to admit it, to you of all people. It makes me mad to see you risk your life because I care about you.. and I can't lose you. I've dealt with too much death. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive, even if it means dying.." Levi trails off, then scoffs and crosses his arms like a petty little child. "I said it, all right? I like you-- A lot, you stupid brat!"

You searched Levi's eyes for any trace of dishonesty. You hoped he was lying, like he had some sort of script prepared before he came to see you. But you found no lies in his eyes.

You felt your heart break. All this time when you thought Levi just really hated you, he was looking out for you.

"I.. Why didn't you just tell me?" Your voice fell apart as you spoke. "I tried so hard to make you like me back.. And it hurt because I thought you just hated my guts. I had no idea."

"I know, I was being stupid too- It shouldn't have come to this," Levi admitted. "I.. I'll let you rest now."

Levi stood up to leave, but you were quick to pull him back onto the bed with you. Without letting him react, you grabbed his face and interlocked your lips with his. All the tension in his body disappeared and he melted into the kiss, throwing his arms around you tightly like he'd lose you if he ever let go. It wasn't a soft, romantic, movie perfect kiss. It was desperate, tongue and teeth, hands wandering, disheveling the other's hair. You released all of your built up anger and resent, letting it fuel you while you aggresively fought your tongue with his, a faint taste a hint of alcohol now on your own mouth. Occasionally you'd both break the kiss for short intakes of breath and small whispers like 'don't scare me like that again' and 'I've needed this for a while now'. You couldn't help but moan, earning a grin from Levi as he continued to hungrily devour your lips. Just as things escalated, you remembered you were still in the infirmary, and anyone could walk in any minute now. You slowly pulled away, your chest heaving as you panted for breath.

Levi couldn't help but twist his lips up into a little smirk. That was new.

"Well at least you're not a bad first kisser," he spoke nonchalantly, still gasping for air. You playfully punched him in the chest.

"Quite the romantic, aren't you?" You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. "You're not bad either, old man."

Blush spread across his cheeks.

He took your hand in his, bringing it to his swollen and raw lips and placed a small kiss on your knuckles.

"Promise me you won't leave me again?"

"Promise," you sighed blissfully. "And I guess I'll have to tell Commander Erwin about my change of plans."

"Actually," a deep voice spoke. At the door, there stood none other than Commander Erwin. "I think I already know."

[infinitebells]

hate me. (h. iwaizumi)

genre: smut, fluff if you squint

description: you and iwaizumi used to be lovers, that is until you realized he was apart of the rival gang of your brother, daichi. what happens when you reunite during a job to take out his gang’s leader?

word count: 3656

warnings: mafia au, dom!iwa, fingering, light bondage (handcuffs), choking, degradation, mention of jealousy, hate fucking, orgasm denial, dumbification, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy is mentioned like one time, dacryphilia one time

a/n: this is my first piece for tumblr!! i really hope you guys like it, obviously give feedback, i’ll appreciate everything!! i also can’t remember how or why this idea came to me but it sat halfway done in my drafts for like a month or two before i finished it all tonight.

✧   ✧   ✧

“daichi where the HELL is the target?!" you growled through the earpiece, frustration flooding through your veins as you tried to spot the man through the scope of your sniper rifle. your fingers clenched the handle of your gun as your finger hovered steadily over the trigger.

your brother sawamura daichi, otherwise known as “king pin" throughout the japanese underworld, had assigned you to take out a member of a rival gang that had been screwing with your brother's cargo operations. he was confident in your sniping abilities, simply because he was the one who taught you everything he knew.

“i don't fucking know, suga said oikawa would be at the event tonight. he confirmed it with tendou too," his voice strained as his anger started to seep through the small wire resting daintily behind your ear. you huffed hearing the maniacal red head's name. his own gang wasn't necessarily an ally of karasuno however, shiratorizawa also wanted oikawa's organization taken down too.

“you know how goddamn crazy he is, how do we know he's a reliable source dumbass?" you gritted out, staring down every patron through the glass of your scope.

“he was. luckily, we have better sources love," a voice rasped right next to the same ear that held your ear piece. you could feel every cell in your body freeze from the foreign voice right next to your now ice cold ear, the intruder's lips faintly ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Y/N WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!" you could hear daichi's voice through your comms, but had no way to respond as your new companion gently plucked it out of your ear.

“hello again daichi-san. I'll make sure to take care of your sister while we have her," the new voice spoke lowly, the slight rasp ticking you off as you finally recognized it.

“hello iwa-chan. so nice to see you again," you finally said as you looked slightly to the side to see your only communication to your brother and the rest of the team crack and shatter underneath his foot. the last thing you heard was your brother's and suga's frantic voices screaming through their mics. you hadn't moved a muscle yet, but feeling the man behind you stand up from his crouching position gave you the opening you needed. you whirled around, swinging your gun as swiftly as you could towards his face, hoping to get a shot off on him. unfortunately, he predicted your movements. as you release the trigger, he dodged to the left as his left hand darted out, grabbing the end of your rifle as his other hand flew out and gripped your throat, pushing you up against the edge of your roof. you forced yourself to remain calm, realizing you were on the verge of plummeting to your death, knowing the only thing between you living and dying was the well built, smirking man standing before you, his body uncomfortably close to your own.

“i wouldn't do that if i were you sweetheart, unless you want to die without seeing your brother again," he said, gently pulling the gun from your right hand. his smirk grew wider as your glare hardened, only encouraging him to grab your right hand and pulling you closer, twisting it behind your back, his grip on your neck still firm as ever.

you hadn't seen the man before you since your first days in the gang with daichi. at the time, you didn't know anything about his rivals or allies. which was why you found yourself dancing in a club, with iwaizumi grinding on your backside. you two had shared a few steamy nights together, basking in each others unbridled lust and love for one another. until one night, you were spending another night with him at a different club with a few of his gang members watching you closely, when your brother, accompanied by suga and asahi, stormed through the door, guns loaded. you had turned frantically towards iwaizumi, taking one look at his facial expression before understanding what had happened. since then, you had avoided him at all costs, putting your whole being into fueling the rivalry between your brother's gang and iwaizumi’s gang.

“bravo iwa-chan! you did it!" you rolled your eyes seeing oikawa, clad in his usual midnight black suit with light blue accents, clapping slowly as he emerged from the door leading to the roof you had been stationed on. you hadn’t seen the brown-haired gang leader since the shoot out between him and your brother, and you certainly were only planning on seeing him tonight, preferably dead. iwaizumi turned to glance at oikawa before spinning around and moving you so your back was pressed tightly against his chest. your gun clattered to the ground as he grabbed both of your wrists in one had, using the other to secure them tightly behind your back, the clanking of handcuffs jolting you out of your own head.

“it's best if you don't struggle y/n,” iwaizumi's low voice spoke against the shell of your ear.

“if you struggle y/n-chan, i’ll have mattsun put a bullet through daichi-san's head!" oikawa spoke in his usually cheery voice, his head tilting to the side as he smiled widely at you. it was moments like those that truly showcased his almost psychopathic nature as a gang leader.

"NO YOU CAN'T!" your voice cracked, wrists straining against iwaizumi's tight hold. he held you tighter, yanking you back, making sure to secure the handcuffs even tighter.

“then don't struggle!" iwaizumi growled in your ear, tugging on the cuffs so they dug painfully into your wrists.

“fuck you," you responded, smirking at oikawa as you attempted to piece together how to best get out of the situation.

“i’ve already had the pleasure of doing it once before, but i’ll be happy to do it again," iwaizumi responded, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“now now y/n-chan, we have to bring you downstairs to the car that's so eagerly waiting for us, so you can either behave until we get there, or your brother and everyone else in your pathetic excuse for a gang will be picked off one by one. understood?" oikawa explained, a dangerous gleam in his chocolate brown eyes. as stubborn as you were, you couldn't risk putting your brother and everyone else at risk, especially the younger, more bright-eyed members like hinata and yamaguchi. so, you stayed silent, only staring down seijoh’s leader who had moved in front of you, bending down to peer into your eyes.

“i’ll take your silence as your choice to behave. wonderful! iwa-chan, put your jacket over her shoulders so no one can see her cuffs," oikawa ordered, and iwaizumi nodded before moving in front of you. he shrugged the black jacket off of his shoulders before tugging it onto your own, your arms still behind you as the sleeves of his oversized jacket dangled loosely in the breeze. you took a moment to look him over, taking note of the black jeans that adorned his legs, the light blue bandana attached to a belt loop on his left hip, and the tight black t-shirt that accentuated every single one of his deftly toned muscles.

“stop staring sweetheart, you're being too obvious," his voice jerked your eyes back to his own. without a second of hesitation, you brought your knee up, slamming it into his lower region, before walking around his now crumpled form, following oikawa. he groaned from behind you, forcing himself to get up as his friend and leader watched the scene with slight amusement present on his pretty face.

“oikawa, leave and give me a minute alone with her. i think she ought to learn some damn manners before we take her down," iwaizumi spoke lowly, his usual level voice now shook slightly with anger. your eyes widened as oikawa smirked towards his friend before turning around and opening the door.

“do as you want. i’ll give you a half hour, just don't kill her please!" he responded, waving his hand to his friend before letting the door slam shut behind him. your heart dropped to the depths of your stomach as you willed yourself to turn and face iwaizumi hajime, who's gaze was trained on your small frame. as soon as he made a move towards you, you turned towards the door, sprinting to the best of your abilities in hopes that you could make it inside without having to face iwaizumi's obvious rage.

just as you made it to the door, his hand shot out and grabbed you by the back of the neck, flipping you around, and pressing you against the door, thumbs squeezing dangerously tight around your esophagus. his eyes were lit with pure fury as his grip around your throat tightened. despite the very dangerous situation you were in, your body still reacted to his close proximity and touch. you were ashamed to feel that familiar warmth you used to feel with him pool in your lower abdomen, but you forced yourself to match iwaizumi's hardened gaze as his eyes bore into your own.

“that was a dangerous move love. you're just asking to get punished aren't you?" he whispered, his head parallel to yours as his teeth grazed over the shell of your ear. You internally reprimanded yourself as a shiver flowed from the top of your spine, all the way down to your feet. You knew this man, this lover you once had, had noticed your movement, and he pulled back to smirk wildly at you.

“i’m sure if i stuck my hand down your pants right now, i’d pull my fingers out and they'd be soaking wet wouldn't they?" he questioned, and you could do nothing to stop the light blush flowering against your cheeks.

“shall i test that theory out love?" his voice was just barely above a whisper now. no matter how much you wanted to say no, to scream at him to get off, to kick him in the nuts once again, you didn't have the self control to do so when you felt his unoccupied hand ghost over your clothed crotch. instead, you stared him straight in the eyes, almost daring him to do what he so desperately wanted to do. he grinned, pushing his fingers past the waist band of your leggings to rest delicately over your underwear, his pointer finger hovering over your clit.

it took every fiber of your being to not moan out loud right there as slick started pooling in your underwear, waiting to be released. he gently rubbed his pointer finger along your slit through your underwear, stopping for a moment before pressing lightly onto your small bundle of nerves (which you swore would be the death of you). you couldn't help the slightly sharp intake of breath as you felt him give more attention to your clit, pressing lightly and rubbing impossibly small circles onto it outside of your underwear.

what frustrated you most was that he knew every nook and cranny of your body. every beauty mark he had kissed five times over, every dip and valley of your breasts down to your navel, and every spot covered by your underwear that turned you into putty in his hands. you hated how he knew exactly what to do to rile you up. the fucker knew that one swipe of his finger-

“fuck," you whimpered out, losing grasp of the control you thought you had. you were so lost in your own head you hadn't realized he had sneakily moved your underwear to the side and rubbed a semi circle along your clit. that one single move had always been your downfall. it had pushed you over the edge so many times for him, he had practically memorized the exact motion that had you moaning for him.

“attention on me love. we only have about 25 minutes left right? wouldn't want to waste it in your own head," he said before taking you by surprise and pushing two of his long, thick fingers into your soaked cunt. you couldn't help the cry of pleasure that spilled out of your mouth like honey, your body immediately reacting to his familiar touch. except this time around, it was different. he pressed more into that one spot inside of you that forced stars into your vision with more precision, pushing into it so that your legs went weak. his fingers flew in and out of your cunt, juices building up and dripping into your underwear as he continued to smirk down at your weakening state.

“i’ve changed you know. fine tuned my ways. i met a few girls since the last time you and i saw each other," he confidently stated, his words lighting you up with pure jealously.

“iwaizumi shut the fuck u-" but you didn't get the chance to finish your sentence as his grip tightened on your throat, stopping your voice. simultaneously, he shoved a third finger into you and abused that spongy section inside of you. another, louder moan of unbridled ecstasy was forced out of your throat, and you hated how much he was turning you on. his fingers thrusted rapidly in and out, in and out, until you felt like you were going to go numb from pleasure.

“such harsh words princess, i thought we were starting to get along again," he teased, his fingers pushing harder into your g-spot simply to illicit a choked moan from you.

“i hate you," you breathed out, and he shook his head. he quickened the pace of his fingers, and the squelching sound of your pussy only spurred on more of your guilty moans.

“f-fuck," you whimpered, trying to catch your breath from the overwhelming pleasure iwaizumi gave you. he knew from the slightly dazed look and the whimpers escaping your throat that you were close. as soon as he connected the dots, he yanked his glistening fingers out of your spasming cunt, ripping away your glorious orgasm. a cry of defeat left your lips, and a second later, you were whirled around so your face was pressed against the door and your leggings were yanked down to your ankles, along with your black panties.

“only good girls get to cum. i don't think you've been a good girl. i think you've been a cock hungry slut hm? such disrespect for your daddy," he clicked his tongue in annoyance, and you finally found your voice once again.

“iwaizumi i swear to god-" his hand wrapped tighter around your throat as you felt his clothed hips push forwards to grind on your own.

“princess, if you keep back talking, you won't get to cum OR see your brother again. the choice is yours," he said, and your pussy clenched at his dominating tone. your natural instincts were forcing your head to swim with pure lust and desire, forgetting completely about the original situation you were put in. the clink of Iwaizumi's belt elicited another whimper from your throat. low chuckles invaded your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. your weak moaning only spurred iwaizumi on. his shiny fingers, coated in your essence pushed past your lips, pressing down on your tongue.

“taste yourself love, see how slutty you are? how badly you want to get fucked into oblivion? i wonder what your teammates, what your brother would say if they knew you were letting me treat you like the whore you are," he growled out. juices gathered below you as your hole clenched around nothing. you moaned around his fingers as you feel the head of his cock push against your ass cheeks. your tongue swirled around them, cleaning them of every drop of your essence, the essence he had skillfully drawn out of you. after cleansing his fingers of your juices, iwaizumi pulled his fingers out of your mouth, allowing your drool to drip down your chin.

“beg for me like the cock hungry slut you are," his voice was the only thing you could focus on, your primal instincts taking over before you could stop them.

“please iwa, i-i need you inside of m-me, please f-fuck m- AHHH!" all the breathe left your lungs as iwaizumi shoved his entire length into you, his tip brushing against your cervix. short shallow breaths escaped you, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from the sheer force of his thick cock invading you.

“ahh, there we go princess. that feel good huh?" his arrogance sparked something inside of you.

“f-fuck y-you," the breathiness of your voice betrayed the bite behind your words. his low chuckles were the only warning you were given before he pulled out and slammed all of himself back into you, setting a brutally fast and hard pace. screams erupted from your throat, your nerve endings firing erratically at the sheer pleasure he was fucking into you. iwaizumi angled your hips to push into that one spot that had your vision go white. whatever fight you had left in you dissipated almost instantly, your bones going limp in his hold as broken moans and occasional screams were torn from your throat. noticing your body grow limp, one of his hands snaked around to grasp your throat again, while the other held you up by your waist.

“oh is that your spot love? i can feel you creaming all over me," he rasped out. his words made you unconsciously clench around him, eliciting a groan from the man behind you.

"'m close iwa, f-feels s'good," you slurred out, your grasp on reality waning from the snap of his hips against yours.

“is my little cock slut getting fucked stupid hm? can't think about anything but my cock split-fuck, splitting you open huh?" you wanted to growl back at him, argue, be a brat, do something, but the way his tip brushed against your g-spot, and the way he was pounding into you the exact way you desperately needed rendered you utterly helpless in his arms.

“fuck i missed this princess," his voice so low you barely caught it. his words injected a warm feeling in your bones, his hold on your throat loosening at his confession.

“haji, please," you finally whimpered, your eyes fluttering close as your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder. his lips attached themselves to your neck, pressing light kisses right above your sweet spot. his thrusts kept hitting all the right spots, and that familiar warmth built up in your lower abdomen again. you could feel the buildup spreading throughout your limbs and tingling into your toes and fingers.

“cum for me love," his words were softer this time, more affection slipping through his usual harsh tone. it was all you needed to allow yourself to let out one final moan, bursting at his slight command. you gushed around him, dripping down his balls and onto the ground beneath you both. white spots clouded your vision as your hearing dulled for a moment. your cunt clenching and fluttering around his painfully hard cock was all it took for him to release into you. his warm load painted your walls white, some leaking out as he thrust up into you a few more times to help fuck you through your earth shattering orgasm.

after a couple more thrusts, he stilled inside of you, completely removing the hand around your throat to rest on the wall in front of you for support. his other arm tightened around your waist, keeping you close to him to help you stand since your legs hadn't stopped shaking for the past five minutes. shaky breaths exited both of you as you both attempted to catch your breath.

iwaizumi wordlessly turned you around so your back was to the wall, giving you a view of his disheveled state. his cheeks were tainted pink, sweat beading at his hairline as his chest continue to heave slightly from the exertion. His right arm was still extended against the wall for support as his other arm moved to tuck himself back into his pants. he removed his arm from the wall and fumbled with his belt before finally redoing it. you admired him as you leaned into the wall, still attempting to ground yourself after the mind blowing sex the two of you had. iwaizumi untied a light blue bandana from one of his belt loops, moving closer to you. he gently wiped the mess of your and his cum that was dripping from your (still quivering) cunt. sharp intakes of breath signaled for him to go slower, so as not to overstimulate you. he softly cleaned the rest of your lower half before dropping the bandana onto the ground and kneeling to pull your underwear and pants back up.

“what happens now?" you were surprised your voice didn't crack, but you were proud that it hadn't nonetheless. iwaizumi finally met your eyes, a slight sigh escaping him.

“i take you down to the car and hope oikawa doesn't tease us," he explains. a breathless laugh leaves your lips, iwaizumi matching you with a chuckle of his own.

“i still hate you," you say after a beat, looking down at your feet to try and hide the blush still decorating your cheeks. iwaizumi's finger hooks itself under your chin, carefully moving your face up so your eyes can meet his.

“i know. i hate you too," he finished with a kiss, the soft pressure against your own lips melting you from the inside out. you push back against him, unable to help yourself. he finally pulls away, blushing lightly, as he pulls his jacket tighter around your shoulders before pulling the door open and leading you through it.

•••

[wastelandcth]

In the Mountains - cth

summary: who would've thought hiking with the boys would have ended up being so eventful? as the fifth member of 5sos with a crush on a certain bass player, you’re about to find out. 

author’s notes: thanks to @calumspupils for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist || request

You didn't really know how you'd gotten to this point in your life. How you had ended up in a band with four people you'd give the world to, it all still seemed like a fever dream. Most mornings you'd wake up either on a tour bus or in a hotel room miles from home wondering if this was your real-life and it wasn't until you were sat at breakfast with your bandmates that you realized how grateful you were for the twists and turns that had led to your crazy life.

Some days you'd play shows and feel like you were on top of the world, rocking out on stage with your best friends. Some nights the views from the airplanes you'd grown used to being on took your breath away for so long you were afraid you'd actually imagined it all. That all the cameras flashing and fans screaming out lyrics you'd written with the four guys on stage next to you were a figment of your imagination and you'd wake up one day to find it all gone.

"Hey, I know you don't love hiking but...I'm sure we'll make it fun," Calum's voice rang out in the car, bringing you back to the moment at present, "And I'll be there to tell you all the jokes and point out cool rocks," he said with a wink.

Calum Hood. You'd turned your head to face him, the California sun was hitting his skin and making him glow. His bright smile adorning his face as the sunglasses he was wearing slid down his nose to reveal those brown eyes you'd fallen for. His soft voice and gentle teasing bringing warmth to your stomach that always seem to linger whenever you two were alone. It was something that you thought you'd kept to yourself, a little secret, but the comments online only left you a blushing mess.

If you were being honest, you'd been in love with Calum since the first months you'd spent with the band, getting to know each other and making sure you'd be a good fit into the group. those weeks had been filled with outings together where all five of you would spend hours on end telling stories about growing up and then laughing over how the internet blew up when they introduced you to their fanbase. But those few weeks were also spent trying your best to not make a fool of yourself in front of Calum, who seemed to always be at the right place whenever you stumbled or when your voice would crack while you were practicing alone.

You two had clicked instantly, both stuck to each other's hip as you took on the world. You'd write together, spending hours on a couch drafting out possible songs and humming along to tracks that had potential in matching the band's sound. You'd even become neighbors at one point when you'd first moved into the city to be closer for band work. He'd helped you move into the apartment next to his and you'd spent many weekends at each other's place, laughing over the awkward silences when you'd both caught each other glancing for a few seconds too long.

So you were in love with your bandmate, your best friend, with Calum Hood. How bad could it be?

Apparently, very bad. You and Calum had never been the subtle type and although you both pretty much knew there was more than friendship between you two, no one made a move to make it more. Ashton had asked you once when you two had gone out for lunch after a studio session.

"I just can't understand why you two haven't already gotten over it and got together. You'd thought about it, he's thought about it. Just do it," Ashton huffed, shaking his head as he watched you tense up and shake your head.

"The band is what's important, Ash. We can't let our feelings get in the way of fucking up what all five of us have created. He knows that and I do too," you'd replied, laughing quietly as Ashton only shook his head and mumbled something under his breath.

But Ashton was always one to try and make others happy in his own special way. And that's how you found yourself in the car with Calum on the way out of the city for a hike you were less than excited about. You knew Ashton was up to something when he'd texted the group saying that you and Calum would have to drive to the trail together since you wouldn't fit in his car with Luke, Mike, and their partners. As a form of payback, you'd purposefully told Calum to pick you up thirty minutes after the original time to make sure you were the last ones to get there because there was nothing more than Ashton hated than being late. And that's how you found yourself driving out of the city with Calum, lost in your own head over how beautiful he looked.

"Mhm, you always make things fun," you chuckled and winked back at him, "We're gonna need it especially now that we're late and Ashton will definitely kill us."

The hike had gone surprisingly good considering three of you were not the most athletics and Luke and Michael had constantly been racing seeing who could go the farthest faster. Ashton had tried his best to keep everyone on track until you and Calum had teased him about being the mom friend as he'd set up his phone on a rock to shoot an update video for fans to let them know about the band had been up to. It had all been going according to plan until you moved closer to Calum and twisted your ankle, ending up on the floor staring up at the blue sky.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die. Just leave me here to die because I'm not making it," you cried out, "This is the end of me!"

In a matter of seconds since your back had hit the ground, four familiar faces hovered above you, one of them looking more concerned than the others. The pain shot through your spine and down your leg, your eyes closing as you tried to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Soon enough you found yourself being lifted up from the ground and a warm body pressed against your back. You could hear all the guys fighting over what to do, which meant your ankle wasn't twisted backward since none of them had screamed or puked their guts out. Their voices all mumbled into one as you breathed through the pain and it wasn't until Calum's warm breath was hitting your ear that you felt yourself take a deep breath in and open your eyes.

"I'm gonna stay here with you until Ash and the others can get a ranger to bring a car or something like that, okay?" he mumbled softly, his hand rubbing at your back as he helped you sit back against a rock.

"Please don't let my leg fall off, I need it to run on stage and to kick Michael when he steals my food," you whined.

"That's not gonna happen, okay? I think you just twisted it and it's all going to be okay, sweet girl," Calum mumbled and kissed your forehead, "Promise."

The sun was still high in the sky by the time you started thinking Ashton had left you both in the desert. You'd both been sitting on the ground together, watching as  your ankle grew and grew in size as the time passed by. The pain had dulled and your head was resting on his shoulder when your brain had started to think of the worst.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you were Australian. Us Aussies are known for our athleticism," Calum chuckled as he nudged your side with his elbow, "It's a well-known fact."

"I can do a better Australian accent than all four of you," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you smacked his thigh, "And I can outrun pretty much all of you except Ash."

"Except right now."

"Calum Hood, I swear if you don't stop making fun of me-"

"What? Are you gonna hit me again? I dare you-"

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the heat of the sun beaming down on you both. Or maybe the fact that you were thirsty since Michael had taken the only backpack with water with him before you two realized it but Calum's lips looked very nice and it took no self-restraint for you to lean in and stop him mid-sentence.

"Maybe you should twist your ankle more often, huh?" Calum chuckled as you both pulled away, "Or bully you more often."

"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot," you laughed and pulled him back in for another kiss.

"Who knew all I had to do was get you two alone on a hiking trail for you to finally kiss, huh?" Ashton's chuckled made you both pull away, making you both look like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh shut up, I'm never going on a hike with any of you again," you huffed and gratefully took the park ranger’s hand as he helped you on to what looked like a golf car.

It was a short trip back to the medical center, where they treated your very swollen ankle with ice while you downed all the water you could get your hands on. But you were grateful that Calum hadn't left your side once, his hand in yours as you squeezed it whenever you'd hit a bump or when the park ranger wrapped your ankle. His hand was still in yours as you both drove back to the city and it never left yours even when you both laid on the couch in his living room that night, drifting off in each other's company for once accepting that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just stolen glances.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop  @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @notinthesameguey

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Summer of Whump #4: Escape

Warnings: drugging, vomit, blood

Villain's face was smacked against the roof of a "Villain Containment Practices" AKA a VCP car. He groaned and elbowed the ruthless Hero who dared to lay hands on him.

"Calm down," the unlucky Hero seethed. "Things will be easier for you."

"But not for you," Villain sassed which resulted in the hero lifting his head and smacking his nose hard.

"Will you mind?!" Villain yelled. He felt blood pouring out of his nose and draining into his mouth. Broken. He groaned, annoyed.

"Serves you right," the hero taunted close to Villain's ear. She pulled on his earlope and clicked the handcuffs into place.

The second that Villain was settled into the VCP car, he started blabbering and wiping his nose against his sleeve.

"Okay," he said between wipes. "So here's how it happened. I was literally walking home, minding my own beeswax, when this homesless guy comes up to me. Now, me? I am very clean and I like my cleanliness. So anyways, this guy comes up to me and now, he is begging for money and I'm like, 'Dude, personal space here'. I mean, of course this guy has no etiquette skills so he attacks me. Now, my wallet was in my pocket. Still is, for your information, you can find some nice cash in there. Anyways, this guy he touches my wallet and tries to grabs it- wait, guys, I shouldn't be being arrested. It was self-defense! Hey, hey!" Villain reached his hand forward and jostled one of the hero's head. "Wakey, wakey," he said. The hero turned and scowled at him.

"Did you hear me?" Villain asked. "It was self-defense."

"But, Villain, did you have to steal that guy's own wallet and hospitalize him?" The hero asked. "We know that he was doing something illegal also, but he being taken care of. So, please, shut up."

"But, but," Villain whined.

"Zip."

Villain threw himself back against the leather seats, scowling himself. This was unfair. Why couldn't he be a normal citizen without being arrested?

He placed a hand over his nose and summoned his healing powers. In a flash of painful light, the nose clicked into place.

"I thought we inhibited his powers," The driving hero mumbled to the other.

"Shoot. Pull over," the other, also known as the sassy one who broke Villain's nose (we'll call him Nosey), hopped out of the car and joined Villain in the backseat with a clipboard.

"So, Villain," Nosey said. "We are going to have to administer a power suppressor. Do you have any allergies to any drugs or medications?"

Villain glanced at Nosey with a "you serious?" expression. He then shook his head.

"Verbal confirmation."

"No you idiot," Villain snarled. "Are you blind in there." He waved a hand in front of Nosey's face.

"Cut the attitude man," Nosey warned and started to recite all of the questions in a bored tone like they have done this one too many times. Villain answered with the same montone tongue, sneering at Nosey like he was trash- which, in Villain's mind, he was.

"Okay," Nosey finished and plucked a hypodermic needle from their pocket. Villain watched suspiciously as they filled it up with a clear liquid from a small bottle. It was something actually from a pharmacy, he could tell. He reached forward and plucked the bottle out of the other's hands with a sharp, "Gimme."

Villain quickly skimmed over the words, stopping at each -zephines or -pams with a confused look on his face.

"What's in this?" Villain asked. Before Nosey replied, they jabbed the needle into Villain's neck and administered the contents.

"Hey!" Villain exclaimed, pulling the needle out. Almost immediately, he was hit by a cold sensation.

"Hey," he mumbled drowsily, his eyelids drooping. "Did-did you drug me?"

Nosey grabbed Villain's chin and forced the Villain to look at them.

"Of course, you were quite intolerable," then they reached behind them and pulled out another needle. The power suppressor.

Nosey easily emptied the drug into the vein on Villain's wrist with a satisfied smile at Villain's shock. They then unbuckled Villain and helped him lay down on the seats.

"Sweet dreams," Nosey said right before the darkness engulfed Villain.

Villain woke in a damp room, shivering out of his skin. He groggily looked around, found nothing of interest, and closed his eyes again. He vaguely recognized that the drug was still running through his system- whether it be the sedative or the suppressor, he didn't know which. He also knew that he should take advantage of the chance to rest while he had it.

That "chance to rest" actually became only five minutes. The damp coolness of the cell was replaced by a gust a warm air. Villain didn't care, or didn't realize, that Hero was standing in front of him.

He did open his eyes, however, when he heard Nosey's pipsqueak voice, "I thought he was awake."

"He is probably still drugged up," Hero said in her calm, orderly tone. "Oh there he is," she ran her fingers over Villain's cheek, checking for any type of reaction. Finding none, she stepped back and whispered something to Sidekick that Villain couldn't make out.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but being the positive guy he was, he decided on cotton candy. Make the situation a little better.

He closed his eyes again, even though Nosey and Hero were standing right there and talking about him. He picked up bits and pieces:

"Move him to a warmer cell, one with a bed," came Hero's assertive voice.

"He doesn't deserve it!" came Nosey's ear-shattering chirps of a voice.

"He is laying on the ground in a cell, hardly able to keep his head from rolling around. Make him comfortable. He needs the rest for what's about to come."

Even though Hero's voice was indeed calming, it still made Villain's heart pump faster. They were going to so something to him. He frowned weakly- hardly a frown in the hero's eyes. He didn't know why, but it sounded like they were going to do more than just hurt him.

Kill him, or maybe do tests on his healing powers.

Villain whimpered loudly which brought the heros attention. His eyes were squeezed shut, unable to look at them. A wave a fear came over him when someone's (hopefully not Nosey's) arms wrapped around him and lifted him from his spot. He squirmed, trying to break free.

"Shut up," came a sing-song voice. It made Villain freak out, kicking and panting. It was Nosey. Nosey was touching him.

"Sheesh," Nosey exclaimed at the outburst and readjusted Villain so that they (Nosey) was much more comfortable, but the newly formed position stressed Villain's limbs.

"W- w," Villain croaked. "... taking?"

"Aw look at you, so out of it and quiet. Hardly able to form a complete word," Nosey gave a fake pouty face that Villain didn't even register.

Sleep once again tugged at him, but he tried to keep his eyes pried open. He would never forgive himself if he fell asleep in Nosey's arms.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity of floating through the air, Villain was sat down on a bed. Without any resistance, he allowed his limbs to be moved around and a thick, warm blanket to be draped over his body.

He closed his eyes, relishing the warmth and inviting comfort. He let out a few grumpy mutterings as the drug took hold once again and he fell into a deep slumber that only time could wake him from.

Nosey left immediately after tucking Villain in, if they even called it that. More like heeding to their boss's orders, but they hated it. Hated the way that Villain was being treated like a hero himself.

Hero entered the warm cell that Villain was placed in. The room was much nicer than the damp one, with a bed, light, and heating unit, but still a cell nevertheless.

She walked over to Villain's sleeping figure and traced his cheek with her long, unkept, fingernails. He didn't stir, which was good. Very carefully, she lifted the covers off and placed her hand on his chest.

And then she worked her powers, digging into Villain's conscience. It was foggy, which was understandable, and very difficult to navigate through, but she still found her destination.

The truth about what happened.

She watched the scene in her head. An imposter homeless man stalking up to Villain, asking for cash. Villain refused, beginning to walk away, but the homeless guy took out a gun and smacked the back of Villain's head. Villain then wheeled around and shoved the man against a nearby wall, giving him a round of punches. As Villain performed his beating, the homeless guy reached around and took Villain's wallet out. Villain quickly finished his work with a devastating punch that left the man in a heap. He then swooped down and grabbed his stolen wallet with a shrug.

Hero gasped and stepped backwards, quickly making sure that Villain didn't wake up. He didn't, so Hero put the blanket back over him and left the room.

As she strolled down the hallway, she thought of the feeling that she was getting from Villain's memories. Innocence. Villain was innocent. Not that he didn't do the extravagant illegal works that he regularly took part in, but that he had no idea that what he was doing was wrong.

He was misguided.

It took Villain some time to completely recover from the suppressor, but when he did, boy he felt like he could fly to the moon and back.

The downside of having healing powers was that you needed them for everyday function. They run your body systems like your nervous system does. It powers them like food and water does, so when those were taken away, Villain's body went on momentarily shut down. Hopefully Hero realized this before she decided to drug him again.

One day, Hero entered his cell as he was picking through breakfast. He had no recollection of Hero's impediment of his memories only days before.

"Villain," Hero cleared her throat and eyed Villain's plate in curiosity. "It's not poisoned," she laughed, wondering why he wasn't eating much.

"Not hungry," Villain replied, glancing at Hero for a brief second.

"You need the energy. We are going to start, uh, well, work today."

"Work?" Villain asked, absent-mindly.

"Yes. You are a prisoner," the words hurt Hero almost as much as she was the one receiving them. He really wasn't a prisoner. He was going to get reformed, learn morals, and hopefully become a hero, which was a long shot, but one should always hope for the best.

Hero sat on his bed as he finished lapping up the breakfast, which took a good thirty minutes. Hero was patient, however. Villain would need time to be assimilated into a hero's society. Spending some time in silence, watching him eat was insignificant compared to what he was about to do.

Two days later, Villain was throwing up in a toilet. Throwing up, not due to sickness or eating something funny, but from stress and exertion. The exercises that the heros made him, along with all the other "reforming" villains, were insane and taxing. Not to mention the mental strain with all of the "moral speeches" and assessments. Mulitple choice questions like: Which is the right thing to do when you see someone being beat up? A.) Call the cops or heros; B.) Stop the fight; C.) Talk them out of it calmly; or D.) All of the above. Villain put down B.

He failed the test.

Villain rested his forehead against the cool toilet seat. He had to get out of here. Runaway and leave. If only two days led up to the this, Villain glanced down at the bloody vomit in the toilet, then what would two weeks result in? Power suppressing? Villain shuddered. He couldn't go through that again.

So, Villain made the decision right then and there, infront of the toilet, that he would escape tonight and leave the city.

Forever.

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

[bookishofalder]

Joke of a Batman

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Request: @meowiemari Okie dokie!!! So Spencer x male reader where the reader is the driver for the robbers. They arrested him after finding him in a gas station getting snacks. While driving in his car with Morgan, Reid, and Hotch, the reader is in the passenger seat telling them the location because he was just there for the money. Hotch and Morgan went while Spencer stays to keep an eye on him. Reader’s playlist in his car plays old Justin Bieber songs and it’s gonna be me by NSYNC. Spencer sees his embarrassment and  awkwardly sings a bit so he doesn’t feel shame. Later in absolute a few minuets the two started singing and as soon as Morgan comes back with Hotch, they both quickly turn off the playlist and exchange numbers. :)

Warnings: Swearing, implied SMUT (super brief)

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I loved writing this, and hope I you enjoy. This was my first time writing the reader as male-so please tell me if I can improve! Tried to keep reader description as vague as possible. Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart​ for encouraging me to get writing :) 

“That’ll be $11.75, please.” The bored gas station attendant droned, staring at you expectantly. You began to pull out a few bills from your wallet, ready to get home and eat your pint of ice cream in peace, but before you could count out what you needed, a voice behind you cut in.

“He’s no longer going to be making a purchase today, actually,” Spinning around in alarm, you find yourself face to face with two imposing men, one with a deep frown and overall authoritative air with his crisp suit, the other a handsome but tall and physically intimidating specimen.

With a gulp, you stuff the cash in your wallet. Who were these guys?

“Y/F/N?”

You nod as heat creeps up your neck, burning your face. Fucking Peter Robbins, you always knew, was going to be the death of you. And now it looked like your latest foray into his questionable life was going to land you in jail. These had to be cops.

You knew you should have ignored his call. You’d been telling yourself for years not to help him, he was just going to get himself in trouble again and call again, and you got nothing out of it. He used you because he knew you liked him. The two of you had been friends for years, and it didn’t take him long to realize the ways he could manipulate you because of how you felt.

It took you a lot longer to catch on to what he was doing.

But fuck, you still came running when he called, didn’t you? Like you were some joke of a Batman and he was shining his light into the sky calling for you. If only.

“That’s, yeah, that’s me.” You replied, slowly shoving your wallet into your front pocket before holding your hands in front of you in surrender. Whatever happened, you decide at this moment that you never want to see Peter again. Because giving that man a ride in hopes he’d one day say he was interested was not worth this.

“Mr. (Y/L/N), we’re placing you under arrest,” The frowning man held out his badge, showing you he was one Agent Hotchner from the fucking FBI. You tuned him out, your ears suddenly ringing, alarm shooting through you. Getting arrested was one thing, but the FBI? What in the living hell had Peter gotten into? Got you into?

He called you for a ride. It was just supposed to be a ride.

You were surprised when they didn’t cuff you, but you weren’t stupid enough to question them. They led you outside, where the gas station was quiet, only their large black SUV and your Honda Civic parked out front. You kept your eyes down, a sting threatening the corners but you were not going to cry. You needed to take this one step at a time, and not overreact. You surely didn’t fuck up that badly, did you? They’d said ‘suspicion of aiding a crime’, only suspicion.

“Listen, kid,” The bald Agent whose name you learned was Morgan turned and faced you, his expression serious. You bristled slightly at him calling you ‘kid’, but based on the crows' feet around his eyes, maybe he was older than he let on. “We know that you were just the driver today, and that you’d probably have no clue what’s going on right now.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, “Peter Robbins has ensured I fuck up my life at least once a year for nearly a decade. This is just...a new level for me.” You shrug, trying not to think of what your family was going to say when they found out. Would you lose your job?

“We’ve been watching Peter and his associates for a while now,” Agent Hotchner replied, and your brows raised in surprise. “Yes, he’s escalated from petty crimes that upset the local sheriff to armed robbery. Unfortunately, one of his partners happens to enjoy killing. Which is why we were called in.” He stops speaking abruptly when another Agent, you assume from the gun on his belt, steps around the SUV and up to your group.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. This Agent is stunningly handsome, much younger than the other two. His eyes, which met yours for only a moment before flitting away, were a soft honey brown that sucked you right in. He had a bit of a shadow along his jaw, his wavy brown hair unkempt in the best kind of way, as though he’d just rolled out of bed looking that perfect. And you could tell he didn’t even realize the power he had. Standing next to two burly, thick muscled Agents, you could understand why. But in your brief assessment of this new man, you could see the lean strength of him, the muscles of his lower arms, veins in his hands. He was tall, too, taller than either of the other men, which was saying something.

“What’s up, Reid?” Morgan asked, and the new arrival-Reid-held up his phone.

“Garcia can’t pull anything from the Honda, it’s, her words, an ancient species.” He spoke quickly, almost as though the words couldn’t find their way off of his tongue quickly enough. You tried not to fixate on his mouth, because damn it, his lips were perfect.

Absentmindedly, you crossed your arms across your chest, feeling tense and tired. When Reid’s eyes followed the movement, you felt frozen under his gaze, watching with your breath held as it dragged slowly up to your face. His expression was unreadable, yet you still felt your cheeks grow warmer.

“Listen, (Y/N), we know you don’t have any real part in Peter’s crimes. We intercepted his calls and texts, we know he asked you to pick him up today, last minute.” Agent Hotchner said, his eyes burning into yours.

You looked away from the other men, shame flooding through you. “Peter always calls, and I always answer. But I really don’t know anything about what he does, I didn't know he was even with anyone else today. He asked me to pick him up right out front of the pharmacy, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the edge to your voice, the wordless plea that they understand you had no clue what was going on. And if innocent people were dying, you would do anything you could to help them put a stop to it.

Reid tilted his head slightly as he watched you, “We’ve seen the messages, (Y/N), we know how he treats you, giving you a little, yet taking a lot,” The tears almost threaten now, so you glance away, looking at the ground as you nod, “And he doesn’t even tell you what he’s taking, the danger he’s putting you in. He’s going to go away for a long time, but you don’t have to.”

At this, your head snaps up and you look between the three men, expecting them to laugh and finally cuff you. But they all wear the same neutral expression, all watching you.

“Like I said, I don’t know much abou-“

Reid shook his head, politely interjecting, “We understand. But you know where you took him today, right?” At your nod, Reid stepped a little closer, peering down at you, “We need you to take us to him. And tell us any other addresses you can remember picking him up from or taking him to in the last year. Can you help us? You won’t be under arrest if you can give us what we need to stop Peter and the men he’s working with.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Of course, you would help, regardless of whether you were still under arrest; you had no loyalty whatsoever to Peter. You only ever showed up for him because you hoped, each time, that it would be the time he would go beyond flirting. That the feelings were mutual. But if he was committing crimes-fuck, robbing people, working with a murderer, then you were done with him.

“I can tell you addresses, and I can show where he is now, I just,” You paused, closing your eyes briefly to pull in a breath, steadying yourself, “Please, don’t hurt him, if you don’t need to, I mean.”

Reid’s eyes, which you found the moment you opened yours, visibly softened at your words. He seemed a little surprised, you thought, though it was hard to tell. He was difficult to read, and you’d only just met him. He nodded reassuringly before looking to Agent Hotchner expectantly while you waited, your insides in knots.

“(Y/N), Spencer is going to go with you in your vehicle, and we’ll be following behind. Take us as close as you can without being obvious. Reid,” He turned to the handsome agent, “We’re going to check the car first, can you-“ He gestured wordlessly in your direction, which made you frown in confusion.

Reid nodded, and you watched as the two other agents moved to search your car, while he moved toward you. “I’m going to search you for weapons, okay?” He explained, holding his hands out as if waiting for your permission.

You stared, perhaps a beat too long, at his long-fingered hands. With a shy bob of your head, you looked to Reid, “Of course, I understand.” And the agent began to pat you down as you stood awkwardly.

It wasn’t as though the action was intimate or affectionate, but for whatever reason, you did feel his touch was hesitant. He was gentle, considerate...it surprised you. And then his hands slid up your back as he stood in front of you, and you became acutely aware of the thin cotton t-shirt your wore, instantly becoming self-conscious. You wondered what he thought of you, of your body.

Mind out of the gutter, you told yourself.

It was then, when Reid leaned back, his hands sliding from your back to your chest, that time seemed to stand still, just for a moment. They moved across your stomach briefly, and as they began to pull away, the search complete, you looked up. Reid was staring at you, his cheeks flushed, eyes heavy. You caught your breath, his gaze was so intense, but before you could even try to think of what to say, he was swiftly stepping back, breaking eye contact with a heavy swallow.

You were kind of relieved. That had been almost too intense, whatever that was. The relief lasted only moments until Agent Hotchner called out that your car was good to go, and you remembered you had a twenty-minute car ride alone with the Reid.

Fuck.

+

The first few minutes of the drive are bearable enough, Spencer takes the wheel as you give him directions to the subdivision where you had dropped Peter off. It’s when the silence starts to press in, and you don’t know what to say to fill it, that things swiftly change.

Sensing the tension, no doubt, Reid reaches out to the audio power button and hits your stereo on. With an internal groan, you suddenly wish you could just jump out of the moving vehicle when the song you’d been listening to picks back up.

'Cause I've had everything But no one's listening And that's just fucking lonely I'm so lonely Lonely

You had put on a playlist you considered your ‘sad songs’ compilation for whenever you were let down by Peter or any other man. You enjoyed wallowing in self-pity for just a little while after each encounter. But now, as Justin Bieber crooned sadly, you didn't feel sad, just humiliated. You were in your car with a fiercely hot FBI agent who had given you some kind of fucking bedroom eyes just minutes ago as he pats you down, and this song plays.

Your expression must have been obvious, as you saw Reid look at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, frowning somewhat. When the song ended, you didn’t get a chance to be relieved before ‘Somebody to Love” began playing. This time, you sighed aloud, sinking somewhat into your seat and wishing you could dissolve into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch.

Until that is, you glanced up and saw Reid’s fingers tapping gently on the steering wheel to the beat. Surprised, you looked around to the agent and he was mouthing the words, singing along with the chorus. Stunned, you just watched him for a moment, quickly finding yourself enraptured by the way his plump lips moved around the words, how his tongue would wet them between lines, how his eyes-

Fuck, he was looking right at you. You smiled quickly but looked away, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You really had much bigger, more important shit to be concerned with right now, yet here you were wondering what the hell this perfect man, this FBI agent that was far too handsome for his own good, was doing singing along with the silly song, and why the look he gave you had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Not to mention, the guilt that accompanied those thoughts, brief as they were, of what the lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like on your body. Wrapped around your cock. Fuck.

He hadn’t said anything, but his fingers continued to tap along with the beat with ease. Eventually, when you directed him to the final turn, you chanced another glance at him. As if expecting your gaze, he turned his head and smiled at you, “I’m Spencer, by the way, Dr. Spencer Reid.” You blinked. Doctor?

“Oh, uh. Wow. Nice to meet you, Dr-“

“You can call me Spencer,” He cut in, his expression somewhat amused.

You nodded, “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Though I wish it were under different circumstances, perhaps where I wasn’t a criminal piece of shit.”

He pulled the car over, stopped at the community mailbox you had described as the perfect place to park. Once he’d turned the engine off, he turned to face you, those warm eyes giving you a gentle look. “You aren’t a criminal piece of shit, (Y/N),” Oh, you loved the way your name sounded coming from him. “I’d go as far as to say you’re a victim in all of this.”

You scoffed, waving a hand in protest, “No, I really should have known better than to help Peter.”

But Spencer shook his head, “As I said earlier, we saw the messages. He manipulates you, and he doesn’t ever tell you what he’s actually doing. He just gets you to give him rides, acts like it’s a way to hang out when really he’s using you as a cover because, in reality, you’re a law-abiding, hardworking, kind man. Men like him don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, (Y/N).”

Letting out a breath, your mind went blank at Spencer’s words, failing you entirely. You believed every word he’d said, and you felt warm all over at the intense way he watched you, it was almost...protective.

Before your mind could reboot and you could trust yourself to open your mouth and not simply drool, a tap on the window drew your eyes beyond Spencer. Agent Hotchner stood there, waiting patiently with his arms crossed.

Spencer climbed out of your car, but you stayed put, glad for a moment to close your eyes and try to steady your beating heart. After this was over, you were climbing into your bathtub and staying there for the rest of the week. Maybe the rest of the month.

“Prentiss and JJ are parked at the North end, they’re going to come with us. Can you wait here, with (Y/N), and call Garcia and have him give her the other locations?”

You heard Spencer agree and bid his fellow agents goodbye before climbing back into your car. He smiled warmly at you, and you couldn’t help but return it, your own shy and uncertain. “You heard what our task is?” He asked you, his head tilted again, watching you curiously.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. But first, can you give me your phone, please?” He held his hand out expectantly. You handed it over, first pointing it towards your face to unlock it. His fingers brushed yours when he took the phone from you, and if you hadn’t been looking at him already, you wouldn’t have believed it was intentional. But it was because at the slight contact, your eyes had widened and Spencer...Spencer had smirked.

He clicked around on your phone for a moment, hit one final button and then passed it back to you, looking satisfied. When you took it back, his phone chimed in his pocket. Confused, you peered down at your screen to see he’d added his name to your contacts and sent himself a text from your phone. Well fuck.

He was watching you with an amused expression, “Once this case is over, (Y/N), I’d love it if you would allow me to take you to dinner.”

“I, wow,” You stammered, nervously running your hair through your hair. His eyes followed your movement, and you saw a glint behind the warmth, of desire. Hunger. You didn’t think twice. “I’d love to, Spencer.” He grinned at you.

And surprising even yourself, you reached out and squeezed his hand. And when he returned the pressure and ran his thumb softly across the back of your hand, all thoughts of Peter left your mind as *NSYNC played in the background and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

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