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phddyke · 9 months

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What Blitz doesn’t know:

1. Stolas’s marriage is abusive

* He might not even know it’s bad. All he’s seen is royal portraits of their happy family together as he’s been led through the halls, and the Hellhound security team brought him in after Stella finished her rant. Based on his expression after Ozzie implies their affair ruined Stolas’s marriage/relationship with his daughter, he feels guilt about that. Maybe he feels like a homewrecker.

* I’m not entirely sure he knows Stolas asked for a divorce immediately after their one-night stand. Based on the pilot, he ran away with the book too fast to hear him.

* And, by that token, he doesn’t have a clue Striker was hired by Stella to not only kill Stolas but torture him first (and he never told Stolas Striker was a danger because he didn’t think he was especially unique, and now feels bad about that, I’m sure).

2. That his reaction in Ozzie’s was about being humiliated in front of so many people, not actually because he was ashamed of Blitzø.

3. By that same token, Stolas only responding with “okay” when Blitz says that their relationship is clearly only about “wanting me to fuck you” was NOT actually confirmation that Blitz’s suspicions were correct.

4. Stolas’s text messages were him trying to reassure Blitz he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want—he just became really unclear about what he wants in the process, which makes it look like he doesn’t want him to visit.

5. That he improved Stolas’s life, he didn’t ruin it. Because of Blitz, he got the closest he ever did to telling his daughter the truth about his relationship, asked for a divorce, and even after Ozzie’s he stood up for himself and DEMANDED the divorce! Not to mention Blitz clearly gave him the only happiness he had in a while.

6. The only pictures Stolas has on his phone of them make it look like Blitz is constantly annoyed by his presence.

7. He has absolutely no clue whatsoever about Blitzø’s feelings. None.

8. Striker made fun of him about the fact that Blitz didn’t come to save him.

9. He probably offered for Blitz to be his bodyguard because Stella said “Can you imagine if he didn’t have money!”, so he doesn’t think anyone will have sex with/hang out with him if money isn’t involved.

10. Stolas isn’t actually racist or classist, it’s more like he says things thoughtlessly and is blinded by privilege in many aspects. But he doesn’t have some weird fetish for imps.

11. Stolas loves him!! We all know he’s a horny motherfucker but he does deeply love Blitz so much.

What Stolas doesn’t know:

Oh man, where do I start.

1. Blitzø’s biggest fear is dying alone.

2. He’s afraid to get close to Stolas because of commitment issues and the “eventually everyone goes” mentality, BUT also because of the race/class difference he’s scared to lose his freedom and basically become one of Stolas’s servants.

3. He comes toward Stolas in the hallucination anyway. Away from everyone else and toward him. (Crawls toward him, in fact.)

4. That he stole Verosika’s car, ran three rings to Wrath, maxed her credit cards on shitty horseback-riding lessons, and left her to pay for the hotel room while they were dating. (He does know that Blitz was a selfish lover to her and broke her heart, though.)

5. He’s in awe of Stolas. You can see it when he sees his demon form when Stolas saves him, when he puts on his human disguise, and when he’s being trampled on the ground and sees Stolas’s tail feathers as he’s being carried away above him. He’s put him on such a pedestal that 1) he can’t believe Stolas would ever love him back and 2) he’s forgotten that Stolas is mortal and can be hurt, both emotionally and physically.

6. Blitzø has no idea of Stolas’s feelings toward him—since episode 2 we’ve been aware that he’s operating under the assumption that “no one” loves him, and since Ozzie’s we know Blitzø thinks that Stolas makes it clear “all the time” that their arrangement doesn’t go deeper than fucking. Therefore, when he invited him to the date at Ozzie’s, he wasn’t cruelly playing with his feelings; he had no idea said feelings existed (though, he probably should’ve been honest that he wanted to spy on M&M). Even when Moxxie says, “He seems to like you, sir,” Blitzø responds with “Okay, my dick is GOOD—but it is not that good,” misinterpreting Moxxie’s observation of Stolas’s feelings for him as Stolas’s sexual interest in him.

7. His “oh yeah…I guess it is, huh” when Stolas called Ozzie’s their first “real” date wasn’t him being like “ew I don’t wanna go on a date with this guy,” but more like “Oh right…this is our first real date and I’m using it to spy on M&M, this isn’t really how I wanted our first ‘real’ date to be.”

8. Blitzø’s obsession with M&M stems from his own desire to have a happy, healthy, monogamous marriage like they do, despite constantly mocking them about it.

9. Blitzø has a picture of Stolas asleep and himself looking happy to be cuddled up with him forefront on his phone.

10. Blitzø has scratched himself out of every picture of himself, his friends, his daughter (and twin sister) on his walls.

11. The betrayed look on his face—the “I knew this was going to happen but I was hoping it wouldn’t” when Stolas covered his face at Ozzie’s.

12. How concerned he looked when Stolas said “I seem to have been stolen by your little cowboy friend,” how much MORE concerned he looked when Striker spoke to him directly, that he was so furious he broke his phone AND damaged his car after that before he started driving recklessly and seemed to be seriously contemplating going for Stolas himself. He even grilled M&M on their ability to do so, rushed through the doctor’s appointment, vented about it in the waiting room, and looked so happy when he thought they’d brought Stolas back safe and sound. (Didn’t even correct the doctor who called him “Bingo,” just wanted to get out of there.)

13. The look on his face and the genuine surprise when he said “he can get HURT?” Not to mention the “Stolas got what?” and the crack in his voice when he said “how?”

14. When he said “If you promise this isn’t some fuck-fest invite it does sound like a blast and a half,” he wasn’t annoyed with Stolas, he was annoyed that the only thing he thought Stolas cared about was sex with him.

15. That he changed the screaming sound of Stolas’s ringtone to a cute bird one and presumably changed the contact name from “Creepy Mouth (aka one night stand bird dick)” to his actual name. Not to mention, his ringtone for Loona is a dog one—what does it say that he made Stolas’s a bird one?

16. When Blitzø is giving Stolas that weird look when they meet as children, he’s not finding kid!Stolas weird or annoying, he’s weirded out because Stolas’s father is there acting like a jackass and hitting him in front of Blitzø. (It took me multiple rewatches to notice that one, actually.)

17. That despite saying “We ain’t bodyguards. That was a one-time thing we did badly,” he saved Stolas from Striker the first time without 1) being asked or 2) paid to do it. He just did—and didn’t tell him afterwards in order to receive any type of accolades. He saved him quietly.

18. He didn’t actually deny that Stolas was his boyfriend when that’s what Millie called him.

19. Striker was the first person outside of I.M.P. to call Blitzø on his feelings for Stolas—and mock him for them.

20. “I’ll take the first watch” and “You guys better go make sure Stolas is okay” in Loo Loo Land.

21. Blitz tried to get his attention when he was attempting to break into Stolas’s room. That’s gotta mean something, idk what.

22. Blitzø lied to everyone, including himself, that he had to sleep with Stolas to get the Grimoire when he actually did that AND spent the entire night with him of his own free will (which actually jeopardized his mission, let alone helped it).

23. Blitz remembered him for over two decades—Stolas had forgotten him until he showed up again, it seems.

24. Blitzø had a chance to go home with Cash Buckzo but he stayed and played with Stolas instead.

25. He was about to say something when Fizzarolli called his love life “a pile of shit” before Verosika cut him off. He also looks at Stolas and back when Fizz sings, “Some nerve you’ve got to comment on a relationship.”

26. He cried after Ozzie’s.

* He got wasted off his ass after Ozzie’s.

* He said he could drink Queen Bee-lzebub under the table because “you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had” and told Loona he had “a really shitty day.”

* He was gonna have sex with a dude who looked like Stolas but in the end got rid of him—and requested a man by the same name as the lead in the soap opera Stolas also watches.

* He made out with, at minimum, four strangers (if Dennis was in the five-person makeout).

* He cried that Fizz was right that he was gonna die alone again.

* Even though he couldn’t remember Dennis’s name when they’d been making out ten seconds ago, the last word on his lips before he fell asleep was “Stolas” (he also seems to have gone in increasing order of importance with the names he muttered).

27. That he slept with Chaz, but said he was terrible in bed, used him for information, and snuck out as soon as Chaz was asleep instead of staying beside him all night.

28. That Blitzø was paid to hang out with him that day (though thankfully neither of them know that he was only worth $5 and a slim-fit condom to Cash Buckzo), and he didn’t want to steal from him.

29. How scared Blitz looked when he was being led back to Stolas’s room after he said “I will deal with him accordingly.”

30. He’s almost definitely reading Stolas’s apologetic and “only if you want!” texts as lack of interest.

31. How hurt/annoyed Blitz is every time Stolas thoughtlessly says something about imps, which is especially prevalent in “Harvest Moon Festival.”

32. Despite the persona he puts on and what Stolas probably believes because of that persona, Blitzø is clearly struggling with self-hatred and self-worth issues in general.

33. How much it’s going to hurt Blitzø when he reaches out and Stolas rejects him (or what he’s going to see as Stolas’s rejection when he gives him the crystal)—because that’s exactly what happened with his sister. For all we know, Stolas isn’t even aware that Blitzø has a twin sister.

34. He loves Stolas with everything he has and deep down he’s aware of that, even if he’s lying to himself about it.

Conclusion: AHHHHHH

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plentyoffandoms · 1 month

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Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous Wrestler Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: none

Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @beingallelite 2nd gif @jasvvy 3rd gif @elitehanitje

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

WC: 1036

I zoned out Austin as he spoke about the new song he wrote. It is hard to zone out my youngest son, but there is only one person who can make me do that.

Every single time I see her, it is like I can only focus on her and her alone.

I met her after Tina and I got a divorce, and we became instant friends. We had a lot in common, and it took me a very long time to realise that I have feelings for her.

But at the time, she was in a relationship, and I decided it was time to move on not only from her but from Tina.

Also, Colten and Austin insisted I get back out there. They told me that they were comfortable with me dating, and that is all I wanted.

Ever since then, she has been in and out of my life, well work life, but now she is working for AEW, and I have seen her ever day since.

"Dad, are you even listening to me?" Austin asked as he snapped his fingers in my face. I swatted his hand away and asked him to repeat himself, but of course, he didn't. He knew why I zoned out.

"You know, she is single. You are single. Maybe it is time you ask her out." He calmly said.

"I have heard her talking to Amanda, saying that she wants to be single for a bit." I said to him.

"But that was months ago, and we see the way how she looks at you." Colten said as he stood next to me.

"Maybe you two should worry about your own love lives instead of focusing on mine." I was done with this conversation.

"Our love lives are just fine there, Dad, but I will say that you need to ask her before she gets taken off the market again. This is the longest I have ever seen her single." Colten said to me, and he was right, but I just didn't want to ruin our friendship.

COLTEN GUNN'S POV:

"Austin, I think it is time." I told my younger brother as we watched our Dad walk to the woman we were just talking about.

"You mean, Operation Love?" He asked excitedly.

"Yes, that. I think we need to include Anthony and Max in on this." I told him, as I pulled out my phone to text Anthony. He answers far faster than Max does.

"I agree. They have mentioned how Dad is always looking at her."

The two of us found the two of them in the spot where Anthony said they would be.

"Okay, so are we going super romantic or just something casual?" Max asked. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Something a bit casual, I think. If we go over the top, both of them will be pissed." I said to the three of them.

"We got a bit, though. We will be in Massachusetts next week, and the two of them have talked about Olena for a bit now, but they have never made reservations to go. Dad says he thinks it is too romantic." Max rolled his eyes at me.

"Well, they have four cupids to help with these two lost causes." Max and Austin seemed to have one mind as they both said that.

Anthony and I just looked at one another, knowing the two of us would have to rein these two in.

◆

"Reservations for two. Got them a table in the corner to give them a bit of privacy. Now, let's go over the plan one more time." Max said as he and Austin paced back and forth.

"We go with our Dad to Olena, ask him to go inside and get our table." I said. "Austin and I will say we forgot something in the car and meet you two at our dinner our reservation across the street."

"And we will tell her that you three are already inside and that we will be inside in a bit." Anthony said after me.

"Operation Love is a go!" Austin said, almost jumping in the air. He gets excited about anything, and I love that about my brother.

BILLY GUNN'S POV:

I should have known that those two were up to something. We got to the restaurant, and they both said they forgot something in the car and that I should go on without them, as they will catch up.

When I got to the table and saw that it was only for two, I almost turned around and cancelled the whole thing, but then I saw her walking towards me.

"I see that it just the two of us." She pointed out.

"It seems so. Would you still like to have dinner with me, or we could cancel," She placed her hand on my arm, and I stopped talking.

"I would love to have dinner with you, Billy." I seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I pulled out her chair and waited until she sat down. I took my seat across from her.

After our food came, and the two of us were enjoying it, she spoke up, "I guess the four of them got sick of waiting on us to make a move."

"Yeah, I mean, I should be mad at them for tricking the two of us into doing this, but I am not. I am happy they did." I smiled as I reached across the table and grasped her hand in mine.

◆

The two of us left the restaurant, with my jacket drapped over her shoulders, her hand in mine. "Even though that place was delicious, I am feeling some ice cream." She said.

"Toscanini's Ice Cream it is then." As I opened the car door for her.

"You remember my favourite place here."

"I remember everything about you." I was serious.

I got in the driver's side, and the two of us drove off. I ignored my four sons as we passed them, as they were leaving the restaurant that was across the street from Olena.

I am thankful that they actually butted their heads in my business for one.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

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imomnba-x07 · 1 year

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Okay I think I’m ganna elaborate on my Thunderbolts and New World Order theory because I can and I’m having IMMENSE brain rot rn. (Also please lemme know your thoughts or feel free to add on to this)

- General Ross as we know plays a pretty big role in both films. Neither of our boys have any love for Ross ESPECIALLY Sam, after the way he was treated on the raft. So when Ross starts gaining more political power, Sam is most likely immediately distrusting and suspicious of it and knows Ross well enough to know that he would be up to something more now with his presidential power.

- so essentially (either through the grape vine, walkers big ass mouth, or possibly even Everett Ross, I’ll get into my theory about him in a minute😏) Sam gets wind of what Thaddeus and Val are up to and don’t trust either of them to have control over a team of super powered individuals. So Sam wants to know more about this new team on the playing field but doesn’t have a contact on the inside that he trusts enough to get more information.

- that’s is, until Bucky potentially volunteers himself. Then there’s a lot of back and forth between them “Bucky no it’s dangerous” Sam my middle name is danger 😡” “Sam you trust me right?” “With my life Bucky” “then trust me to do this for you, we need a man on the inside” “if you do this, you keep in contact with me you understand? No more of this disappearing on me act” “I promise, you won’t lose me again” blah blah blah I’ll let the fic writers come up with more poetic shit

- But the question is, how do they get Bucky into the Thunderbolts without drawing suspicion? Well, anyone remember this?

- there’s a video of Bucky acting as the winter soldier somewhere out there. It’s likely that Sam asked Sharon to get a hold of it and keep it off web. But for Operation infiltrate thunderbolts, its the perfect “evidence” to have released. So Sharon, with the permission of Sam and Bucky, leaks it online. It’s the perfect ploy to make Thaddeus think he has some sort of leverage or reason over Bucky now. Because let’s be honest, Thaddeus can’t refuse the offer of getting the winter soldier to work for him and do his bidding. Bucky of course acts oblivious to the video, and let’s himself get arrested once Thaddeus gets the authority to do so.

- Wam Bam Bippity Bow, Bucky is now on the thunderbolts team, acting like this wasn’t the plan, acting pissed that he’s there, acting forlorn and dejected that he’s tied back down to the government, leaving Val and Thaddeus none the wiser (Ha ha suck it assholes) all while secretly reporting back to Sam every-time he can when the cost is clear.

- and all of this can either take place in the final or first act of Cap 4 or the beginning act of Thunderbolts. It’s the perfect reason as to why They won’t be in the same projects, but would still give them each an opportunity to appear for some scenes in eachothers movies (BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT GETTING DIVORCED DAMMIT).

- Now if you want to add ANOTHER spicy level to this well look no further! Remember that I mentioned Everett Ross before? There have been a few rumors that Thunderbolts is going to mainly center around the search for Vibranium, and it would make sense from what we saw of Val in Wakanda Forever. There are also rumors that Sam might appear in secret invasion, where Everett Ross also is. Thus giving them a potential connection.

- Everett as we know is highly trusted by the Wakandans, so we know he likely tells them what Val is up to with the thunderbolts and the potential vibranium plot. Everett however can’t get involved because he was already arrested once by Val, and the Wakandans can’t be seen interfering with international affairs based off a hunch they got from an “anonymous” source. Gosh if only there was an avenger with ties to Wakanda who still may have to redeem themselves after releasing Zemo…..oh wait😏

- It’s a nice way for Bucky to earn the trust of the Wakandans back completely while simultaneously keeping an eye on the new team recruits to see who may actually be avengers material for Sam (Yelena and Ghost obviously) instead of just being a thunderbolt for the government to use as a living weapon.

Ok that’s it, that’s my master theory. I’ll probably add to this later cause I just have too many thoughts and the brain rot has overtaken me once again

#this is SO long I’m so sorry #but im really not cause I think I’m a genius #sambucky #sam wilson #james bucky buchanan barnes #sam wilson captain america #marvel #captain america #bucky barnes #tfatws #captain america new world order #captain america 4 #thunderbolts #thunderbolt ross #thaddeus ross #everett ross #contes #contessa valentina allegra de fontaine

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welcometololaland · 1 year

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All Austin Everything???

I didn't see it yet and I'm really curious about how they would be connected ^^

This ask is from...February 19th. I'm so sorry. I have no excuses. Literally my inbox is a mess of stuff from ages ago that I never got around to answering and I apologise profusely for my crimes.

I think this was an ask about the RWRB/LS crossover that has been LANGUISHING in my Google Docs for months now. Actually, a lot of fics have been languishing at the expense of ALTA which fights me and my sanity constantly. Every second day someone has to convince me not to set fire to it. But anyway, that is not the point.

I have thoughts about 911 Lone Star and RWRB and none of them are coherent but let me set them out for you:

I think a lot of people take a look at the characters in RWRB and Lone Star and think: Alex Claremont Diaz is to TK Strand what Henry FMCW (sorry Henry i'm not typing your full name) is to Carlos Reyes. Certainly, I see similarities there. Alex and TK both have personalities that are a little chaos demon (and are children of divorced parents), whereas Henry and Carlos are more cautious, considered and have a love of their life that is also somewhat the bane of their existence.

So this fic was always intended to be a bit of a fun character study more than anything. I can kind of see Carlos getting a little like ??? over a real life prince and I can see TK and Alex running off into the sunset and doing something unhinged like bringing home several lizards for their beloveds (on second thoughts, maybe not Alex - he was scared of those turkeys). ANYWAY.

The real point of the character study was to actually look at the alternative interactions, because I think if we scratch the surface a little deeper, more similarities appear.

Alex and Carlos have obvious similarities - in that they're both Mexican-American, born and raised in Austin and can cook. But they're similar in other ways too. They're both a little perfectionistic, overachieving types with a fear of failure. They're also both a little anxious and can bury themselves in a task to prevent confronting their emotions.

Henry and TK...oh my god. Do NOT get me started. Let's go with the obvious first: they were both very close with a parent that died young. They've both suffered from poor mental health and either experienced or been very close to someone experiencing difficulties with substances. They both historically believed themselves to be undeserving of the love that someone else was trying to give them and have both run away from expressions of that love when things got too real. They both (at some point) felt trapped in an identity that felt pre-determined (I see this for TK as his career as a firefighter given that his father is one and he had serious questions about it in s 1 and then obviously changed in s 2).

ANYWAY I think I had better points once upon a time and it's very late and I'm sleepy so sorry this is the best you're getting out of me tonight.

One day this fic will get finished, but in the meantime let's all just pray that ALTA writes itself and I am freed to stop stressing about a 110k piece of writing that just refuses to co-operate.

Thanks for the ask!

#All Austin Everything #the crossover that will never see the light of day #just kidding it will #i mean like 10k of it exists #i just have to #idk #finish it or something #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #rwrb #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #ask #answered #q

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powderblueblood · 2 months

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ohhhh 18, 9, and 2 for your Steve and Eddie (any verse you'd like

interrogate me about my characters

you are FEEEDING MEEEEE i'm sorry this took me like a couple of days my brain had to power back up after the weekend

2. THEIR EMOTIONAL/MORAL WEAK SPOTS

hellfire & ice/sequel!eddie starts off as your garden variety drug dealer and progressively adds a couple more tools in his criminal belt as the years go on and honestly? doesn't really see that much of a boohoo about it. yes, it's what the world expects from all munsons, yes, it's bad bad work for bad bad men but eddie can't see himself working a straight job. ever. he's not equipped for it. and, he's made peace with the fact that he'll never be a rockstar (jk no the fuck he has not he's so bitter) so he's all, might as well make the wasted years i have on this stupid earth a little more interesting. he's got a little bit of a robin hood complex going on once we meet him in his late 20s.

clear cut!steve is also a criminal albeit the smoother kind, and kind of works off a similar thing of i've never been good at anything else, so this might as well be my career. except for steve, it's banking on how far he can get with that tireless, bottomless, all-consuming harrington charm. working in insurance, or whatever the fuck his father did, never quite scratched the itch of bold faced robbery that... well, robbery did. it's funny, though. steve's never had the aspirations towards grandeur that his fellow thieves have had, because he knows what it's like to grow up in a cushy rich household. steve's just doing it for the thrill of fooling everybody. and he is, by the way. fooling everybody. even you. remember that.

9. HUMILIATING MEMORIES

hellfire and ice!eddie, like.... do you mean his entire life up to this point and actually, beyond. he once got so unbelievably fucking stoned that he thought calling a phone sex line was a good idea but then once the sexy operator lady picked up, he got so freaked out that he could only talk in fozzie bear voice and he couldn't drop the bit for 20 minutes. fun conversation with wayne about that phone bill. he's also written so much bad poetry, so many embarrassing near-self insert stories (one of us, one of us) where he romances many a comely elfin lady. he once slipped one of these stories into chess club captain martha peterson's locker in freshman year as, like, an effort at wooing her but then he got pulled into the fucking guidance counselor's office because she said he was stalking him.

old hollywood!steve... again. regrets. humiliations. he has a few. one could be punching bela lugosi out after a stage production of dracula because he thought he was a real vampire (drunk). another could be punching out an extra on the set of the merry widow in 1925 because he was sniffing around mae murray, who steve was also sniffing around at the time (jilted). steve was replaced by 'that rodent-voiced bastard john gilbert' and the extra he clocked? none other than clark gable. among other embarrassments; not securing a finalized divorce from his first wife before he married his second (drunk), the time he fully pissed his pants when buster keaton played a prank on him during a seance (stoned), getting caught wailing for a second chance outside joan crawford's room at the garden of alla hotel (that woman was inside having lesbian sex).

18. THINGS THEY'LL NEVER ADMIT

old hollywood!eddie knows his entire career is based on fluke, but he's too embarrassed to nurture his real talent, which is writing. to be honest, he does stunts because he kind of has a death wish. not being able to express himself was killing him, but he was always too full of piss and vinegar and cowardice to kill himself. but now people see him, or what the studios have made of him, and it's glorious and horrifying and naked and fake and full of possibility that he's too scared to touch.

hellfire & ice/burning up & burning out!steve (moreso sequel relevant, but) has always thought lacy was a fucking weirdo honestly and blames lacy for nancy pulling away from him during his senior year, not like nancy becoming a person was a factor or anything... until they're older and steve and lacy grow increasingly fond of each other. he wishes he took the job that his dad laid out for him on a silver platter sometimes and married someone stable, like tina or whoever. steve's increasingly more anxious socially as he ages, knowing that most people see him as some kind of joke, but he has to put on the face and be the guy, whatever that means to him in 1994. he's terrified that he's built his life around constructs that are flimsy; being independent from his family, following a path when he's not sure of himself as a person, desperately trying to make the thing with nancy work when she's there because he's familiar and he's there because he's afraid.

#powder room talk #slowdancer #e. munson by powder #s. harrington by powder #hai brainrot #clear cut #bubo #burn like nitrate

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bubblewrapjunkie · 3 years

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i swore i wasn’t gonna do this but this whole website is full of confused clowns who has never had a grown up relationship in their life so here we go.

the majority of the posts about john mulaney and olivia munn expecting a child fall into a very weird pattern. the tone is basically “oh so your parasocial crush john mulaney disappointed you boohoo what have we learned now?”, the moral of the story being that you shouldn’t idealize famous people. fair enough, that’s a a reasonable point to make on its own. the problem arise when you apply that particular lesson to this particular situation because here’s the kicker: he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“but he left his wife!! he said he was in love with her and then he left and he got a new girlfriend and now they’re having a kid even though he said he didn’t want kids!!”. none of this is morally wrong. if he wasn’t in love with his wife anymore, he did the right thing by divorcing her. if he fell in love with another person and wanted to be with her, he did the right thing by doing so. it’s that easy.

sometimes tumblr seems to operate under the assumption that whenever another person is hurt, it must mean that someone else did something wrong, something vicious and most importantly, with mailce. that’s not how interpersonal relationships work. people fall in love, fall out of love, divorce, want different things in life with different people without ever being morally wrong. that means things can get messy and people can get hurt and hearts can be broken without villains, without ill intent. we are human beings with human feelings and it is impossible to live a life in which you’ll never hurt anyone else.

the problem isn’t (for now) that people put john mulaney on a pedestal - the problem is that people seem to genuinely think that getting a divorce is reason enough for someone to fall from said pedestal?? i don’t want to make this about purity culture, but i find it somewhat telling that the same website that was ready to fully cancel jeff goldblum for marrying a very much grown up woman (31) simply because of an age gap also seems to have “trouble” with john’s “choices”. not to be all go out and touch some grass on main, but please believe me when i say that you can fall out of love with someone and feel bad about it and still leave them in the end because that’s simply how life works.

#john mulaney

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moviesstoriesandbooks · 2 years

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Things about Not me series episode 1

1) I'm glad Gun is getting to explore and experiment. He's a really good actor and we're gonna swoon when we'll get to see him as Black.

2) The child actors were wonderful. I don't know if they've acted before or not , but they looked like they knew what they were doing , experienced.

3) I have never felt actual dangerous vibes or even anger from P'Off onscreen i think. The only time i think I've seen him hit anyone is that one time in season 2 of puppy honey. He was an asshole in some of the series , but he never seemed violent. Even from the picture they showed of him

This one , he kinda looked ... capable of arson? Not exactly violent but , he looks on edge of violence. He was gonna slap white. There was genuine fear in his eyes. But then he rolled around on the floor and squishes gun's cheekies and i was like , maybe we're gonna get to see his soft side later on like this and lose our goddamn minds . What if it's going to be White who's gonna peel off the tough exterior and show us the puppy beneath? I'm gonna be so so UGHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGXTYG

4) white hair. Hawt. I think he's such a hottie. 🥺

5) Lot of people are now being hard on the mum . But i have a feeling that she's also on the activist side of things and maybe that's why the divorce happened?? And each get one child , but how did that work? I'm not clear on the thai laws on how that works . But if Black stayed with his mum like White stayed with his dad , won't he have walked in her path just like White chose to do with his dad ? I dunno , I'd like to see the mum again , her explaining the reaction by the pool coz , if it had been my children, I'd be making sure they got a warm blanket atleast.

5) Nepotism. Made me uncomfortable , the dad looks waayyy too comfortable in doing it that way. White wasn't complaining too. We're gonna soon see him get radicalised , i hope. can't wait.

6) i haven't read the novel, but i think he's gonna join the gang in their arson endeavours once they explain shit to him , or after he finds out on his own. Or maybe black tells him everything after waking up. I don't know .

7) None of them look like actual criminals , more like college students (seniors?) who are tough , but not strong. If someone with power tries hard enough , they'll all be dead. That's the vibe I'm getting. Anonymity is their best shield and they're trying their best to maintain it as it is

8) Also people were saying how the tatoos and piercing takes some time to heal. But... according to his gang wasn't Black missing for a few days? White got sick when Black was beaten up , went to the hospital and got a call when he was at the hospital. Which could mean that he took maybe 3 days to prepare for the gang to notice his absence?? I dunno. I'm just saying how it happened in my head to make sense of it all. But do tattoos heal in 3-4 days? But still , his preparations aren't all that.

9) which brings me to the next thought. White has been living in luxury his whole life. And looking at Black he doesn't look like that? And comfortable people have no reason to look at the struggles of the common people. We're gonna witness him (white) study about why the gang is the way they are , what Black did till now to help them and use his diplomatic skills to maybe trap the businessman who is actually the Big Bad ™️. I really hope he does this after he reveals to everyone that he's in fact White and not Black.

10) I also hope that once Black gets better , he takes on White's role as the diplomat in training coz if someone doesn't do that job , won't his dad and his collegues get notified????? Like ??? And Black could learn the ropes about how they resolve conflicts too. Which may help them too , in the long run?? Also it's not such a physical job so he can regain his strength while still contributing to the operation.

11) Also why didn't the dad or the mum notice?? Black is in the ICU. White got piercings and tatoos. Went to college instead of Black. Is the mother dead??

#not me series #NOT ME SERIES #offgun #off jumpol #gun attaphan #mond #gmmtv #bl series #thai bl series #asian lgbtq dramas #thailand #thai boy love drama #thai boys love series #asian drama #thai drama

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helenazbmrskai · 3 years

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Las(t) Vegas Ring [Teaser]

I didn’t forget about this story guys I’m working on it and while you wait I thought it would be nice to give you a teaser, also if you want to get tagged when I release it feel free to tell me and lastly, thank you for anticipating my fic!

Title Las(t) Vegas Ring [one shot; teaser]

Pairing Namjoon x Reader

Genre angst, crack/humour, romance, got married in las vegas au, newly established relationship, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers

Summary Attending your sister’s wedding in Las Vegas helps you cross out two things on your bucket list, first you got to visit Las Vegas so you know you’re in for a wild night and two, you always wanted to get married yourself even if the circumstances are not so favourable. (or.) You wake up next to your sister’s husband’s best man naked and with a ring on your destinated finger and not only did you get married and have no recollection of such a thing but you took his virginity too.

Warning(s) nothing for the teaser

Word count 1.28k (10k in total)

Teaser release date 2021.05.30

Masterlist

”So you’re telling me that you not only got married to the Kim Namjoon from Kim corp. but took his virginity?” Sohyun wheezes once you tell her the news that caused you intense headaches ever since you woke up in the same bed as your sister’s husband’s best man. The headaches started partly from the extreme hungover that morning but the better part was because of this new arrangement that you can’t quite wrap your head around just yet. This stranger that you only just met at your sister’s wedding for the first time now suddenly become your lawfully right husband.

You always wanted to get married and have kids of your own but this is not how you imagined meeting your husband. It’s less than 48 hours that you set your eyes on his dirty blond hair and charming dimples under the shady nightclub’s sparking lights and now, suddenly you two are husband and wife in front of the law and on top of that, he’s the Ceo of Kim Corp. the head of the biggest car import business in the entire industry that makes things even more complicated. Not that it wasn’t before that.

You heard crazy stories before from friends who let loose in Las Vegas but you always thought you would never drink that much to let it cloud your rightful judgement skills. They might have gotten arrested for public indecency but at least they are not married to a multimillionaire who despises their whole being after they just literally met. A part of you can’t even blame him because, this is straight-up crazy, waking up with a band around your destined finger was a huge shock, to say the least. Almost resembling a picture-perfect scene you see in your favourite K-dramas.

He tries to put all the blame on you even though it’s clear that marriage requires two signatures to become legalized and as far as you remember you didn’t make him drink shots after shots at the party.

It isn’t your fault that he got blackout drunk and married you on a whim. You’re not saying that this is not crazy, and it’s still hard to completely wrap your head around the consequences but he took his part in it as much as your drunk ass did. So you think this silent treatment on his end is rather childish for someone who operates a whole blooming business even though you heard that his father still supervises his work. He acts like a kid throwing a tantrum over lost candy and you’re getting tired of talking to his secretary that always tells you he’s busy or out of the office magically when you want to reach him. It supposed to be easy to clear up – you just need to file for divorce and everything can go back to where it was before in your very normal and mundane life.

She starts slapping her highs under the chair cloth but then she sees the elegant bend around your fourth finger on your left hand. You’re not sure why you haven’t taken it off yet, considering that your husband refuses to see you. Maybe it has to do with the busy life that you need to get a hang of again after your getaway trip and everything’s a little fresh in your mind. Las Vegas was beautiful and adapting back to your normal life seems to be harder than you first thought it will be.

Sohyun squeals like you didn’t tell her just now you got married in Las Vegas and grabs your hand like she intends to dislocate your shoulder with the sheer force of her pull. It’s a great temptation to let her hair sit with the bleach on but you don’t own this salon and you need to save money for the lawsuit that’s probably going your way very soon after you married Kim Namjoon –against his will as he put it.

However, no one seemed to consider how you felt about this whole ordeal. The last day spent in Las Vegas was a shitshow with thrown accusations and bad blood between the two families as they argued who should be the one to blame when it truly is something that should be only discussed between you and him. It’s your life, your business after all. You only just got married but you’re here to get the divorce process going, just thinking about Namjoon’s glare gives you a massive headache and shivers. This is not at all how you imagined your life. Not to say your married life. Call you a hopeless romantic but you always imagined your husband to be someone simple and caring, who would make you breakfast in bed and kiss you goodnight. Someone that you love and can rely on when you’re having a bad day and vice versa, just simple things like that. It shouldn’t be too much to ask.

”What exactly happened in Las Vegas? Tell me everything and don’t let any detail out. I need to know every little thing that you can remember.”

You snort at her clear enthusiasm, you would like to know every little detail yourself but the problem is, you have absolutely no idea how this happened in the first place. As much as you can recall from your foggy memories you didn’t even go near him – there’s was no reason to – as you two were strangers who so happened to learn each other’s names because he was your sister’s husband’s best man and sat next to each other at the wedding it’s natural that you at least learned his name but how you two ended up together in a church to get married is beyond your imagination. It’s on the top of the list of the few crazy things that you’ve ever done in your life and it had to be him that you knot the ties with.

It’s been a full week after the plane landing and getting back in Seoul and the memory of that night seems to be lost forever in the depths of your brain or maybe none of them registered there. You had no idea before this trip that you are capable of being that shit faced to the extent that you forget most parts of your wildest night with the richest person that you know exists. Waking up in his hotel room and seeing your clothes on the floor came as a huge shock and when he accused you of forcing him into sex. It was one of the most stressful experiences in your life and none of you could remember what happened. Even a casino dept would have been better at least you can make money but you can’t give back his virginity that you don’t even remember taking.

Namjoon wasn’t subtle about showing his distaste for the situation first thing in the morning and barely letting you put on your clothes before he kicked you out. It was intense as both of you yelled at each other he was immensely rude but you felt a little bad when he admitted it was his first time sleeping with someone.

In your opinion virginity was never something that you cared much about but it seemed like that he cared about it a lot. He probably didn’t intend for you to hear it but the overbearing silence that took over the room let you hear every anxious breath and frustrated hair pull. Not remembering the night that he lost his virginity, you can sympathise with that part but it doesn’t justify his behaviour towards you when you’re as confused as he is. Burying his face into the sand won’t solve his problems.

taglist: @hearteuforjoonie, @jooahchu, @xyahrinx, @baby-noodles, (I hope I got everyone!)

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cherienymphe · 4 years

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Protect & Serve III (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, mentions of abuse, violence, STALKING, HARASSMENT, eventual KIDNAPPING/NON-CON

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

The man behind the counter welcomed you with a warm smile as you approached. Maybe he could sense your uneasiness as you hesitantly placed your hands on the counter, looking at him with a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you quietly greeted. “Um… I need a gun.”

The brunette chuckled, blue eyes filled with mirth as he eyed you.

“No kidding,” he replied, gesturing around to the rest of the gun and hunting and supplies store.

“Right,” you chuckled. “I just… I need something small and easy to handle.”

You bit your lip, and his face slowly grew solemn as he ran his eyes over you.

“You don’t look like a hunting kind of gal,” he quietly insinuated.

You shook your head.

“No.”

He nodded in understanding before inhaling as he straightened, turning to eye the wall behind him. He paced, eyes roaming over the assortment of guns, and you took the time to look around. Never in your life did you imagine yourself in a place like this, but you were tired of being a sitting duck in someone else’s twisted games. You’d been through that once already…

“Here…”

You turned, eyes falling to the small gun in his hand as he neared the counter again. It was small enough to throw into your purse or hide in your car, whenever you got a license, and it looked easy enough to operate. It was perfect.

“I want this one,” you told him.

“Figured you would. It’s a Ruger LC9. It’s a 9mm caliber semi-automatic. Super simple to operate and will still get the job done,” he murmured.

He showed you how to load it, turning the magazine over and going over its features. You nodded as you followed along and grabbed your wallet without hesitation. He eyed you again as he took your cash.

“You talk to the police?”

“For what?” you wondered.

“For whatever’s got a girl like you buying a gun on a Monday morning,” he explained.

You sighed.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to them, but since no crime has been committed, there isn’t much they can do. I refuse to just sit around and wait for someone to hurt me. I’m done with that,” you told him.

He nodded and stuck his hand out.

“The name’s Clint. If you have any questions or…need to come back here, you know how to find me.”

You shook his hand and threw him a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

The weapon felt so heavy in your purse, and even though the safety was on, you were careful in placing the bag in your car. The ride home was spent stewing over your thoughts. There was too much that you had to consider, and instead of spending the rest of the summer making lesson plans for when school started back, you were worrying about some stranger stalking your house at night.

Here you were doing the cops’ job for them.

That thought drew your mind to Officer Rogers, and you clenched your jaw. There was a time when you gave people the benefit of the doubt, but after your marriage, you couldn’t afford to do that anymore. How glad you were to be wary of the blond cop from the beginning.

His behavior had officially crossed questionable and dove straight into terrifying. You feared to imagine what would have happened had you accepted his proposal for dinner. You didn’t understand his behavior…not one bit. Was he punishing you for turning him down? Surely, that couldn’t be it. It seemed so…silly. Childish even.

Wanda had stated that just about every woman in town had been trying to lock down the man since he moved here. You could believe it. You’d have to be hard of seeing to deny how attractive he was, and coupled with his profession, you could definitely see why he was popular with the women in town. He was a seemingly kind man with the face of an angel, sworn to protect those in need. He was like something out of a cheesy romance novel.

You knew better though.

You’d been on the receiving end of his gaslighting tactics, his nicely veiled threats, and his wandering hands. The real kicker about his behavior though, was that he hadn’t done anything concrete enough to go to anyone with. None of what he did was objectively outright enough to report him with. Wanda had already asked you if you’d misunderstood his quip about your past abuse. You could just imagine anyone else’s face when you told them of how he brushed your waist and held your hand. ‘Oh, the horror!’ they’d say.

You hid your gun in your nightstand as soon as you got inside of your house. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to use it. You’d never been the type to resort to violence, but your ex-husband had changed all of that. If the cops wouldn’t do their job and protect you, without an incentive, then you’d do it yourself.

Hours later, you did just that.

You were half asleep anyway, having been going in and out of consciousness all night. The noise had come from the front of your yard this time, and you peeled your eyes open, slowly blinking as you heard it again. You had swiftly flicked the switch on your lamp and slipped your hand into your drawer to grab the weapon you’d bought.

You licked your lips, slowly sitting up. You looked down, making sure that the safety was off just before exiting your room. It was quiet outside as you quietly crept downstairs. You felt silly, standing in your living room in your oversized t-shirt, both hands on this toy-sized gun. You glanced at all of the windows, and when you didn’t see anything, you crept into the kitchen.

The silence made you nervous because you knew he was still out there. You turned towards the window and didn’t see anyone through the curtain. You weren’t convinced though, and you remained still. Sure enough, a bulky silhouette came into view as they glided past the kitchen. With wide eyes, you raised your arms, the gunshot making your ears ring as glass shattered.

You watched as he clutched his arm before taking off, a deep grunt traveling through the broken window. Hurriedly, you ran after him, throwing the door open before sprinting outside. Your yard was empty, and you had your gun raised before you as you paced the yard, spinning around. It was quiet…empty of anyone else it seemed.

They were gone, but fortunately, you knew that you’d hit them. You were just about to lower your weapon when you had a thought. With wide eyes, you ran back into the house. You were quick in grabbing your phone from upstairs before sprinting back outside. You turned the flashlight on as you neared the grass just below your window.

There, before you, were a few spots of blood, and hope bloomed in your chest. You let out a chuckle, feeling confident for the first time in a while. You put the safety back on the gun and laid it on the kitchen counter as soon as you were back inside. You grabbed a paper towel, stepping back out into the cool night air. You were wiping up the blood with the napkin when red and blue flashes suddenly filled your vision.

You stood and turned, watching as a police cruiser parked along your curb. The cop who stepped out was familiar to you, but it wasn’t the last person you wanted to see. Bucky strode across your yard to approach you, a less than enthusiastic look on his face.

“We got a call about gunshots. They listed your residence as the source,” he said as soon as he was close enough.

Your lips parted, and you glanced away. The blue-eyed man sighed at that.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he admonished.

“What other choice did I have? None of you can do anything until I get hurt, and why would I wait around for that? The state doesn’t require a license to keep one on my property. It was self-defense,” you defended.

He frowned at that, running his eyes over you, alarmed.

“What was self-defense?” he slowly questioned.

You shoved the napkin at him, and his eyes widened.

“I shot him…Officer Barnes. I know I did! I got him in the arm, and now you have his blood, his DNA! You can test it, see if there’s a match in the system-.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, attempting to calm you down.

You hadn’t realized that you were talking so fast, and you apologized.

“Here,” you said, turning to walk into your house.

He followed you, watching as you put the bloody napkin into a Ziplock bag before handing it to him. He gingerly took it, eyeing it before heaving a sigh.

“Well…the evidence is pretty damning. We’ll test it as soon as possible,” he eventually said.

Sighing in relief, you nodded. You watched as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, and it struck you how much like Steve’s they were.

“Ms. Y/L/N…is there anyone who’d want to hurt you? Anyone at all?”

You opened your mouth to reply in the negative when you suddenly froze. Familiar blond hair and blue eyes came to mind, and you blinked, a realization falling over you.

“Killian,” you murmured as if just remembering him.

“Sorry?”

You shook your head, eyes meeting Bucky’s again.

“M-my ex-husband. He’s the only one I can think of…”

“I assume it ended badly?”

“That’s an understatement,” you scoffed. “He was advised by his lawyers to go through with the divorce when I filed. It wasn’t his choice, at all, but it was in his best interest.”

The other man simply stared at you.

“He wasn’t…a good man. Not at all. I wish I could say all of it was verbal and psychological, but I had no choice but to come clean when I landed in the hospital. It wasn’t looking good for him and refusing to go through with the divorce would make him look worse,” you explained.

Bucky sharply inhaled, nodding.

“I see…”

“I…can’t believe that I’d never considered him before. He has money, but I’d never thought he’d find me so quickly,” you murmured.

Bucky made his way to the door, and you followed.

“I’ll get this down to the station. You be careful with that gun,” he advised, and you nodded. “Have a good night.”

And for the first time in weeks, you did.

“You look well rested,” Wanda complimented, bringing your plate to you.

You returned her smile with a genuine one of your own.

“I feel well rested. Hopeful, actually,” you replied.

“That’s good! So I take it things are a lot better at your place, now?”

“They will be,” you cheerily said, digging into your food.

“I’m glad to hear it, and what great timing too. It seems like Steve might be out of commission for a few days,” she told you. “So, it won’t be him responding to any 911 calls.”

You blinked up at her. You couldn’t care less about the blond cop in any way, and the information actually filled you with relief, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“Why?”

“He was shot,” was her simple response.

However, it made you feel anything but simple. You almost dropped your fork as you eyed her, brows furrowing as your heart dropped to your stomach.

“…what?”

“Yeah, in the arm…”

It felt like someone took a knife to your chest.

“…the word is that he was involved in a hunting accident.”

You forced yourself to swallow, mind whirling.

“When?”

She hummed, thinking.

“The day before yesterday, I believe,” she answered.

You wanted to be relieved at that, that it wasn’t last night, but…it all seemed too coincidental. No…there was no way. The thought alone made you want to be sick.

“How…awful,” you whispered.

“I know,” she pouted. “I’m baking him a cake tonight. Figured I’d head up to his house to deliver it to him.”

You pressed your lips together, trying, and failing, to talk yourself out of what you were about to do. You knew that you were paranoid, you’d never deny that, but you owed it to yourself. If only to quell your fears. You had to see…

“Uh…when are you heading over?”

“Probably in the morning,” she said just before welcoming some customers in.

“Can I come with? I’d like to check in on him too…”

She looked at you with a sly smile, and you grimaced.

“Growing on you, is he?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed. “It’s just… He’s always entertaining my concerns, responding to every call I’ve made. I feel like the least I can do is check on him, you know?”

She nodded, buying your lie.

“That’s really sweet of you. I’ll swing by your house around 8,” she said. “He lives pretty far out, so it’ll take about 45 minutes to get there.”

You nodded, and she left to go deal with some customers.

You swallowed, appetite lost, and you pushed your plate away. Your paranoia was really getting the best of you because a part of you actually believed that the person you shot last night was Officer Rogers. It was the most outlandish thing to think. The man was an officer of the law, and even though he proved that he didn’t deserve that title, there was a pretty big gap in between some creepy touches and a full-blown stalker.

You knew how it would sound if you voiced your fears to Wanda. People hunted around here all the time, hunting cabins forever common. It was perfectly believable, but…it seemed too coincidental. Besides, you figured there was no harm in seeing for yourself just to put your fears to rest. However, a small voice in your head wondered what you would do if you didn’t put them to rest at all, but only increased them?

What if you only confirmed your suspicions?

This plagued you all throughout the night and well into the morning when Wanda pulled into your yard. You locked up your house and hurried to her car, goosebumps rising on your flesh from the cool early morning air.

“So how far does he live?” you asked as soon as you were in the car.

“Do you remember where Dr. Banner lived before he left town?”

You nodded.

“Past that,” she replied, and you blinked.

“Why so far out?” you wondered.

“Steve likes his privacy. Plus, he’s really a nature kind of guy. Homebody too. I know our town is no New York, but even it gets a bit too much for him sometimes,” she explained.

“Being secluded in a big house with Steve Rogers, out in the woods, sounds like something most women would be interested in. He definitely strikes me as the type to want kids and the whole nine, so why hasn’t he ever taken any offers? You said it yourself that he’s had plenty…”

You were beginning to realize that you didn’t know much about this man, at all. It seemed strange that someone like him hadn’t dated anyone in 6 years. You already knew that there was definitely something wrong with him, but could there be more? Like making you feel unsafe in your own home more?

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “He did have a short thing with Peggy when he first got here-.”

“Peggy? I could see that,” you said to yourself, wondering what had happened.

Wanda answered your unspoken question.

“Yeah, it didn’t last very long though,” she sighed. “She left as soon as it ended. I never did find out what happened exactly, but she was just gone one day. House emptied of everything, and her car was gone. I guess it ended pretty badly. Steve never talks about it.”

You frowned at that. You’d known Peggy growing up, and that didn’t seem like her. Unlike you, she was never the type to just take off. But so many years had passed. Steve came to town about 4 years after you left, and a lot could happen in 4 years. People could change, and you supposed that’s what had happened.

The rest of the car ride was filled with idle talk about things that had happened in the years. Wanda told you about her boyfriend, Vis. He’d move here about two years ago, and he apparently made her very happy. She’d been lonely ever since her brother Pietro had moved away not long after you did, and Vis apparently made her smile more.

Eventually the topic somehow came back to Steve...and Bucky and Sam.

“His name is James, but everyone calls him Bucky. Him and Sam were roommates in college and just remained that way ever since. They both moved down here about…4 years ago? They’re all like 3 peas in a pod, like brothers…”

Sam was Officer Wilson. You’d seen him in passing a few times, usually with Bucky. He seemed nice enough.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one, or both, of them was up here already,” she said, taking a left into the trees.

The driveway was paved and long, curving every which way before it eventually straightened out. You realized that the car was going up an incline, and thick trees surrounded you on both sides. When Wanda said that he liked his privacy, she wasn’t exaggerating. The seclusion of it all could be considered peaceful if you ignored who lived here.

She pulled up in front of a nice two-story house, the light blue paint standing out amongst the dark trees. You had the small cake in one hand while you closed the car door with the other. You admired the scenery as you followed her. It was beautiful, there was no denying that, but the battered woman in you couldn’t help but to think how easy it would be to get away with anything. If you screamed, nobody would hear you.

You followed her around the side of the house towards the back deck, and with a start, you realized that the hill that the house sat on led down to a rather large lake. Fog hovered over the water in the early morning, and your lips parted at the sight, eyes running over the thick trees on the other side.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

“He had it built before he officially moved down here. I don’t blame him for spending all of his free time at home. Who’d want to leave this?”

She knocked on the backdoor, and your nerves spiked as you realized that you would soon be coming face to face with the erasure of your fears…or something that would only worsen them. It took a few minutes before you heard him approaching the door. A greeting was already on his lips when he opened it, but it died when his eyes landed on you.

“Wanda…and Ms. Y/L/N. Come on in,” he greeted, stepping back.

“Hey, Steve. I wanted to bring that cake by before I had to go to work,” she said with a smile.

You followed her inside and shuddered when your shoulder grazed Steve’s chest.

“Y/N wanted to check on you too, make sure you’re alright,” Wanda added.

You looked at him with a small smile, noticing the long-sleeved shirt he had on.

“It’s the least I can do after responding to all of my calls,” you told him.

He returned the smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I appreciate that,” he whispered. “You can just put it on the counter.”

He gestured to the kitchen, with his right arm you noted, and you followed his instruction. You could hear him and Wanda talking in the living room while you slid the plate on the granite countertop. You glanced around, noting how homey it looked. You weren’t sure why that surprised you.

“Rough night?” you heard Wanda ask him as soon as you reentered the living room

Your eyes followed as she gestured to the several empty beer cans on the tv stand. Steve chuckled, placing his right hand on his hip, the left hanging limply at his side.

“Hardly. Sam and Buck came by last night. We just got into a few beers, watching some game that was on,” he replied.

You licked your lips.

“How’s your arm? Wanda told me it was a hunting accident…”

His gaze met yours, and the corner of his lip quirked up into a small smirk. He gestured to his arm, his left one, and relief filled you as he spoke.

“Yeah, Sam and I got a little careless out there. It’s just a graze, but nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” he responded.

Wanda chuckled at that while you fought not to sneer. You were just thankful that you’d put your fears to bed. The man you’d shot last night, you’d gotten him in his right arm. Steve was injured in his left, and you allowed yourself to breathe now.

“Can I use your bathroom?” you suddenly asked him.

“Yeah, sure! Just down the hall there,” he told you, gesturing behind him.

You thanked him and walked past him, Wanda’s voice reaching your ears as she asked him something. You went for the first door on your right, hand on the handle, when you were startled by a presence.

You looked up as Steve placed his hand on the small of your back, eyes widening as he pushed you along. His fingers pressed into your waist, and you shrunk in on yourself, a frown covering your features at his close proximity.

“Not that one,” he quietly told you. “That’s the basement.”

Your eyes met his now, and you quickly looked away at the intensity there.

“This one’s the bathroom,” he continued, opening a door, and flicking on the light for you.

You murmured a quiet ‘thanks’, flinching when he squeezed your hip one last time before returning to the living room. Your jaw clenched. He may not have been a stalker, but he was still a creep.

“I... I don’t understand. How long does it take to test some blood?”

The policewoman before you pursed her lips, arms resting on her desk.

“It can take up to a few days-.”

“Which it has been.”

“Yes, but the sample has to be sent to a lab, and we have to wait for the results,” she explained. “I understand your concern…”

“Do you?” you mumbled.

She chuckled, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I do. Why do you think I have the job I have anyway? I like being able to protect myself and other people,” she told you. “There was a time when I wasn’t able to…”

You sighed, glancing around the busy station. It was empty of a certain blond cop, and you were happy.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re also a woman, so there’s no doubt that you definitely understand what I’m feeling. I just…I have to know who this person is. I don’t feel safe in my own house.”

“I know,” she replied. “Steve talks about you a lot.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, face falling.

“…he does?”

She hummed.

“He wishes that he could do more,” she said. “He worries about you. Of course, with this blood sample, I imagine he’ll be doing a lot more worrying. This is proof that someone is out there every night, messing with you.”

“Do you think this will be enough to convince your boss to let someone stakeout my house?”

She mulled it over, humming.

“You know what? It might be. I’ll definitely bring it up,” she replied, and hope bloomed within you.

You fidgeted in your seat, worrying your lip, and she frowned.

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” she asked.

Her tone of voice told you that she knew you did, so you figured it was best to just come right out and say it.

“If you are able to get someone to watch my house at night…can it not be Officer Rogers?”

Her frown deepened, and she ran her eyes over you. She leaned in, a red strand grazing the side of her face as she studied.

“Now why would you request that?”

You didn’t feel like you had a valid reason to give her, not one that she’d believe anyway. Steve was a town favorite, so you had to come up with something that would make her listen to you.

“You and Officer Rogers are friends, right? You care about him?”

“Of course,” she said, urging you to continue.

“I know that he worries about me, and that’s why I think someone else should be assigned to this. If it gets approved, of course. I just worry that lines may start to blur…”

She straightened up at that.

“How do you mean?”

You let out a soft sigh.

“He did ask me to dinner a while back, and seeing as I only recently got divorced, I refused. I’m just not ready, and I know that he understands and has no problem waiting, but…”

You chuckled.

“He’s just so sweet. I still feel so bad about it, and I don’t want to make this any harder on him. Until I’m ready, I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I think it’d be best for everyone if an objective pair of eyes were on this. Especially for his sake…”

She hummed, nodding in understanding.

“No, Ms. Y/L/N, that’s perfectly reasonable. I’m glad to hear that Steve is finally trying to get back into the dating pool though,” she said, standing, and you followed her lead. “It took him long enough.”

You simply threw her a smile.

“Well, thank you for listening to me, and please, call me as soon as those lab results come back.”

“I will,” she promised.

Your shoulders felt lighter as you stepped out of the police station. Soon, you could find out who was tormenting you and they’d be locked up. In addition, you wouldn’t have to deal with Steve for a while…or ever again. You could finally breathe again. Soon you’d have nothing at all to deal with aside from lesson plans, and bratty kids were nothing in comparison to this.

As you neared your yard, you realized, with disappointment, that you would be eating your words. A sleek black car was parked on the curb, and it took a minute for you to realize that it belonged to Steve. You’d just seen him a few days ago, so you were unsure why he was paying you a visit. Apprehension filled you as you parked.

He was already out of his car and slowly making his way towards you when you stepped out of your own. You sent him a tense smile, standing beside your driver’s door as you eyed him.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted.

“Officer Rogers.”

“I came by to thank you for the cake,” he told you.

“Oh,” you said with a frown, shaking your head. “There’s no need. Wanda made it. I just carried it in the house.”

You brushed past him, nearing your house, and you could hear him following.

“Still. It was very thoughtful of you to come by and check on me. Especially considering the night you had before…”

You paused and turned to look at him, brows furrowed. He had one foot on your steps while you stood on the porch, neat blond hair pushed away from his face.

“…sorry?”

“Bucky. He told me about what happened,” he explained.

“Ah,” you softly said.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. Wanda did say they were like brothers, after all.

“I confess that’s partially why I’m here. I wanted to see how you were fairing. That must have been terrifying for you,” he admitted, blue eyes inquiring as they drank you in.

You glanced down.

“Yeah…it was, but…I didn’t have much of a choice,” you said, looking at him. “I know you all are just doing your job, and I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but… I couldn’t just sit around and wait for someone to hurt me.”

He hummed, eyeing you.

“So do you know who it is?”

You shook your head.

“No, but I did get some of his blood. I talked to Officer Romanoff today, and she said that the lab results should be in any day, now,” you repeated what she had told you.

He nodded, making his way onto your porch now, and you stumbled back.

“Look, if you need-.”

“Officer Rogers,” you boldly interrupted, giving him pause.

His blue eyes were focused entirely on you as you swallowed, determined to put an end to this.

“Um… I have something to say…”

He straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared you down, waiting for you to continue. Your tongue darted out to swipe over your bottom lip, and you took a deep breath.

“I’ve always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Always, but…since my ex-husband, I don’t think I can really afford to do that anymore. For my own sake…”

Steve’s eyes had darkened, and you fought to hold his gaze.

“Your behavior makes me uncomfortable…and I want to say that perhaps you aren’t aware of it, but I don’t believe that. I think you know how you make me feel.”

You watched as he looked down his nose at you, jaw clenching and eyes hard, and you forced yourself to continue.

“If I offended you…or hurt you when I turned you down, that wasn’t my intention. Believe me, that was the farthest thing from my mind, and I don’t appreciate you acting so inappropriately towards me for it.”

His chest heaved with his deep breath, and you watched the way his cheek poked out, probably from his tongue. Satisfied with yourself, you took a step back.

“That’s all I had to say,” you finished, turning to go inside.

“Ms. Y/L/N, wait,” he finally spoke, reaching for your arm.

“Officer Rogers, please! I-.”

Your words were cut off by his loud grunt, pain lacing his tone. You had reached out to push him away, not liking the way he’d grabbed you. You frowned, chest clenching, feeling like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over you as you watched him clutch his arm…his right arm.

He had reached for your right arm with his right hand, and in retaliation, you’d turned and pushed your left hand against…his right arm. Realization hit you, and your eyes widened as you looked at him with different eyes. Eyes filled with a fear unlike any other you’d ever experienced.

You stumbled back, heart dropping into your stomach as his gaze finally met yours. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were already rushing inside, locking the door behind you just as his fist banged against it.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head.

He didn’t knock again, and you moved to the side, watching his silhouette through the curtains. It was getting late, the setting sun casting shadows everywhere, and feeling like you were going to be sick, you noted that the shape looked awfully familiar. He just stood there for a painful amount of time before eventually taking a step back and leaving altogether.

You placed your hand on your couch, struggling to stand. It was no use. You collapsed to the floor on your knees, taking your table and lamp with you, the fragile décor shattering upon impact with the floor. You pressed your hand to your forehead, entire body trembling as you realized what your subconscious had always suspected.

Officer Steve Rogers was the one tormenting you every night.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose

@coconutqueen21 @briannab1234 @stargazingfangirl18 @lou-la-lou @izzfizzh @thatgirly81

#dark fic #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #cop!au #cop!steve #cop au #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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casifer-is-king · 3 years

Text

Goldfish

PI!Frankie Pt. 2 (Private Investigator Frankie Morales Pt. 1)

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rating: M

Warnings: some language, sexual situations: dry humping and making out.

A/N: I can't get this these two out of my head so I just keep writing hah. It is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

Frankie is bored out of his mind - watching some high up bank employee as he sits through some shady meeting - when his phone pings.

Pollito: Today's the day. At 3pm tonight I will officially be a divorced woman. And by 9pm I will hopefully already be drunk on celebratory drinks! Are you gonna come have a shot with me??

Sorry dulzura I have to work.

Pollito: Bank dude still? You must be slipping, Mr. Morales. You've been stalking that guy for weeks now.

Please don't call it stalking woman. It's surveillance. And I'll have you know I'm about to close this one.

Pollito: Oh I don't doubt you. You're the best investigator I know XD

Frankie shakes his head with a grin. The meeting he's been watching seems to be coming to a close, so he throws some money down for the coffee he'd ordered and walks out to his truck. He looks over the information he gathered from this most recent surveillance and knows that tonight is going to be the best night to follow up on it. He just wishes he could put it off. Spending the evening celebrating with you sounds like a much better time. Especially after everything you've gone through this past month with the divorce.

In the past few weeks, the texting between the two of you had been just as constant as ever, but you had added hanging out together to the mix as well. There had been one dinner so far, which you insisted on paying for, claiming you'd never pay him back if he paid. Then there had been a couple of times you went out for drinks, but Frankie did pay for those even through your complaints that you can pay for yourself.

It was all friendly, though. Not that Frankie didn't want to move on from friendly. He just didn't want to push that move too quickly. You were already stressed enough without him adding his own shit to the mix. So he goes on being the supportive friend, ignores his growing feelings and focuses on work.

And it's a plan that works well for him up until this night.

It's almost midnight when the next text from you comes through.

Pollito: where ar youuuuuu

I'm working Pollito.

Pollito: but yo should be here drikinh with me Fishyyyyyyyyy

Sometimes Frankie really wishes he hadn't told you about his Delta call sign, but he can't help but smile down at his phone as he waited for whatever you were typing now.

Pollito: I need a ride home :(

I thought you had it covered dulzura

Pollito: nuh hh. Come get me?

Frankie bites his lip and peeks up through his windshield. A man in a suit is walking up to the door Frankie has been watching for the past hour. One more glance at the slew of little sad faced begging emojis you had just sent and Frankie was out of his truck and closing the distance to his target with long strides.

Simultaneously hitting record on his phone and pressing a forearm into the target's chest, Frankie quickly takes control of the situation. “This is being recorded. Now I want you to tell me what you and your buddies are doing here tonight?” he asked in a tone that commands an answer.

“Get off me!” the man tried to push Frankie away, but ended up being pushed harder against the building behind him.

“You tell me what I want to know and you can go on your way. Now, what are you doing here tonight?”

“I will call the cops,” the guy made one last ditch attempt. His voice was weak, though, and didn't hold near the authority he had hoped for.

“That's not going to happen,” Frankie's growled out. He glared into the target's eyes for a moment, his teeth clenching. “What's going to happen is you're going to tell me exactly what you and your pals are doing in there. In as much detail as possible.”

“Ok! It's a skim operation!” The man finally gave in. He proceeded to give Frankie everything he needed without any additional prompting from the ex-special forces soldier.

When Frankie got everything he needed, he finally let up on the target, who immediately collapsed into himself. “See, that wasn't so hard,” Frankie said. “Thanks, man. I'm sure you'll be hearing from some people soon.”

Walking away, Frankie looks down to his phone. It's been 15 minutes since your last text.

I'm on my way bonita.

〰️〰️〰️

You know that you're well past drunk when you find yourself singing Total Eclipse of the Heart at a karaoke bar, surrounded by your best friends. Said friends are just as drunk as you are after too many rounds of sickly sweet shots.

You saw him as soon as he strode into the bar. He was wearing his usual baseball cap, but tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket over a tee shirt that stretched deliciously over his chest. You locked eyes with him from the stage, then followed his broad form as he made his way to the bar. With a beer in hand, he watches you sing with a warm look in his chocolate eyes.

As soon as the song is over, you're off the stage and by his side. With a huge smile you throw your arms over his shoulders and he stoops to wrap his arms around you in return.

“I'm so glad you came, Fishy!” You yell directly into Frankie's ear.

“You look like you're having enough fun without me, Pollito. And stop calling me that” Frankie retorts, pulling away with a faux glare.

“I'll stop calling you that when you stop calling me a chicken!”

Frankie laughs outright, showing off the adorable dimple in his cheek. “I promise it's just a nickname. It's not meant to be offensive.”

You glare up at the taller man, fingers still holding onto the plush leather of his coat. He only smiles down at you, though, with a fond look in his dark eyes. “Have a shot with me!” You finally demand. “We are celebrating the fact that I'm a free woman, remember?”

Frankie indulges you with a smile as you grasp one of his large hands in yours and turn him back toward the bar. He doesn't pull away, so you take that as a good sign and lightly run your thumb down the prominent vein running down the back of said hand.

Ever since the night Frankie came and kicked your ex out for good, he had been tip-toeing around you. You were more than certain that the man felt the same about you as you did him, but he hadn't made any move to go any farther than the dinner date you took him on. But every time he'd peek the tip of his tongue out when he concentrated on something you wanted to kiss him. And whenever he'd wrap his arms around you and pull you into a friendly hug, you wanted to push him against the nearest surface and leave marks across his neck. Not to mention all the little things, like watching him drive and yearning to grab his hand in yours. Or even just sitting next to him on the couch and wishing he'd pull you closer so you could just bask in his warm existence.

But, ever the gentleman, Frankie does none of those things. He texts you all day, spends time with you when he's not busy, and lets you vent to him endlessly about your divorce. And so maybe that's where the issue lies: you were technically still a married woman and Frankie is just the kind of gentleman who wouldn't make a move on a married woman? Regardless of how separated she was from her husband.

Marriage isn't an issue anymore, though, you think happily as you and Frankie down your shots of Jameson and it's subsequent pickleback in two smooth steps. Because this was your celebration as a newly single woman! You just had to make sure Frankie was aware of this as well.

Your little Frankie bubble was invaded as your friends squish up to the bar beside you. “Oh, look who made it right as we are leaving!”

“Hello, Erin. I see you two have been taking care of her,” Frankie nods toward you with a mildly facetious smile.

“Only the best divorce party for our best friend!” Ashley cheers, sloppily throwing her arms around your neck. “But our Uber is here, so it's time to pack it up.”

You can almost feel Frankie's eyes squinting at you as you turn to your friends. Oops. So maybe you had exaggerated just a little bit to convince Frankie to show up tonight. But it was worth it now that he was here. “Actually, Frankie's gonna take me home.”

Erin and Ashley exchange looks and you know, even in your drunken daze, that is time to usher them out to their waiting ride. “Come on, loves, your car won't wait forever.”

After long winded goodbyes, multiple hugs and some empty promises from Ashley that you would all get lunch the next day, you finally packed your friends into their Uber.

“Ready to go, too, cariño?” Frankie asked, looking down into your eyes.

Your head tilted to the side. This was a pet name he had not called you before. You are about to ask about it, but suddenly his large hand is covering the span of your lower back and warmth is radiating from that spot straight into your belly. With a dreamy nod, you allow Frankie to lead you across the lot to his truck. He gently lifts you into the passenger seat and his full torso covers you momentarily as he leans across to buckle you in securely.

You're struck, in this moment, by the realization of how broad this man's shoulders are. Of course, it's not something that you can miss; but in this moment, warmed by his body covering yours, he seems broader than ever. Shoulders leading to strong arms, ending with those hands. It was obvious that Frankie was accustomed to working with his hands, with long, thick fingers calloused from engine work and handling guns. But it's the little things about Frankie's hands that always captured your attention. The way they twitched when he was feeling anxious, always looking for the first thing he could to occupy them. He'd caress the table beneath his fingers, following every groove over and over again. Or when he tapped along to the music on the radio as he drove and his fingers would flex, showing off all of his tendons.

You're brought out of your thoughts when one of those fingers reaches up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. He's still close. Close enough that it wouldn't take much effort to just lean forward and place your lips on his.

But in the next instant he's retreating, shooting you a wink as he closes the door and jogs over to the drivers side.

“Did you get the guy?” You asked once Frankie had pulled away from the bar. “The one you've been watching.”

“Of course I did,” he drawls. “I'm the best, remember?”

“I am certain that's not what I said,” you laughed.

“That's what I remember you saying.”

You laugh at him, enjoying how his deep laugh harmonizes with yours, enjoying the moment with him. You wish you could drag this moment on, you think blearily. But soon enough he's parked outside your new condo and gently helping you up to your front door.

“Stay,” you whisper as Frankie fights to get your door unlocked while also dealing with you draped all over him. He grunts, just a general signal that he heard you speak, but he doesn't answer your request.

He's depositing you onto your couch when you say it again, more forceful, “Frankie. Stay with me.” You're grasping at the sleeve of his coat, both hands attempting to pull him down with you.

Frankie freezes, suddenly a statue in the middle of your living room. Seeing that you aren't going to be able to make the man budge by pulling him down, you relent your grip and move on to pouting up at him.

“Not a good idea, cariño. Not tonight and not like this.” He sounds just a little bit regretful. So you latch onto that and double down on the pouting.

“I want you to Frankie. Want you to stay here and kiss me and touch me with your pretty hands.”

Frankie groans in a way that makes you feel like you've won, but instead he takes a full step back and pulls off his hat to run his hands through his hair. The curls are messy, but they look so soft and you want to touch them desperately.

The next thing you know, you're standing in front of him and Frankie's hands are curled gently around your wrists as he's pushing you back at arm's length. “Dulzura, it is time for you to go to bed.”

You frown and whine, “don't wanna go to bed.”

“Goodnight, cariño,” was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep under your warm blankets.

Frankie 🐟: The guys are doing an early bbq then the fight is tonight.

You pick up your phone to read the text as it pings a second time.

Frankie 🐟: You're still coming right??

Of course! What time should I be ready?

Frankie 🐟: I'll be there around 3.

Sounds good. See you then!

Frankie is there at 2:47pm. It's the first time you've seen him since the day of your divorce just a week ago. You aren't exactly ready, but he only stands around impatiently for 10 minutes before you are finally out the door. The drive is across town, and 20 minutes later Frankie is pulling up to a nice little house in an equally nice neighborhood.

Frankie walks into the house without knocking, leading you through to the back door. In the back yard a group of guys are standing around a grill, two of them with beers in their hands and one with a water bottle.

“Hey! Look who finally made it!” One of the guys calls out as he sees you and Frankie approaching. A wide smile graces his handsome features.

“Hey guys,” Frankie greets, “Sorry we're late. Someone wasn't ready when they said they'd be.” Frankie ignores your huff in liew of introducing you to his friends.

You shake each man's hand, trying to match faces to names you already know: Santiago with his dark eyes, stubbled jaw and curly hair; Benny is the one with the wide smile and crystal blue eyes; and Will who's eyes match Benny's, but who has blonde hair and a beard that enhances his chiseled jawline perfectly.

“I've heard so much about you all.” It's a cliché line, but it's the truth. Frankie talks about these guys more often than he talks about himself.

“Want a beer, dulzura?” Frankie asks. When you nod he turns back to the house.

“So we finally get to meet Frankie's new best friend,” Santiago turns to you with a smile. “You and Catfish have known each other…. How long now?”

“One month, two weeks and four days,” Will pipes up from your left.

Before you can even comment on the absurdity of him just knowing that, Santiago is already going on. “Exactly! And we are only just now meeting you?! It seems a shame that Cat would keep such a niña bonita from us!”

“You know how possessive Fish can be, Pope,” Benny cuts in. “I'm surprised he didn't wait another one month, two weeks and however many days.”

The guys laugh and you join in, though yours is definitely more confused than anything. “I don't think that's it,” you reply. “Just timing hasn't matched up, ya know? But I'm glad things worked out tonight. I'm excited to see your fight, Benny. Frankie talks a lot about y'alls training.”

Frankie appears by your side again, handing you your beer bottle and casually draping an arm over your shoulders. “Ben's gonna do great tonight. He's put in a lot of work for this one and he's gonna leave that ring the champ.”

“I always leave the ring a champion,” Benny puffs up.

“Except when you get the shit kicked out of you,” Santiago says, feinting a jab to Benny's torso which leads to Benny grabbing Santiago in a headlock.

Will gives an exasperated eye roll and he and Frankie begin to drift over to the smoking grill in tandem, you being pulled along with them from under Frankie's arm. “You really thinking he's got this one?” Will asks as he opens the grill to check on the food inside.

“No doubt. He really has put the work in, and we've been working on taking advantage of Thompson’s weaknesses. Benny's the better fighter between the two anyway, so this one is a no brainer,” Frankie replies with confidence.

Will seems convinced by this and nods. “Good. He needs this win.”

They leave it at that as Benny and Santiago make their way over, still pushing at each other and laughing.

“Ok, save it for the ring, brother,” Will says to Benny. “Foods done, let's eat.”

〰️〰️〰️

Frankie downs the rest of his beer and peeks over at your own bottle. Seeing that it's nearly empty as well, he leans in and interrupts your conversation with Will by whispering in your ear, “another drink?”

You turn to him with a sweet little smile and a nod before turning right back to listening to whatever Will was telling you.

Standing and walking into the kitchen, Frankie can't help but feel happy seeing how well you're dealing with his best friends. Brothers, really, after everything the four of them had been through. Which is just another reason for Frankie to smile, knowing that the guys are going out of their way to make you feel comfortable.

Opening the fridge and grabbing two more bottles, Frankie hears the soft padding of footsteps and raises his chin to see that Benny has followed him. He steps back and let's the younger man grab a water bottle and a beer.

“So, you tappin’ that yet?” Benny asks with a salacious wiggle of his brows.

Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend's crudeness. "Come on, man, she just got divorced."

"Ok, but if that wasn't an issue?" Benny pushes.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if she'd even want that."

“But you are into her?"

"Of course I am, Benny!"

"Well, don't wait too long, brother. Don't let her slip through your fingers."

〰️〰️〰️

In the living room you are left with Santiago and Will. Santiago takes the opportunity of having Frankie out of the room and turns to you. “So, has Fish been treating you well?”

You're confused by the question, but answer, “of course. He's a really good friend.” You smile as you lower your head.

“But I'm sensing you're maybe interested in more than that?” Santiago pushes.

“Um, well, I'm just kinda going with the flow. He's just kinda been there for me through a whole shit storm,” you explain.

“Well one of you is gonna have to make a move at some point.”

Before you can deny anything, Will comes to your defense. “Come on, Pope. This isn't an interrogation here.” You smile at the man appreciatively, but then he ads: “anyway, we both know Frankie is gonna take his time making any moves."

The conversation is cut short when Benny saunters back into the room, presenting you with another beer in a flourish.

“Do you do any fishing?” Santiago changes the topic swiftly.

“Not at all,” you laugh.

“Don't like fish?”

"More like fish don't like me. I had a goldfish once, but it died pretty much as soon as I got it home."

“How do you murder a goldfish?” Benny asks, looking your way incredulously.

“I don't know! I did everything the guy at the store told me to do.”

“Well, lucky for you, it's ok if the ones you catch die, goldfish killer,” Benny jokes. “The goal is to eat them anyway.”

“I don't know. I have zero experience with fishing,” you protest.

“Don't you worry, we will teach you everything there is to know,” Benny says with a wink. “I hear catfish are pretty easy to catch.”

Santiago snickers and you see Will try to hide a smirk.

“Is that what you guys usually fish for?” You ask, trying to gain some context for the comment and following reaction.

“No, darlin’, it's not,” Will answers, his smirk evolving into a smile. “But we will be happy to have you come with us whenever you want to tag along.”

“Where are you guys trying to take her, hermano?” Frankie asks as he re-enters the living room. You notice that his lips are turned down slightly and his brows are pinched, creating that worry line between them that he sometimes gets when he's thinking too hard about a case.

“Just offering to teach the goldfish killer how to do some real fishing.” Benny's smile is wide and definitely leaning away from innocent.

“It was literally just one goldfish,” you mumble.”It's not like I'm some mass goldfish murder.”

Frankie pats your shoulder as he takes his seat beside you, “of course not, cariño. I know you'd never purposely hurt a fish.” His tone was only mildly sarcastic, so you let him off with a glare.

“Well you might have to break that rule once we get out to the lake with a hook in the water, but I think you'll manage just fine,” Benny laughs. “Here, put your number in my phone!”

Benny's phone is slapped into your palm, so you have no choice but to comply with his request. He also grabs for your phone and unlocks it to immediately start adding his contact info in return. Only seconds after you have swapped phones back, your own phone alerts you to a message. Opening the screen you note that you have now been added to a group message labeled “Operation Teach Goldfish To Reel In A Big Catch”. You see Frankie listed in the chat, as well as two other phone numbers that are not saved in your contacts.

“Kinda long for a chat name, don't ya think?” You comment, raising one brow toward the younger Miller brother.

“It's a working title,” Benny laughs out loud. “Now let's get going, guys. I have a fight to win!”

There were only a few people there when you got to the venue where the fights were being held. You go back and watch Benny warm up, surprised that the goofy guy from back at the barbecue has now turned deathly serious. He's definitely in his element here. Frankie and Will offer some pointers and words of encouragement until it's time for him to go change.

“I'm gonna go get our seats,” Frankie says as you all file out towards the changing room.

“You're not gonna walk out with me?” Benny sounds suddenly anxious.

“I don't wanna leave her alone, hermano,” Frankie explains, gesturing toward you.

Benny's brows pinch together and his frown deepens.

“I can go save the seats myself,” you assure with a smile at both men.

“Are you sure, cariño?” Frankie looks mildly worried, but he's also glancing back to Benny, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“Of course! You guys do your manly ritual stuff and I'll be out there when you get done.” Turning toward Benny you give him a bright smile, “good luck out there!”

The smile Benny gives in return is full of relief and appreciation. “Thanks, Goldfish.”

“That's… You didn't forget my name already, did you?” You ask hesitantly.

Benny laughs outright at that. “Of course not, sweetheart. But Goldfish Killer is too long to say every time.”

With a huff and an eye roll you try to hide the smile that's creeping into your face. “Ok, asshole. You go focus on not getting knocked out in the ring.”

“Not a chance of that happening,” he retorts with a wink before turning to go into the changing room.

Frankie turns to you once more. “You sure you'll be ok out there?” He asks once more.

“I'm positive, Morales. You go make sure Benny is ready to win this thing.”

Frankie smiles down at you with a soft look in his eyes. “Kay. I'll see you out there soon.”

People are starting to trickle in as you enter the arena and scope out for the seats Frankie had mentioned earlier where they usually sat. They are in the front row and still open, so you make sure to stake your claim on four seats and sit down to wait.

You're scrolling through social media when a shadow falls over you. You look up and see a man standing next to you, waiting to catch your attention. “Hey, are these seats taken?” He asks.

“No, those ones are free. I just have these ones on my left,” you smile politely.

“Thanks,” the guy smiles back before taking the seat next to you. You focus back on your scrolling for a moment before the guy speaks again. “Should be a good fight tonight, huh?”

Looking back up, you see the stranger is still addressing you. “Yeah, I'm sure it will be,” you respond.

“Who are you betting on?” He asks.

“Ben Miller,” you answer without a thought.

“Really? Ok,” the guy laughs.”I'm Nick, by the way.”

You give him your name in return and, with mild reluctance, allow him to engage you in a conversation.

It's 20 minutes before the lights dim and loud music starts pouring out of the speakers. You turn to focus on what's happening, but Nick leans closer to say something else. In that moment, you feel Frankie settle into the chair to your left, his arm automatically falling across your shoulders and he's pulling you toward him.

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry that took so long.” Frankie's voice is deep, but usually it's a soft gravely sound that drapes over you like a warm, wool blanket. In this moment, though, his voice has turned stentorian. It's so clear, even over all the background noise, that you are sure Nick has heard every word without issue.

To prove that point, the stranger immediately backs off.

You smile up at Frankie thankfully as Santiago and Will make their way over, passing beers to you and Frankie. He takes his beer in his left hand and keeps his right arm firmly around your shoulders. Accepting that he wasn't going to move any time soon, you subtly lean toward him and focus on the fight that's starting in the ring.

As the second fight begins and the announcer introduces Benny, the solid arm moves from your shoulders and Frankie's hand drops to your thigh. The weight of that hand causes your stomach to flutter as he gives one squeeze of his strong fingers.

You glance over to the owner of the warm hand and see that he is leaning over Santiago, listening to something Will is saying.

You take the opportunity and bring your hand up as well. You allow yourself to touch the denim of his jeans, feeling along the solid span of his thigh, moving inward until the tips of your fingers are touching the inner seam of them.

His hand squeezes your thigh again, this time just a hint harder. Not a warning to stop; probably not even something he meant to do, you realize after peeking up at his face through your lashes. Frankie is straight faced, appearing to be watching as Benny gains the upper hand early on his opponent. But his eyes flicker down to your quickly every few seconds, and each time you catch him you move your hand just a little farther up his leg.

〰️〰️〰️

Frankie's arm is around you again, but this time he has you pulled firmly into his side as he leads you down the hallway. The announcer had barely finished announcing Benny as the winner before he had grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the arena. With one sharp turn he leads you through one of the doors along the hall and has you backed against it in one swift motion.

“I've been waiting to kiss you for so long,” he growls into your neck.

“So why haven't you already?” You counter. And that's all it takes for Frankie's lips to come crashing down on yours.

It's a rough meeting of mouths, both of you having lost all patients after weeks of waiting for this. His mustache tickles you and you giggle a bit at the sensation of his facial hair as well as the euphoria of finally kissing this man after dreaming about it for so long. He takes this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you eagerly accept.

The kiss has melted into a deep exploration of each other's mouths while his hands find their way up your sides. Those hands cover your ribcage, up just below the swell of your breasts; he caresses the very bottom of them with just his thumbs before both hands continue toward your back. He traces fingertips down each vertebrae of your spine until he reaches your ass and firmly takes a handful of each cheek.

This action causes you to be pulled closer to his body and it's that moment that you realize he has slotted his leg between your thighs. The friction causes you to gasp and your head falls back against the door. Frankie takes this opportunity to begin exploring your exposed neck, mapping out all the places that make you moan and squirm on his thigh.

You move your hands up to push your fingers through his curly hair, knocking his hat off in the process. As his mouth meets the juncture of your neck and shoulder, electricity flashes up your spine and you grip a handful of his hair in one of your fists. The pull on his scalp rips a moan from deep in his chest and he jerks his hips into yours. With this added closeness, you can clearly feel his excitement pressing into your hip.

You drag a hand slowly down Frankie's body, feeling all the firm muscle of his shoulder and pecs, traveling further down his stomach until you reach the edge of his tee shirt. His mouth has migrated toward the other side of your neck as you push your hand up under the bottom of his shirt, fingers dancing across skin covered in a speckling of hair, following the trail down to his belt and…

Suddenly both of your phones are vibrating at the same time. You squeak loudly as you feel his phone through the pocket of the leg he has firmly pressed into your center.

“Fucking shit,” Frankie curses, stepping away from you and reaching into his jeans for the phone. “Fucking assholes,” he curses again, turning the phone to show you that Santiago is calling him.

You fall back onto the door and retrieve your own phone with shaking hands. It's Benny calling you, which you allow Frankie to see with a shake of your head and sardonic smile. He huffs out a deep breath and ignores the call.

“Guess we better find them,” Frankie sighs, running a hand over his kiss-swollen lips.

“Yeah, we should do that,” you agree, running your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame it. Once you both have composed yourselves to the best of your abilities, you allow Frankie to open the door and lead you out with a hand low on your back.

Immediately you hear Benny's voice hollering from down the hall, “Well well well, there they are.”

You feel your whole body cringe before turning toward the rowdy voice, knowing full well your face is flaming red from both embarrassment and where Frankie's stubble had rubbed your skin sensitive.

“And where have you been?” Benny questions as the three men approach.

“Around,” Frankie answers, barely nonchalant.

Benny laughs loudly, but Will expertly leads him continuously down the hall. Though not without throwing you and Frankie a knowing smile.

“Did you lose your hat while you were “around” exploring random storage rooms?” Santiago inquires with a leer as he also sweeps past the two of you, following the Miller brothers.

Frankie's hand shoots to his head and he runs his fingers through uncontained hair. He curses under his breath then turns to hastily swoop his hat from the floor and place it back on his head.

When he stands back to his full height, he pauses a moment to gaze at you. The corners of his eyes crinkle into a smile as your eyes meet his and in an instant he's leaning down to deliver a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “We better catch up or we'll never hear the end of it,” he comments.

The three men are standing around outside the doors when Frankie finally escorts you out. Benny wastes no time pulling you into their conversation. “Bar? I need a drink after that win!”

You turn to look up at the man beside you, your eyes meeting is chocolate ones instantly. The two of you have a moment of silent communication before Frankie turns to his friends. “I think we'll skip the bar tonight, hermano. You guys have fun though.”

“Oh, you hear that, gentlemen? Frankie and Goldie are gonna skip the bar,” Santiago says satirically.

“Oh, we heard, brother,” Will affirms in a matching, though more subdued tone.

“Yeah yeah, ok,” Frankie interrupts the banter. “Come on, cariño, let's go before these comedians get too deep in their skit.”

The guys laugh and start their rounds of manly goodbyes.

You turn to Benny when he's stepped back from Frankie's hug. “Great job tonight. Congrats on that win,” you smile up at him.

The beaming man instantly pounced to sweep you into a hug. “Glad we finally got to meet you, Goldfish.”

“You're not gonna give that up, are you?” You glare good-naturedly.

“I've already changed your name in my phone. Can't go back now.”

You sigh half heartedly and return Benny's hug. “It was nice to finally meet you too,” you pull away with a sincere smile.

Back on the ground you get a side hug from Santiago and Will offers a friendly nod and a smile. Then, with one last wave, Frankie grabs your hand and leads you to his truck. After each of you are buckled in, he turns to you with hesitant eyes.

“So….” he doesn't hold eye contact for long, quickly tipping his head forward to hide behind the bill of his hat.

You smile at how cute he is, here in this moment. A distinct difference from the man who had you crowded against a door and rubbing yourself all over his thigh not even 15 minutes ago.

“So, I have this new condo full of brand new furniture, if you wanna check it out,” you suggest.

“Sounds perfect to me,” Frankie agrees, reaching over to grab your hand as he sets off toward your house.

✨✨Three✨✨

#triple frontier #pi!frankie #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

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schrijverr · 2 years

Text

He Was Left on the Steps of the FBI in a Basket 5

Chapter 5 out of 7

Maybe not a basket, but sixteen-year-old Dr. Spencer Reid suddenly shows up at FBI headquarters claiming that his mother has been kidnapped. The BAU isn’t certain first, but the case he sets them on proves to be an interesting one, wherein they get to know the young doctor until he’s practically family. In this chapter, they figure out who the unsub is, now they just have to get Diana back, but nothing is ever that easy.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: I'll keep tagging this as ableism, just bc of the vibes

~~~~~~~~~~~

Search Set Up

“I think I know the unsub’s delusion,” Reid says. “It took me a moment because the dates must be personal and the burial ritual is a forensic countermeasure and not part of the mythology, but it finally clicked. He’s making Greek sacrifices. The unsub has cast himself as Odysseus.”

“What?” Prentiss says.

“He’s not correct on most parts,” Reid goes on, “but he has some key elements. The victims aren’t wearing robes, but togas. And back when the Greeks still made human sacrifices, the sacrifices would wear wreaths, hence the sticks and baked barley grains would be strewn as well. The fact that they’re baked helped in preservation. To sacrifice them, they would first be felled down, before their throats were slit. They also preferred willing sacrifices, thinking them to be better. That’s what he’s trying to convince them off.”

“So, why Odysseus?” Rossi asks.

“Well,” Reid answers, “If the unsub has a military background, he can think of himself as Odysseus, making sacrifices to get home. Even if that never happened in the literature. That’s why he left the book on display. It’s his story. The cardinal points, the skipping the West. He’s making sacrifices to Aeolus, the keeper of the winds that gave Odysseus the West wind that brought him home.”

“But he operates East from his home, isn’t that the wrong direction then?” Morgan comments.

“Maybe so, but it was the favorable wind in the myth and if he’s military, he was likely stationed overseas, probably the Near East, maybe even near Greece,” Reid explains. “He probably thinks he never came home from there.”

“We can use this to narrow it down,” Hotch says. “Call Garcia.”

“Hey, baby girl,” Morgan is on the line in seconds.

“Hiya sexy, what can I do you for?” Garcia replies.

“Garcia, I need you to pull up men who used to live in the area, but haven’t in a few years,” Hotch says.

“Alright, that’s quite a lot. Got anything for me to narrow it down?” she asks.

Reid jumps in before anyone else can. “Look for men who have lost their wife and probably a kid too, son most likely. This is either through death or a divorce in which the father lost visitation rights.”

“That helps, still twenty hits,” she replies.

“Okay, uhm, look for anyone without a current home address,” Reid offers.

“Yes, I got two,” Gracia sounded victorious. “One James Sterling and Alexander Seeworth. James worked as a soldier overseas, but turned to drinking when he came home. Wife divorced him and has a retraining order against him as does their son. He left the state and pops up in a few homeless shelters here and there.”

Reid shakes his head and Morgan says: “What about Alexander Seeworth, mama?”

“Alexander Seeworth’s wife and son died right as he was about to come home from duty,” Garcia sounds sad, like she always does when there’s a tragedy in a person’s life. “They were taken by a jealous ex-boyfriend of the wife, then killed when she rejected him again. Alexander was a marine, but never returned to duty due to grief taking over. He lived in the old house for a year before selling and dropping off the map.”

“When were the wife and son killed?” Hotch asks.

“Oh- oh god,” Garcia reacts to what she reads, before answering: “They were killed on the 25thof March, but they were taken21st, sir.”

“It’s him,” Hotch confirms. “Any addresses in the area from him or a family member? Or a vehicle registered in his name?”

“He drives an RV that’s still in his wife’s name and there is a townhouse near the lake belonging to an uncle who-” she sighs, “who was reported missing by a friend on the 22ndten years ago. Never found.”

“That must be the first victim,” Emily says as Hotch asks: “Can you find the RV?”

“It showed up on traffic camera’s a day ago near the city’s edge,” Garcia answers.

“He’s already at the town house,” Rossi says. “Garcia-”

“Address is already send to you,” she interrupts him. “Good luck, my team of crime fighters.”

Hotch hangs up and immediately starts giving orders. Prentiss, Rossi and Morgan leave to get ready for the raid, while Hotch briefs the police that will be coming with them and JJ calls a SWAT team to come help as well.

It’s chaos in the station and Reid suddenly feels very overwhelmed and very alone.

He tucks his knees close to his chest and watches, by peekingover them as the room devolves into motion.

Reid has done his part. He won’t be allowed to go on the raid and they know who did it.

The picture of the man, who took his mother looks up at him. Alexander Seeworth looks absolutely normal and Reid remembers awkwardly nodding to him on the street two days before his mom was taken.

It’s strange how he suddenly feels disconnected from his body. There is so much to be done still, but the moment they knew who it is, he shut down.

Only when the precinct has emptied itself into vehicles with sirens blaring loudly, does JJ take note of the small form that’s still on the table, staring into the distance without seeing anything. She sits down next to him and doesn’t say a word, lifting an arm as invite without forcing him closer.

After a few seconds, Reid leans into her side and murmurs: “Theoretically, I knew that after the tension of not knowing was over, I’d crash, but no book prepared me for this. How do you deal with it every day?”

JJ sighs and looks ahead. “It’s hard and just an awful feeling you have to get used to. If a case ends well, the empty feeling is replaced by relief. If it doesn’t, it gets worse until you snap yourself out of it.”

“And how do I snap myself out of it?” Reid asks softly.

“That depends from person to person,” JJ says. “Derek goes to a bar, for example. Hotch goes home to his wife. Rossi, Rossi drinks fancy wines and makes himself dinner. Emily cuddles with her cat or goes out as well. And Penelope keeps her spirit up by decorating her computer lair in all things colorful and happy.”

“What about you?” Reid finally raises his head from it was buried between his knees. “What do you do to feel better?”

“I watch sports or I go out with Derek, Emily and Penelope,” JJ answers. “But on nights I feel truly bad, I do what Gideon does.”

That piques Reid’s interest: “What does he do? Agent Gideon?”

“He has all these photos of people he saved. He used to have them in his office as well as in this little notebook he carried. They’re his reminders of that it’s worth it. To feel like this. Because it helps people,” JJ says. “Sometimes the reminder of why we do this job is necessary.”

Reid hums thoughtfully. “That seems nice. I don’t have that though,” he replies.

“Not yet, but soon we’ll have your mom here and you’ll have saved her,” JJ tells him, hoping they’ll hear from the other’s soon. “And you have brought 39 people peace about the disappearance of their loved ones. That’s no small feat, Spence.”

He finally lowers his leg, uncurling at the compliment and says: “Thank you, Agent JJ.”

“No problem,” she says. “And just JJ is fine, Spence. You’re my friend, no need for agent.”

“We’re friends?” he asks, and the surprise in the statement cuts through JJ.

“Yeah, we’re friends. I’m pretty sure you’re friends with everyone in the BAU,” she replies, hoping he sees she’s genuine.

“That’s cool,” his eyes crinkle slightly as his smile broadens. “I’ve never had friends before.”

At that point the radio crackles and they hear Hotch: “Okay, everyone in position? We’re about to move in.”

They wait in suspense as the team moves through the building. Since they’re not on the scene all they have is the silence to fill the time and it’s grating on their nerves. It’s quiet at the police station at nearly eight PM and it’s already dark outside.

Reid is tapping his fingers together and kicking his feet. The numbness from before is gone, instead he’s filled with nervous anticipation. All the statistics run through his mind. Will his mother be okay? Will they be able to catch the guy? Will his mom ever recover? He doesn’t want to think about all that can go wrong, but his mind won’t stop zooming.

In an effort to distract himself from the sudden nothingness when his mind is filled, he turns on the television and immediately drops the remote in desperate disbelief.

Over the radio, they can hear Hotch say: “The house is clear. He’s not here, but the RV is parked here. Did anything tip him off?”

JJ also sees the news and reports: “The media did. The story is on the news.”

Indeed on the small precinct screen a report is talking about all the bodies found in the woods and how there are rumors of a serial killer that has been active for the past ten years in their little town, with victims counting in the 30s.

“Then he can be anywhere and has Diana with him,” Hotch says. “We’ll canvas the area, try to see where he might have gone and send out search parties. I don’t know how much we can do in the dark, but we’ll try. JJ, I need you to see who leaked the story and check in with Reid, this will be hard for him.”

“Of course, sir,” JJ says, she can also imagine how difficult this will be on the boy. Just a few seconds ago she was assuring him they’d have his mother here soon, now she is in the wind with a serial killer who can kill her at any moment.

“He got away with her, didn’t he,” Reid’s tone is more resigned than anything else and she hates that he is so used to disappointment that he can’t even bring himself to be it in a situation as dire as this one.

“Yeah, Spence, I’m really sorry,” JJ tells him. “I’m going to try to get to the bottom of this and the other’s are doing everything they can. We’ll find her.”

“Just don’t give up on her?” he says, voice unbearably small.

“Of course not,” JJ puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

Reid sags into the contact and wraps her arms around her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder as he softly whispers: “Thank you, you’re the first who haven’t given up on her, or me. Despite all the us-ness.”

And JJ knows, she’s read the reports. She’s seen how police, the judge, the jury, everyone, is less likely to help the mentally ill, the disabled in general, the prostitutes, the drug addicts, the people of color, but it still hurt to see it in action. To see a kid, who hasn’t been helped just because his mother needs accommodations.

“Your you-ness, cracked this case. We’re on the right path thanks to you,” JJ says forcefully. “Don’t you ever forget that, Spence.”

“I won’t,” he promises.

“Good,” she squeezes one last time, then lets go and does a step back. “I’m going to call ever contact I have until I know who broke the story, alright. You get some rest, okay?”

“Okay, JJ,” he answers, but he sits back on the table and stares at the map, as if it will tell him where his mother is.

In the end, JJ spends two hours on the phone before she has the guy. Peter Miller. He has been run out of the media ever since a false story led to a wrongful arrest as the real perpetrator got away and he’s been trying to claw his way back ever since. Probably thought he could win some credit by breaking the story first.

“Dammit, Peter, we had a deal,” JJ fumes. “Evening news. Tomorrow. Do you know when tomorrow is?”

“Come on, Jennifer,” he says as if it’s no big deal. “You got a few hours. I thought the BAU were the best out there, didn’t catch this guy yet?”

“We did,” she says.

“Then what’s the big deal?” Peter asks.

“The big deal, Peter, is that the guy saw the news and ran,” her voice can kill a man with how steely and sharp it is. “The big deal, is that he has a mother of sixteen-year-old boy with him. The big deal, Peter, is that he’s now in the wind and will kill her, if she becomes a burden. The big deal, is that you are the reason we have a kid here with no mother, while he should have been in her arms hours ago.”

“Wha- I never-” Peter splutters.

“What you didn’t do was think,” JJ spits. “And I will make sure that everyone knows how badly you messed up. Again. You will never find work anywhere, I’ll make sure of that. So gather the last remnants of dignity you have and think about what you’ve done. Goodbye.”

She hangs up before he can reply and has to take a few moment to be furious. They would have had him, they would have caught him, if it weren’t for that lying son of a bitch.

JJ truly hates the vultures she works with on some days.

When she’s calmed down a bit, she goes to check on Reid. He’s sitting in front of the crimes boards – all of them – with a cup of coffee. It doesn’t look like he’ll be going to bed anytime soon.

“You really should be resting,” she breaks the silence and he looks up at her, kind of startled, like he didn’t hear her coming.

“I- I want to wait until Hotch gets back,” he tells her. “Just in case they find her out there.”

“That’s okay, honey,” JJ puts as much compassion into her voice as she can, grateful for the amount of experience she has. “But you shouldn’t be looking at those photos. You don’t want your brain to be running the worst cases with imagery to back it up.”

He smiles sadly and says: “I know that. I know Hotch will probably be mad too. I just can’t help it. I keep imaging how these victims must have felt. If he truly convinced them to go willingly, I wonder if they were scared. If they realized it was a mistake just a moment toolate. I wonder if he already convinced my mom.”

“Spence-” JJ attempts to cut him off, but he doesn’t let her.

“No, just- What would convince these people? What is he telling her? Does she believe him? I’m just scared that she’ll never be herself again. Or that he let’s her go and she wanders around in the forest, alone and confused until the elements take her, never knowing that I was looking for her. I don’t want her to die, thinking I gave up.” Tears appear in his eyes and his voice is shaky at the end as the dam breaks.

“Oh, Spence,” JJ sighs. “She’ll know, I promise.”

“How can you be sure?” he asks, voice desperate to hear confirmation that his biggest fear isn’t real.

“Well, I can’t imagine that someone, who raised such an amazing person as you, wouldn't know how much you love her and how far you’d go for her,” she says. “She knows. She’s probably waiting for herknight to come get her.”

The comment gets a smile out of Reid, who says: “She would lovethat. Epics are her favorite. She isn’t great about the government, doesn’t trust them, you know. But when I told her, she loved the idea of me using my brain to go save the day somewhere. Called me her littleknight back then.”

“That sounds like a good memory,” JJ replies. “Don’t forget those, just because it’s bad now. I’m sure you’re already making her proud.”

“Thank you,” he is sosincere it hurts. “I’ve come crashing into your life and you’ve been nothing but nice to me. It means a lot, so thank you.”

It is technically her job to make sure the families of the victims are doing okay, but Spencer is different. He has such a big heart and brain with an innocence wrapped in hardness that stole the hearts of the BAU with his earnesty.

He feels like family. She feels towards him, like she imagines her older sister felt about her and it feels good to carry on that legacy by caring for Spencer and his well being.

She smiles: “It’s not really a chore to be nice to you, Spence. And I believe that everyone deserves kindness.”

“Yeah, me too,” Reid says and they fall silent for a moment.

“Hey,” JJ breaks the silence. “I know you don’t want to, but you really need to rest. Just take a nap on the couch. I promise, I’ll wake you up when Hotch gets here.”

Reid is obviously reluctant, but gives in after a few moments. He curls up on the couch similarly to how he was on the plane, even pulling out his mother’s cardigan to lie under. He’s out like a light in no time, despite the caffeine. All the stress of the past week, for him already, must be catching up with him. JJ just hopes he’ll be alright someday.

It’s nearly 2 AM when Hotch returns with the others, before JJ has even greeted them she knows they didn’t find her. Hotch confirms by shaking his head. The whole group looks tired and the police who were with them, go home as fast as they can. It will be an early morning.

“I told Spence I would wake him up when you arrive,” she tells Hotch. “He seems upset, but he could have taken it worse.”

“That’s good,” Hotch says.

“Do you think we can find her?” JJ asks the question whose answer she’s been dreading.

“Seeworth knows this area and these woods, they can be anywhere,” Hotch says. “It’s a small chance, but we might be able to lure him out and find him. He’s probably monitoring the news now that he knows we’re onto him. We can try to play into his sympathies of a broken up family.”

“You want Spencer to do a press statement,” JJ concludes.

“Yes.”

“He’ll do it,” she says. “He’s terrified of not doing enough. Of not saving her. If you think it’s our best shot, I’m behind you. He’ll appreciate having a plan when you talk to him. But also tell him that rest is important. The earliest we can release a statement is the morning news, 6 o’clock. He was planning to stay awake looking at the boards. I had to drag him away. Don’t be mad about him looking at the photos.”

“I will talk to him and I’m not mad about the photos, at this point, I understand. We need everything we have on this,” Hotch tells her. “Thank you, JJ. Try to get some rest as well.”

JJ nods: “Yes, sir,” then walks away to give Hotch and Reid some space.

Hotch gently shakes Reid’s shoulder and the kid startles awake, before blinking heavily. His eyes slowly focus until he realizes who’s in front of him. He sits up straight and attentive as he asks: “And did you find her?”

“The trail had already run cold,” Hotch reports, hating that there isn’t better news. “We know the two of them were there, but he got out before we arrived at the scene. I’m sorry.”

Reid sighs in a deeply tired manner, before attempting a smile: “It’s okay. JJ tore the guy who leaked it a new one. I don’t think she meant for me to overhear, though. She was very scary. But, what are we going to do now? JJ said you wouldn't give up, but you don’t know where he went.”

Hotch feels there is more to it than just a cold trail for Reid to ask it, terrified of the answer, but he doesn’t comment on that as he answers: “But we do have the profile. We know why he does, what he does and we’re going to try and lure him out. If that does not work, we’ll profile where he’s most likely to go.”

“How are we going to lure him out?” Reid asks, marginally cheered by the prospect of a plan.

“Tomorrow, you’re going to give a press release, asking Alexander Seeworth directly, to bring your mother back to you. As someone who has lost his own family and took those he deems were also alone, he will be sympathetic to you,” Hotch explains.

“I’m not good a public speaking,” Reid tells him, the cheer disappearing. “He’ll never listen. I’m not good with people.”

“That’s not what I’ve experienced,” Hotch says honestly. “I experienced a smart young man, who is compassionate and caring. Someone who empathizes and is genuine. You don’t have to do anything, but be yourself and ask for your mother’s safe return. You’ve been doing that since I know you and you do it convincingly.”

“T- Thank you, Hotch,” Reid finally manages the smile, albeit a bit wobbly.

“But you can’t do that if you’re not rested,” Hotch’s voice is stern yet kind. “It’s past 2 AM already and we want to get you on the morning news at 6. Get those four hours, okay, kid?”

“Okay,” Reid gives in without a fight, which says a lot about his state. Everyone is exhausted and they’re used to it, he can’t imagine how Reid feels with the horrible news on top of it.

Hotch puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles encouragingly. “Smart choice. Here, I’ll drive you to the hotel. You’re sharing a room with Morgan, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Reid doesn’t really look convinced.

“Are you sure?” Hotch asks.

“I mean, I’m not going to spend a lot of time there anyway. And if I avoid the elevator button, doorknob and bathroom, I should be fine,” Reid replies.

“What’s bothering you? It’s okay, Reid. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Hotch says gently.

Reid doesn’t meet his eyes as he answers: “Did you know that a hotel elevator button has 1,447 time more germs than a household toilet doorknob and the average hotel doorknob has 918 times more germs than a household toilet seat?”

“Your not a fan of germs, I take it?” Hotch says, the face when Reid first shook his hand making more sense as well as his avoidance to shake Lance’s hand.

“Not really, no,” Reid confirms. “Like handshakes, I don’t like them. Hands are one of the dirtiest places, it’s actually safer to kiss.” Hotch nods, but Reid quickly adds. “But the hotel is fine. I’m fine for one night, one short night at that. Don’t worry.”

Hotch raises a brow, before turning and calling out: “Dave.”

Rossi looks back confused, but there is relief when he sees Reid is not crying on the floor or something. “Yeah, Hotch?”

“Do you still carry that spread in your go-bag?” Hotch asks.

“I still have that, yes,” Rossi answers. “But it isn’t cold out. Why?”

“Could Reid lend it for the night?” Hotch ignores the start of Reid’s protest as Rossi confirms that of course the kid can have it for the night. Hotch turns back and says: “Now you’ll at least have a barrier. I can’t do more, but Rossi is one of the cleanest people I know. He’s washed it before packing it, I promise.”

Reid looks highly embarrassed, but also incredibly touched as he softly thanks Hotch.

“No problem, kid,” Hotch smiles, before guiding Reid out of the station and into the car. He’s exhausted and can’t wait to collapse on his bed, even if his alarm will go off in a few short hours. It isn’t ideal to go on that little sleep, but with Seeworth aware of their investigation and in the wind, it is a race against the clock and they need every moment they can get.

At the hotel, he gets the spread from Rossi that he gives to Reid, before handing the teen over to Morgan, who leads the two to their room.

Morgan wants to ask how the kid is doing, but he decides against it. They already have little time for sleep and he can’t imagine Reid will want to talk about his feelings after he has already talked with JJ and Hotch. So, he just says: “Rest well, Reid.”

“You too, Morgan,” Reid replies from where he is wrapped in Rossi’s spread, even making sure it’s under his head. Morgan doesn’t know why exactly he’s doing that, but he can’t ponder the question before he’s out like a light as well.

The alarm is blaring in his ear and Morgan feels like he only blinked.

He’s still groaning and questioning his life choices when the thing is turned off. He makes a confused noise and looks up to see Reid, who apologetically says: “I didn’t want to wake anyone in the neighboring rooms. The average alarm clock goes off at 80 decibels, which is the same as freight traffic.”

Morgan smiles at Reid, the kids sure is something, and sits up. He stretches and rubs his eyes as he greets: “Good morning. You get any sleep?”

“More than expected,” Reid answers.

“That’s good,” Morgan nods absentmindedly, before going through his motions robotically. He will never be truly awake before either a run or some coffee and it isn’t a running morning.

When he gets out of the shower, Reid has already changed and folded the spread Rossi lend him carefully as he waits for Morgan to be done. Breakfast isn’t more than grabbing a coffee and donut at the police station, which is too stereotypical for Morgan to think about, though he doesn’t complain.

The tired faces of the others are waiting for them when they enter the room they’ve been given and they all mumble exhausted good mornings.

Reid presents Rossi with the spread and thanks him profusely. Rossi just smiles at him and says he’s glad someone got some use out of it.

Once they sat down, JJ jumps into it. “Most of my sources know there will be a statement in regard to the murders. They’re like sharks around this sort of thing, so the early morning isn’t an issue. I’ve talked with local news and radio stations and they will air the statement throughout the day.”

Wha- What am I meant to say exactly?” Reid asks, obviously intimidated.

“You’re going to introduce yourself, then address Seeworth directly and explain to him that he has your mother and that she’s your only family and that you want her safely returned,” JJ tells him. “You can say that you know what he went through, but you don’t have to. Just say what feels right.”

“And be aware of the profile,” Hotch adds. “This man is stuck in a delusion born out of the desperation to get home. He feels lost and is willing to kill to feels like he belongs again. But he is not a killer, he doesn’t enjoy his acts, they’re just a means to an end. He also doesn’t despise his victims, but cares for them throughout their captivity. Use that to your advantage.”

Reid is nodding along, but looking overwhelmed.

“Look, kid,” Morgan gets his attention. “There is no wrong way to do it, as long as you don’t accuse or get mad. Just don’t do those two things and you’re good. Okay?”

“Okay,” Reid repeats and it sounds like a pep-talk.

“You can absolutely do this,” Morgan tell him.

“We’ll be right there,” Prentiss says, surprising most, but Reid smiles gratefully at her, feeling a little more like he isn’t going to turn into a puddle the moment he gets out there.

A/N:

Slight confession, I never read the Odyssey. I know I made it a plot point and I have opinions on it, but I only read the Wikipedia pages about it lmao (I am planning on reading it at some point in my life though)

Also I’m really proud of the unsub I created and I want y’all to know that. I’ve had this whole profile, background thing written out, it’s about a page long and I’ve been staring at it the entire time to check if everything’s correct, so shout out to me.

#RR writing #tw: ableism #(very minor)#cm #cm au #criminal minds au #criminal minds #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #aaron hotch #emily prentiss #derek morgan #dave rossi #penelope garcia #He Was Left on the Steps of the FBI in a Basket #He Was Left on the Steps of the FBI in a Basket Part 5

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procrastinationonvacation · 3 years

Note

I loved your Angband answer! I would love to keep hearing your thoughts (they’re really interesting!), so could I possibly ask about your opinions on The Wives (Nerdanel, Anairë and Eärwen)?

- Captain Anon (I like the name :))

Hello Captain anon!! I’m glad you like it :)

ok I think it was @feanorianethicsdepartment who came up with this: but they all suffer from being Chaotic as hell. To sum up what the post was, these three Voluntarily chose to be in this family, where no one has had a “chill” day in their life. (as usual im putting the bulk of this under a cut cause it got long)

The one exception in this family *might* be Arafinwe bc 1.did not join this life voluntarily and 2.seems pretty chill. So fine maybe Earwen isn’t That chaotic. They do have the most operative children after all.

anyways:

Nerdanel: “the wise.” pfft yeah right. The only person crazier than her is feanor and I say that endearingly. Arguably worse when it comes to crafting. Listen, Feanor is in part the way he is about his creations because he’s angry at everyone and generally has unresolved issues with his parents. The guy is like “my motivation is to be better than everyone. Because I hate everyone.” That’s our boy. Nerdanel has none of that, she wants to be better than everyone because she is. It’s pure hubris, unchecked ambition and “what even is that, how can I make it Cooler (more sparkly).” Mahtan and Finwe should run.

Obviously this gets a little toned down when her husband goes crazy over his three shiny-s. Obviously she realizes that considerations should be made before just rampantly making a thing when she sees what swords have done to her friends. I’m imagining it kind of like Walton in Frankenstien listening to Frankensteins story and thinking “ok it’s time to go back to my community because all consuming ambition has some pretty shit consequences”

Remember in some appendix some place they’re like “oh we mean wise but like,, only in being technically smart,,, these people were legit idiots” when talking about the Noldor? Yeah.

Anaire: Look at their kids and her husband and just TRY and tell me she was a normal person. Like yeah they all pass for normal, especially considering their relations, but the moment things start going south they go straight to eagle flying and morgoth challenging. Anyways I never rally say Fingolfin as an aggressive influence so I guess what I’m trying to say is it had to come from somewhere and Anaire will wreck your shit. Like at elven thanksgiving dinner, when the whole family gets together, if there’s a fight theres a 90% chance it’s Feanor and Anaire going at it, 10 seconds away from the first kinslaying at all times.

Also this is a complete reach, but her name means holy or something like that, so I imagine she’s pretty tight with the valor. And she and Earwen are friends, so all I’m saying is that they are the Worlds Best Gossips and have shit on Manwe himself.

Please understand I say this all affectionately.

Earwen: the one for who’s sanity a case could actually be made. She and Arafinwe are generally pretty removed from the drama, but that doesn’t mean they dont get visits. just imagine Anaire showing up to their house like “Arafinwe, you’ll never guess what your dumb brother is up to now. “ and then it’s time to play “is she mad at Feanor or Fingolfin” (plot twist it’s Findis’ husband)

Also I’m assuming she’s pretty forgiving because Arafinwe came back from the revolt of the noldor, and no one said anything about them having a divorce or something sooooooo… 100% uses it to get him to do stuff in later ages tho: “hey can we watch star wars” “no we watched it last week” “wow you’re really killing my dreams. Just stabbing them through-“ “star wars! such a great movie!! we should do a marathon!”

Thanks for the ask!!! I really enjoyed it!!

#asks #shiny murder family extended edition #Captain anon

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kumeko · 3 years

Text

Title: shadows of the past

A/N: For the Yona Tarot zine. I really need to write a Hak/Yona/Su-won piece.

…

Son Mundok didn’t like going to the capital these days. No, that implied he liked visiting at some point, that he’d once found it anything but an annoyance. That was a blatantly untrue fact. The capital was filled with headache-inducing bureaucracy, obvious brown-nosing, and miles of red tape. He hadn’t liked it as a young man and he certainly didn’t like it now that his hair was grey.

Grimacing, he stared up at the castle gates. Despite the changes in emperors throughout the years, this view had remained the same. Imposing steel gates stared down at him, slowly opening only once he’d announced himself. Mundok had once hoped he would never see these gates again, barring a wedding celebration or two.

Life, it seemed, had a way of making plans go awry.

As he strolled onto the castle grounds, a woman called out his name. “Chief Mundok!” He looked up in time to catch a young, energetic woman running down the stone path toward him, eagerly waving her hand in the air. Her yellow robes flowed behind her like a bird’s feathers. Panting as she came to an abrupt stop in front of him, she gasped, “T-thank…you for…coming.”

Mundok chuckled. Clearly, she was new to this. “Take your time.”

Her expression turned sheepish and she took a deep breath. Straightening her posture, she clasped her hands and bowed her head slightly. “Chief Mundok, thank you for coming. I know it was a long journey.”

Ah, there was a title he’d hoped was gone forever. At this age, he was supposed to be comfortably retired and spoiling his grandchildren, not watching them war with one another. Scratching his jaw, he replied flatly, “I’m not a chief anymore.”

“R-right! You handed over the title last month.” Flustered, the woman turned red. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear apprehensively. Gathering her wits, she tried again. “Ex-chief Mundok, the emperor has been expecting you.”

“Of course he is.” Mundok snorted and raised a brow. “He’s the one who called me.”

“T-that’s true.” The woman clasped her hands in front of her and nervously scuffed the ground as she considered it. Troubled, she shook her head. “Well, um, it’s good you got here safely.”

Good for who? Eyeing her, Mundok sighed. That was unfair. She was probably Yona’s age and the whole affair felt like bullying a child. “What’s your name?”

“Me?” she squeaked, surprised. When he only gave her a dry look in response, she fiddled with her fingers. “Min-Ah.” She bowed deeply. “My name is Min-Ah, ex-Chief Mundok.”

It was all very polite and he never thought he’d long for Hak’s missing manners, as crude as his greetings were. “Min-Ah, when did you start working here?”

“Just a few months ago.” Min-Ah straightened her back and puffed her chest with pride. “Just after the Emperor’s coronation.”

“Is that so.” He glanced around the courtyard. The guards were a mix of familiar and new faces. How many were involved in the coup? He had drunk with some of them, trained others, had treated them like they were part of his clan. Which ones had pointed their spear at Hak? At Yona?

Which ones had stood up for them and quietly disappeared in the upheaval?

Mundok was no stranger to war, no stranger to its consequences. That didn’t make this betrayal hurt any less. He really was getting too old for all this nonsense. A sense of fatigue washed over him. “Where’s the emperor? Might as well get it over with.”

“Oh!” Min-Ah rubbed her neck, her brow furrowing. He could almost see the candle lightning up when she got an answer. “He’s in the garden.”

Mundok brushed past her as she turned to lead him. “I know the way.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked down the path he’d threaded hundreds of times, flanked on both sides by a grumpy Hak and a chatty Su-Won. In the summer, flowers lined the route, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. Mundok had never considered this place home but it had felt as comfortable as one. “I’m fine.”

He had never considered this place home, and now it felt as alien as a stranger. His shoes clacked against the granite slabs, a solitary sound. Now that it was fall, wilted plants were all that remained and his fingers brushed against a yellowing rose, the petals crinkling before falling to the ground. As he strolled past buildings, his mind assigned them meanings that no longer existed.

Here was where Hak lazed about, faking idleness while keeping guard. Here was where Yona fell asleep in his arms. Here was where Su-Won had whispered in his ear, Thank you, gramps.

Here was where the three played, fell sick, loved one another.

Part of him expected to see a flash of red in the corner of his eye, hear a chorus of childish voices call his name, to feel a small hand slip into his. However, he hadn’t seen red once while he’d been in the capital and perhaps it wasn’t only him who was having problems adjusting to the new status quo.

As Mundok turned the corner to the garden, he spotted a familiar mop of light brown hair. A young boy dressed in blue turned and smiled bashfully, hoping for praise. Yet the boy was a man now, dressed in the royal yellows of royalty, and the smile was a sad one. “Chief Mundok,” Su-Won greeted him.

“I’m not the Chief anymore,” he corrected, looking away. The Zen garden was as idyllic as it used to be. Oddly shaped rocks jutted out of sand pits and calm pond, promising a peace of mind. The only thing missing was a kind, middle-aged man.

“My apologies.” Su-Won lowered his gaze, his lips a thin line. His hand curled into a tight fist before releasing. “You picked a successor.”

“For the second time.” Su-Won flinched at his words but there was no malice behind them, just a simple truth. “I am not picking a third.”

Su-Won shook his head. “I’m sure you won’t have to.” He gave him a wry smile. “Tae-Woo is quite capable.”

“So was Hak.” Mundok grunted in response. He didn’t miss how Su-Won’s jaw tightened in his response, the shadow of grief that crossed his face. “What did you call me for?”

“I needed your assistance on some matters, particularly those pertaining to our borders.” A gentle breeze stirred, playing with his tresses, and Su-Won pushed the stray hairs out of his face. “Tae-Woo will not have your knowledge on these issues yet.”

He couldn’t deny that. Surviving three different emperors left him more intimately acquainted with the country’s politics than he liked. “Fine. Let’s get on with it.”

“We’ll discuss in the planning room.” Su-Won smiled. It held none of the radiance of his youth. “The aides have set up several charts for us to go over.”

Without another word, Mundok turned around. The sooner they got there, the sooner he could leave. If he was lucky, it would be a simple in and out operation. Unlike Fuuga, the air here felt stifling and suffocating.

“Mundok.”

The tone halted him in his tracks. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Su-Won looking up at the sky, his arms crossed. Softly, Su-Won asked, “Do you hate me?”

There was a faked nonchalance in his posture, a sense of detachment in his words. As though his fingers weren’t trembling, as though his jaw wasn’t clenched. As though a sense of sorrow didn’t pervade his every word.

Hate. Mundok closed his eye. If only it were so simple. If only he could divorce the young man in front of him from the cheerful boy he’d watch grow up. There were some emotions that love and hate couldn’t cover, some feelings that went beyond description.

“Does it matter?” he asked instead, studying Su-Won.

Su-Won looked at him now. For a brief, unguarded moment, his expression turned troubled, before smoothening back into his usual calm expression. Shaking his head slowly, he gave a depreciative laugh. “No, I suppose not.”

Part of him wanted to believe in that sadness. The other part of him knew better.

Son Mundok didn’t like going to the capital these days. It was filled with too much heartache.

#son mundok #akayona #akatsuki no yona #soo won #son hak #yona #fanfic #su won #yona the girl standing in the blush of dawn

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #242: “EASY COME... EASY GO!”

April, 1984

“Okay Avengers, the party’s over!”

Being a buzzkill, party-hating Cover Vision!

Hmm. Something about this cover makes it feel like from an older era. The returned Mighty Avengers logo or maybe the inking? Or perhaps the Silver Age DC superdickery energy to it? I can’t put my finger on it but this feels like a cover you’d see in the 70s instead of the 80s.

Last time on Avengers: Well, they went to San Francisco for a two-parter where they fought Morgan Le Fey to save Jessica Drew’s soul. As ya do.

Vision has also been a tube boy after he walked into a null field. Starfox hooked him up to the Titan supercomputer and that didn’t fix him, it did overclock his robot brain and let him broadcast giant holograms of his own head. That’s almost as good.

This time:

Some guy: “HOLY GEEZ!”

An interesting note, this guy has only ever seen Quinjets in pictures and never thought he’d see one in person. Tells you how often the Avengers hang around Ottumwa, Iowa.

We start with the Avengers in mid-return from California.

In one of the Quinjets, She-Hulk is telling Starfox that she wished they could have spent more time before returning to New York so she could have shown him LA.

Starfox: “Ah, well... I’m sure another opportunity will present itself, She-Hulk! Besides, the scenery around her has plenty to offer!”

Wanda looks like she’s trying to astral project away from Starfox putting his hand on her shoulder but she’s really just distracted thinking about Vision.

The Avengers on the Jessica Drew mission radioed back to the Mansion that they were bringing Hank Pym home but Wanda suggested that Hank could examine Vision and maybe fix him. But Vision rejected the idea and Wanda is at a loss for why he’s determined to overcome his robo-paralysis on his own.

I’m also a little confused why they didn’t call on Hank Pym sooner to examine tube Vision but then again that would have been super awkward for Wasp and Reed Richards, that hack, said Vision should have recovered quickly.

Speaking of super awkward, Hank and Wasp are alone together in the other Quinjet.

Hank is also baffled that Vision turned down his help. He repaired him once before! Remember? He got super tiny and had a fantastic voyage inside him? In Avengers #93?

Jan comments that she hasn’t heard Hank sound so confident in years and he confirms that devoting his time fully to SCIENCE and taking superheroing off the table as an option has done wonders for his emotional outlook.

He also reiterates that he never felt cut out for the superhero life. Aw, enjoy it while it lasts, bud.

And he thanks her for calling him Hank instead of “Dr. Pym” like she did at the hospital.

Wasp: “Oh... That. Well, when you flew out at my request to help save Jessica Drew’s life... after all we’d been through... the divorce and all... I’m afraid I slipped into my stuffy Avengers chairwoman voice. I thought it might make things easier, but it didn’t... For either of us. I’m sorry, Hank.”

Hank Pym: “That’s okay, Jan. I understand. Your ‘stuffy chairwoman voice,’ huh? Heh-heh. How often do you have to use that?”

Wasp: “Wellll... Most of the time the others will go along with ol’ ‘dingaling Jan’ -- but sometimes, I have to get tough. That never fails to grab their attention!”

Hank Pym: “No doubt! Once, I was the only Avenger who knew how tough you really were! I’m glad the others are learning.”

Wasp: “I guess that none of us are ever too old to learn, Hank.”

Feels like Hank is rewriting some things in his memories since Jan often had to diminish herself to make him feel better but then again it didn’t always work so maybe the idea is that he knew all along how strong she was?

Either way, nice to see these two interacting so amiably.

Also, I like that she’s able to be an effective leader while still being ‘dingaling Jan’ since it doesn’t change how smart and capable she is. And the contrast if she has to get serious only helps.

I think overall I like that her leadership style is so uniquely her and that when her character was retrofitted to operate outside of being ‘Hank Pym’s partner’ she still remained recognizably her.

We have a whopping several women on the Avengers at this time (glorious) and Wasp, She-Hulk, Scarlet Witch, and Captain Marvel all feel like different characters.

Since Vision declined Hank Pym’s help, Wasp drops him off back home in Central Indiana.

Once these two were husband and wife, friends and lovers. But they were very different people and, without meaning to, they hurt each other very much. Today, they have perhaps put a small bit of that hurt behind them. Today, they have again become friends.

Daaaaw. Friends.

Wasp returns to Avengers Mansion to discover there’s a full-on party going on. There’s even streamers and a Captain America who seems incredibly enthusiastic about streamers.

(In another fun bit, Monica knew about the party already because she flew ahead to the mansion before joining Wasp in the Quinjet after she dropped off Hank. And she was bursting to not tell Wasp what was going on as they landed.)

Wasp is even more surprised when she learns that the party is celebrating Hawkeye’s marriage.

Wasp: “Barton? You mean Hawkeye? Married?!?”

Hawkeye: “‘Fraid so, Jan! I’d like you to meet my bride... Mockingbird.”

Mockingbird: “How do you do?”

Wasp: “Oh... fine. You’ll have to excuse me. This is... quite a surprise.”

A reaction that Mockingbird says she’s getting used to because she’s seeing it from all of Hawkeye’s friends!

Hah!

Hawkeye asks Cap on the sly whether he made the right move, getting married, but Cap is very supportive, saying its the most responsible thing he’s ever done.

Hawkeye: “What?! Cap, you cut me to the quick! Haven’t I always acted in a mature, responsible manner?”

She-Hulk: “Look who’s talking... the man whose proudest achievement is the invention of the water-balloon arrow!”

Provided She-Hulk isn’t just making stuff up, there’s some serious off-screen shenanigans that we didn’t get to see, possibly involving Hawkeye shooting water balloons at She-Hulk all day.

But... CLINT. YOU INVENTED AN ANTI-GRAVITY ARROW!

Why am I the only one who remembers that?

Thor shows up at the party next, back from his own solo adventures, and offers his own congratulations to Hawkeye.

Mockingbird is undergoing some culture shock here, as she’s astounded that Hawkeye calls Thor “Goldilocks.” And when Thor turns his Thor charm on her, and blesses their wedding, she’s rendered briefly speechless.

Its fun that we get this side of her. I think she was similarly blown away when they met Cap on the subway.

But even though she was a SHIELD agent and then a freelance superhero, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of exposure to your Avengers types so Hawkeye pulling her into those social circles is a lot of fun.

She’s going to get used to it though. I know that she Avenges herself in the future.

Also, look at Thor’s flagon of mead. Holy shit. Its as big as his whole torso.

Jarvis is really dedicated!

Over in a quiet corner of the party, Wanda tries to convince Vision to let Hank Pym take a look at him but Vision dismisses the idea.

Vison: “Please, Wanda, let’s not spoil this happy occasion! Surprise parties are all too rare, and few of them are party to as many surprises as this one!”

And instead of explaining what he means, he turns his hologram off.

Well, okay.

AH HA HE WAS REPAIRED AND JUST DIDN’T MENTION

For reasons of surprise.

What a whimsical turn for the Vision.

Aw, that panel of them kissing and everyone cheering is sweet. That’s how I like to remember them. Not, err, later developments.

(I also like Mockingbird being confused whether or not he’s still a hologram because of his intangibility)

Everyone congratulates Vision for being bipedal again.

Vision: “It’s good to be moving, Jan. But my recovery shouldn’t come as that big of a surprise. As I told you a few days ago, it was just a matter of time before I isolated the cause of my body’s motor dysfunctions -- and initiated the proper repair systems.”

But he tosses some sweet cred to Starfox, for hooking up to an alien supercomputer. It’s like matchmaking but with networks.

The surprise of his surprise recovery pales compared to his next surprise, as he announces (without consulting Wanda at all, geez) that its imperative that she and him stay with the Avengers full-time.

All I’m saying is communication is important, Vizh.

And maybe you should have brought this up with Wasp too? She is the chairwoman and as Cap points out, the team is already pretty packed, especially with Hawkeye and Thor back.

Vision: “Yes, the ‘chairman’s privilege’ limit! But you’re not the leader now, Cap... the Wasp is! And she’ll just have to change that limit -- or the membership roster -- to include Wanda and myself! We will be needed in the upcoming emergency!”

Kinda dropping a lot of surprises on this surprise party, Vision! I don’t know if you really get the concept wholly? You’re not supposed to save up all the surprises for this one day.

Also, Vision’s speech bubbles have changed. They’re still rounded rectangles but they’re not yellow anymore and the font is a bit italicized. Hm. Wonder if that means anything.

Anyway, Vision announces that while he was a tube boy, he detected two major fluctuations of Earth’s electromagnetic fields by some “unknown energy of near-infinite power.”

He’s secretly been working with Reed Richards on this and neither of them have been able to track down what this nonsense is. But until this malevolent mystery is uncovered, he and Wanda as two of the more powerful reservists must obviously be active Avengers.

But how does he know its malevolent if he hasn’t been able to uncover what it is? Deductive reasoning and intuitive presentiment!

Pffffft.

I think this might be my favorite recent punchline from this book.

But Vision has more than just bad vibes to be given a frighten by this upcoming ominousness!

Vision: “The energy I detected goes beyond the limits of any known to man! The power flux showed on our screens for a mere fraction of a second, and then disappeared without a single trace. That concerns me... And it should concern all of us! If we cannot discover the source of this energy, there could be catastrophic consequences!”

And to show how seriously he’s taking this, he makes this horrifying face.

He looks like he’s trying to eat Wasp.

I do not care for this. Either the specific panel or the overall idea of someone eating Wasp.

Anyway, Vision and Scarlet Witch goes off to check the super advanced equipment he installed in the monitor room without asking anyone. He’s doing that a lot lately.

Wasp is both annoyed that he went over her head and impressed with his initiative in doing so.

But she has other matters to attend and asks Thor and Cap(tain America) head down for a private meeting with her.

And now the party is kind of over!

Yeah, you ruined it, Vision! You put too many surprises on the surprise party! You could have saved some for later!

Vision and Scarlet Witch went off to the monitor room. Wasp, Cap(tain America), and Thor went off to have an executive meeting. And Hawkeye and Mockingbird slipped away from their own party not long after that!

Leaving Captain Marvel, She-Hulk, Starfox, and Jarvis to stand around awkwardly wondering where the party went. They didn’t even cut the cake yet!

Dammit Vision!

Hawkeye snuck out to the garden behind Avengers Mansion that’s been there all along. And Mockingbird followed to see what’s bugging him.

Hawkeye: “I’ve always loved this spot. Great tree, isn’t it? Ya know, it’s not easy to get an apple tree to grow this big in the city!”

But Mockingbird sees through that and asks what’s really his beef.

Hawkeye: “Aw, it’s just that I can see another membership shuffle in the works!”

Mockingbird: “So?”

Hawkeye: “So, I’m the one most likely to get bounced!”

I like the range of Hawkeye emotions here.

Hawkeye says that since he has a life (marriage) outside the Avengers now, he doesn’t mind so much being cut from the team. But if they’re going to be facing the latest and greatest menace of all times, he wants to face it with them!

Mockingbird: “That was pretty profound... for a guy who’s supposed to be a butt-head!”

Hawkeye: “Well, thank you, Mrs. Butt-head!”

Aww.

This is a fun bit too.

Mockingbird asks if Hawkeye wants to go inside and get some cake but he shoots an apple from the tree and offers Mockingbird one.

Pretty slick, Clint.

Over at the monitor room, Vision is really into monitoring whatever is upcoming. Super into it. So Wanda has to ask a question.

Scarlet Witch: “Darling... Are you sure you’re all right?”

Vision: “What sort of question is that?”

Scarlet Witch: “You’ve been acting so peculiar lately!”

Vision: “Wanda, how do you expect me to act? I’ve just recovered from spending what seemed like an eternity in a life support tube, able to move about only as a holographic image! Before that, my body was possessed by the dying sorcerer, Necrodamus. And that was almost immediately after I’d gone through the agony of losing an arm. Thankfully, the Inhuman scientists of Attilan were able to restore my limb. But you must admit we’ve both been through a score of trails these past few months! And now, I’ve detected something which could be the biggest menace we’ve ever faced! All things considered, is it really so surprising that I’m acting this way?”

Huuuuuh. I mean, he has a point. That’s a lot of shit in a very short time frame to endure.

This could very reasonably be a reaction to it all.

That’s a very unnerving smile though.

Over at the not-secret but private just Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) meeting, Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) are meeting.

Well, really, its more that Thor is recapping the tale of Beta Ray Bill for the other two. But we, the readers, just get an editor’s caption telling us to read Walter Simonson’s Thor (and I don’t need to be told twice) and Thor summing up to the salient point that Donald Blake is gone forever and is definitely never going to come back multiple times.

What Cap takes from this is ‘hey i hope that means you’re back on the team then!’ which Thor affirms.

Thor: “Aye, Captain America! Some of my finest hours have been as an Avenger. It would be the greatest honor to continue my service in your company... if you will have me!

But Wasp isn’t going to dump Thor from the roster!

Problem being, what the heck is she going to do with the roster? She doesn’t want to dump anyone off it, she doesn’t want to tell Vision to eff off, but she doesn’t want to lead an unwieldy team either. Six is a good number of Avengers!

I love Wasp’s note paper where she’s scrawled various roster ideas, clearly getting more and more frustrated with the exercise.

Cap suggests that maybe a temporary expansion would be the best move, if there even is a menace!

He’s somewhat doubtful of Vision’s story but wouldn’t you know it, as soon as he says that, the priority alarm goes off because Vision has detected the Ominous Energy Readings again.... IN CENTRAL PARK!

And lest anyone doubt Vision this time, an enormous and blinding flash lights up the Manhattan skies.

Cap: “I... believe you, Vision.”

Hah.

The Avengers head for Central Park with devices that Vision has created that will help them trace the energy but he could have saved the time.

There’s a big obvious structure that wasn’t there before. Odds are pretty good that that’s the anomaly.

Hmmm... Y’know, that structure looks familiar. As if I’ve seen it somewhere... But wheeeeeeeeeerre. I guess its a secret to everyone.

The sudden appearance of a large structure right after a massive flash isn’t even the weirdest thing going on. As Reluctant Science Guy Starfox waves around the detecting device, he realizes that the Ominous energy isn’t coming from the giant structure. It seems to be coming from everywhere. But it dips as you get closer to the structure.

Starfox posits that the energy is being focused on the ring from another location.

Curiouser and curioserer.

The Avengers poke around some more. Hawkeye calls attention to an arch built into the wall of the structure. It’s just real interesting. It’s super, incredibly interesting. Plus, the air is nice in the arch.

And it’s an arch. It looks like it’d be a doorway or tunnel to the middle of the structure but it doesn’t go anywhere.

Huh.

How fascinating.

She-Hulk, Cap(tain America), Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Thor join Hawkeye in the arch and agree that it’s a pretty interesting arch.

Perhaps this arch was made for them.

As soon as they join Hawkeye in it, there’s another blinding flash of light and those Avengers vanish in a curl of smoke.

Wow.

I can’t believe Hawkeye, She-Hulk, Captains America and Marvel, Wasp and Thor are dead.

Huh. And Wasp was just complaining about having too many Avengers!

Everyone is appropriately shocked by this, especially Vision because there were no energy emissions coming from the thing so it should have been inert.

Scarlet Witch and Starfox wonder whether the missing Avengers have been teleported somewhere, into some other story... or destroyed.

But before they can investigate the structure for clues, or see if it’ll strike again?, the whole thing vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

The plus side is that it makes Starfox lean toward ‘teleported’ which still doesn’t answer where the Avengers have been taken or who would do it.

If it’s the Collector again, I swear!

Here we go... Follow @essential-avengers because I thought I had more time! Oh geez, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this... Also, like and reblog because I like to think I do good work.

#Avengers #Ominous Energy #the Wasp #Captain America #Captain Marvel #monica rambeau #the Vision #Scarlet Witch #Thor #She Hulk #Hawkeye #Mockingbird #Starfox #Vision ruins a party but not how you'd think #Jarvis is the world's best butler #Everyone's shock and alarm that Hawkeye got married #frequent culture shock for Mockingbird #Essential Avengers #essential marvel liveblogging

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that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick · 3 years

Text

I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.

#mysmerbb #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme vanderwood #vanderwood x mc #my writing #my fic #mysme fic #collab #art collab

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