#nah. i still wanted to make her mugshot.

[vayneoc]

Hanako

and Vayne

#otp: of thorns and bellflowers #hanako arasaka #*and vayne* #shippy everyday #nah. i still wanted to make her mugshot. #so let's imagine that since hanako was not much of a public person not many people even know how she looks #like do you clearly remember what 10 wealthiest people's children look like? #yeah me neither #and now we'll just mix it with one jerk of a cop #and here i have an excuse for barbie mugshots! #good job everyone #so here's part 2 #my stuff #my stuff: vp #oc: vayne #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cyberpunk photomode #barbie

[vanillann]

unsolved (spencer reid x reader)

a/n: i was watching buzzfeed unsolved when i came up with this idea so enjoy. also i know it’s not exactly right but i didn’t feel like going back and watching the ep so.

warning: swearing, talk of cases, and sexual innuendos

word count: 3.3k

“Hi, Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved! We’re your host Ryan and Shane.”

I sat in a spin by chair between the two, my legs crisscrossed as I spun as fast as I could with Shane picking at arm.

“This is (Y/N)-“ when I heard my name I dramatically grabbed Ryan’s arm chair, smiling at the camera “a good friend of ours.”

“I had never spoken to either of them before today,” I spoke directly into the camera, the widest smile on my face when Shane gasped.

“She exposed us!” He pointed an accusing finger at me, Ryan slowly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“We need her for this case,” Ryan spoke mysteriously, as if he was in a mob of some sort.

“Yeah why is that?” I rested my elbow on the chair, placing my chin in my open hand as I looked between the two.

I would normally be shoved in the corner of my desk trying to avoid another weird product video. I didn’t want to wear another weight blanket that made me almost fall to the floor.

“We are doing a case today and from the gossip around the office, you’d be pretty familiar with it,” Ryan said nothing more as he held a picture up to the camera.

I looked to the viewfinder, my eyes going wide as I recognized the mugshot immediately.

“That’s the Reaper!” I pointed at the picture, grabbing Ryan’s wrist so I could get a better look.

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” Shane added, looking over my shoulder at the picture in my hand.

“No, the BAU worked in this case!”

I didn’t know my intense knowledge of BAU cases would make it around the office, but I suppose when you have a printed article of you standing with Agent Gideon and Hotchner word moves fast.

“You actually know a lot about BAU cases from what I hear,” Ryan almost smirked at me and I was close to attacking him.

“Yeah-“ I turned to the camera, thinking I should explain myself before people thought I was crazy “so when I was young my mother had a stalker.”

The room suddenly went from light and breezy to scary and stuffy, something I hated.

“Anyways, when my mother died he disappeared into thin air. I then got an internship here at Buzzfeed and suddenly I was being mailed pictures of myself.”

I felt Shane give a knee a quick squeeze, which made me smile but I said nothing about it.

“It is really bad, I’m not going into detail, that the FBI got involved. Gideon was my savior that day, Hotchner too. Since then I’ve kept up with their cases and Gideon still sends me letters even after he left,” I finished my story, smiling down at the case file Ryan held between his fingers.

“Enough sad story, let’s talk about murder!” I clapped my hand, Shane laughing at my excitement.

“Okay, before we get started with this video I would like to clarify this isn’t a normal unsolved case. While the case was pinned to a murderer, the real unsolved piece is what happened to him,” Ryan got into character, slowly opening the folder and reading off the first words.

“On June 5th, 1996, Tom Shaunessy was called to investigate a murder in Boston. It was a couple, laided into their chair with multiple gun shots to their head and torso-“

“Wait, in the car in Boston?” Shane asked.

“That’s what I just read,” Ryan replied.

I smiled to myself, already knowing the editing that would take place with the black screen and the blue and yellow words floating across.

“Isn't Boston super busy?”

“It has like 700 thousand people,” I spoke up, wondering what color my words would be in.

“How do you just know that?” Ryan looked over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows raised.

“If you saw the article I was currently writing you would understand,” I shrugged, moving in the chair so I could get a better look at the case file.

Ryan coughed, looking back down at the file to continue.

“When another set of murders came in, this time an older couple, Shaunessy, panicked as he found the first victim, Harry Goodwill, watching at the scene.”

“That was his signature,” I held a hand up like a child in class, smiling as I already knew what came next.

“Bingo!” Ryan pointed to me, smiling at my excitement.

“When this happened again, this time alone woman, Shaunessy called in the BAU-“

“You mean the love of (Y/N) life,” Shane cut in, smiling when I hit his shoulder.

“If you saw a picture of them you’d be in love too,” I shrugged, not thinking much about my words.

“Agent Aaron Hotchner joined the team and worked closely on this case with Shaunessy.”

“So this man just texted the FBI,” Shane started laughing before he could get his words out.

“I’m pretty sure there are rules,” Ryan looked over at Shane, looking at me when we tried to understand why he was laughing.

“I’m sorry, death shouldn’t be this funny,” Shane took a breath, making a hand motion for Ryan to continue. I started laughing at that, keeping it low so Ryan could continue.

“After 18 murders, there were no leads. The only consistent thing was he mostly killed couples and he left an item from his last victim at the crime scene. The BAU conducted that he was most likely killing the couple because of his own failed marriage or possibly one close to him.”

“So he started killing because he hated to love? I bet he hates Valentine’s Day,” Shane shrugged, his smile breaking across his face when I spoke up.

“Nah, he seems more like a Halloween type guy,” I shrugged, laughing when Ryan hit his elbow on the table.

“Okay okay, back to the good stuff,” I pointed at the file, laughing when Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Now victims 19 and 20 is where the story starts to twist. Amanda Bertram and George Foyet-“ I shivered at the name “we attacked by the Reaper.”

“Did you say attacked?”

“Yes, while Amanda Bertram was killed in the struggle Foyet manages to survive with serious injuries.”

“So this dude just accidentally forgets to kill him?” Shane almost yelled, reaching for the file to read himself but Ryan moved it back.

“He saw the ghost of Valentine and just ran,” I played on the joke earlier, which made the two laugh.

“The heart-shaped boxes of chocolate really made him shit himself,” Ryan barely got the words out, his laugh slowly turning into a cough.

“We shouldn’t joke about a murderer when we don’t know his whereabouts,” I laughed along.

“Wait, you’re telling me they lost him!”

“Yep,” I popped the “p”, smiling when Shane looked to Ryan who only shrugged,

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Was all he said before he continued the case.

“After this no new leads were found, it was later discovered that The Boston Reaper sent Shaunessy a note that if the investigation was shut now he would stop killing,” Ryan read the words off.

“I bet he ended the letter with “xoxo from your worst nightmare” with a lipstick stain,” I spoke without thinking, covering my mouth when I realized what I said.

“Oh he’d definitely come at you now,” Shane pointed at me, wiggling his eyebrows in the process.

“No way! The BAU will save me,” I shrugged, smiling as I imagined the team busting in the door at the last minute like they always did.

“Oh yeah the one dude, what’s his name,” Ryan started snapping his fingers as he thought over his words “Sp-“

“Spencer Reid!” I practically yelled the name, my smile only growing large at the mention of the handsome Doctor from the BAU team. While he didn’t work my case, I heard a little about him and he called my house phone trying to reach Hotch.

To say I was infatuated would be a small understatement.

“Him?” Ryan pointed at him, smiling wider at me.

“Who is this Reid boy and what are his intentions?” Shane folded his arms on the table like a father, looking between Ryan and I.

“I hope it's dirty,” I blurted out, covering my mouth again as I looked at the camera.

“Cut that out,” I started laughing when I heard Shane wheezing beside me.

“No we’re keeping that, that was quality content,” Ryan was laughing, pushing my chair slightly as I slowly joined in.

“I’m so grateful he works a busy job and will never see this,” I started coughing, which made Shane pat my back.

“Please take the obsession back to murder, please and thank you,” I nodded to the case file once everyone has calmed down.

“Okay okay, the cast went cold after that. No new murders ever appeared and the BAU left the case.”

“Spencer went to (Y/N)’s house,” Shane commented quickly.

“Until 2009 when a murder took place right outside of Boston, a couple killed on a hill. While this seemed like nothing at first, an eye was painted on the side of the door and glasses were found on the victim’s face. The glasses belong to Foyet,” Ryan read in his special voice.

“So the dude got bored and was like “Fuck my promise”?” Shane looked between both of us.

“Let him finish,” I patted Shane shoulder, looking at the file again.

“It was later announced to the public that Shaunessy was dead,” Ryan read, looking at Shane with raised eyebrows.

“Ohh, you should have led with that!”

Ryan rolled his eyes, going back to the file in front of him.

“Hotchner took up the case with his BAU team-”

“Spencer had to leave (Y/N)’s house early to get there in time,' ' Shane pushed my shoulder, my finger slowly starting to play with the little ring on my finger.

“I wish,” I spoke up, smiling at Shane when he shook his head.

“The team quickly gathered all the information possible, slowly putting the eye signature on the car with the sign off on the letter.”

“He didn’t sign it xoxo?” Shane asked, I shook my head sadly.

“Sorry to get your hopes up,” I spoke gravely, my mask cracking when Shane started smiling.

“I was readying for him to sign A like that show!”

I started laughing, my hand covering my mouth as Ryan tried to explain the show he was talking about.

“Why do they have to be pretty liars, am I pretty when I lie?”

“No,” I said the words so seriously I was shocked with myself. We all three started laughing suddenly.

I hadn’t been at Buzzfeed long, I had only made a few friends and I pretty much got dragged into the video when they needed a test dummy. This was my first video that didn’t make me want to rip my eyes out, I actually was having a great time with Ryan and Shane with the jokes and all.

“Okay,” Ryan coughed, finally reading the file again,” Many tried to brush it off as a copycat but Agent Hotchner refused to drop the case.”

“That’s my bestie,” I smiled, remembering the photo I had with him when the local news decided to take pictures of us standing outside the station. The photo was awkward and I doubt he even remembered my case but I didn’t really care.

“Then a few hours later an older couple, Arthur and Diane Lanessa, were found stabbed and shot. When the earlier victim, Nina Hale, was found on Diane's wrist, people started to worry.”

“Wait I thought he left the one dude glasses, who is still weird to me,” Shane spoke up again.

“That’s what I’m saying! He had his glasses yet he’s a copycat? Cops can be so stupid,” I rambled, still pissed about that to this day.

“The BAU split up to find Foyet, who went into hiding after his attack, to get more details. Agent Hotchner and Agent David Rossi found him staying in a house in Boston.”

“Why would you stay in Boston?” Ryan was the one to speak this time, his nose scrunched up as he thought it over.

“Right, like yes I almost died here let me stay,” Shane mocked Foyet, which made me laugh.

“Later that night The Reaper boarded a busy bus and killed the occupants of it. Many had theories on why he changed his MO but nobody will confirm or deny.”

“I think he was made at Hotch,” I spoke up. I had thought about this alot.

“Why do you think that?”

“He didn’t quite like Shaunessy, I don’t blame Shaunessy, but still. He stuck around even when he could have walked away,” I crossed my arms, slightly proud of my theory.

“You think he gave the same deal?”

“You don’t?” I looked at Ryan, his arms shrugging before he went back to the case.

“There was a cryptic message left on the side the bus along with the Reaper eye,”

“Cryptic message? Is this real?”

“Unfortunately,” I nodded, looking back to Ryan as he spoke.

“The BAU managed to decipher the code into a line of Foyet addresses-”

“Spender did it!”

“And how would you know?” Shane looked to me, raising his eyebrow at me with a little smirk.

“Because he had an eidetic memory and has an IQ of 187,” I spoke proudly, as if I actually knew the person I was talking about. Okay maybe I searched them on the internet one too many times.

“How do you know that?” Ryan asked, laughing at me now.

“Google,” I shrugged, laughing when Shane looked up from his hands.

“What does he even look like?” I held up my finger, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. I quickly unlocked it, placing my thumb print and moving on, and tapped the searched bar. I quickly typed in his name, thankful it didn’t pop up in purple because I couldn’t handle that much teasing.

“Here,” I placed the phone on the table, laughing when Shane moved closer.

“He has a Wikipedia,” Shane looked over his shoulder at Ryan and I, speaking like a kid on Christmas.

“You both have Wikipedia,” I shrugged, not seeing the appeal of the whole life on display.

“You don’t,” Shane pointed out. I jokily pouted, acting all sad as I looked up to the ceiling.

“We can make you one,” Ryan patted my shoulder laughing when I smiled.

“Can we say I’m married to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

Both nodded at the same time, my hand going over my hand and I laugh at their telekinesis response.

“Okay finished this case so (Y/N) and I can stalk Mr. Reid,” Shane patted Ryan shoulder and I lightly smiled to myself.

He seemed like nothing but I finally made some friends, I mean friends I could talk to outside of work.

“Once they arrived at Foyet house they found gallons of blood pulled from the back of the house.”

“So they killed him?”

“Just wait,” I held my finger up, smiling when Shane deflated slightly.

“Multiple police were attacked, even Derek Morgan with the BAU. The specific are not out to the public but a nurse claimed that The Reaper stole Morgan credentials,” Ryan read off the paper, smiling when Shane gasped.

“That’s insane, this case is insane!”

I laughed along with Ryan, all of ours eye scanning over the paper now and we waited for the next bit of information.

“After looking over past cases filed, the BAU were confused on why The Reaper would kill Foyet. Their tech analysis did research to induce that Foyet had multiple aliases, claimed he had them to feel safe from The Reaper, actually had multiple assault charges, and his parents were killed when he was six.”

“Oh my, he killed them didn’t he!” Ryan and I both nodded, Shane’s hands flying up to his hair as he looked between us.

“It was him the whole time! No way!”

“That’s what I said,'' I looked into the camera for the first time in awhile, it felt nice and easy with them. The video was coming easy unlike trying to do awkward yoga poses with strangers.

“They managed to trace everything back to Foyet, concluding he was The Reaper. After more research, Foyet’s phone was tracked to Roy Colson's house. A journalist would recently wrote an article on The Reaper.``

“This feels like a Scooby-Doo mission at this point,” Shane sounded out of breath, looking to the camera with wide eyes.

“We got some work to do now!” I jokily sang the theme song, making the two laugh lightly before moving on to the end of the case.

“The local police arrest Foyet at the house, Colson thankful survived. Foyet was taken to prison immediately after arrest.”

“I thought they lost him?”

“If you don’t let him finish,” I joked, Shane laughed as we finally let Ryan finish.

“Foyet was found in his cell later throwing up blood and convulsions. As being rushed to the hospital, the ambulance was ambushed and Foyet escaped. No more information has been released on the whereabouts of Foyet.”

“They really lost him!”

Shane was in shock at the discovery, my hand covering my mouth quickly before I answered.

“I bet he’s working for the FBI, they hire people when they’re too dangerous.” I tried my best to be serious about the theory but I knew my smile was peaking thought.

“He’s probably the BAU’s personal hitman!”

I laughed with Ryan, my chair had slowly moved closer to his as I kept leaning to see the case file.

“Where do you think Foyet it?”Ryan spoke into the camera, talking to the people that would watch this in a few weeks.

“I think (Y/N) should call her smarty-pants husband and ask,” Shane spit out his last joke before the video ended.

“Yeah, Doctor Spencer Reid please call me with information about the case.” I pointed into the camera like Uncle Sam and winked dramatically.

“He doesn’t have your number,” Ryan reminded me. I let my finger fall, thinking over my words before I pointed back at the camera.

“Email my business email,” I nodded. Shane and Ryan both hit my shoulder. both hands going to my arm to cover them.

“Say bye to our favorite guest ever,” Ryan waved in my face.

“Bye!”

I laughed as the video played on my laptop, laughing when my voice was replaced with light green words floating on the screen. I scrolled down lightly, reading a bunch of comments. I smiled when most were asking if I would ever be on another Unsolved.

My phone went off beside me, my hand reaching for it as I paused the video and moved to my email. I was waiting for an email about an article I was writing and I couldn’t stop hitting refresh.

Shane: i’ve seen two ship edits of (y/n) and spencer reid on my instagram already

Ryan: i saw an edit of shane fall out a chair

I laughed at the messages, the group chat the three of us had formed titled “The Reapers Bitches” never stopped as we had grown a close bond.

I heard the little ding from my laptop, also most screaming when I slammed the refresh button and screamed when I saw an email with a little unread dot beside it.

I didn’t think twice, pushing the email and reading over it quickly.

From: [email protected]

Hello, this is Doctor Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I recently saw a video of you mentioning me and my team about a case we worked on a few years back. While I legally can’t share any details with you in this case, I would be open to speaking with others. Please email me back!

I was going to scream, maybe cry, maybe both at this point. I read the email two or three more times, trying to comprehend what I just read.

He did see, shit he did see it. I heard my phone going off beside me, my hand picking it up and typing without reading what they were saying before.

Me: Spencer Fucking Reid just emailed me

I let my phone fall to my lap, reading the email one more time.

“Thank you Buzzfeed Unsolved,” I whispered under my breath.

join the taglist!

permanent taglist:

@kittykylax​ @itstaylorcale​ @head-over-heart @marvel-rhapsody​ @accioxtina​ @always-spaced-out​ @carnations-red​ @onetoomanyfilms​ @suranne-doesstuff

criminal minds taglist:

@underscorecourt​ @meowimari​ @mggsprettygirl​

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Surprise Party (Chibs Telford x Reader)

Summary: A  party thrown at the clubhouse has more than a few surprises for you.

Pairing: Filip “Chibs” Telford x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1,5k

Warnings: Really cheesy fluff and my bad attempt of writing in Scottish accent. Apologies in advance.

You weren’t really expecting the party waiting for you when you got to the clubhouse. Then again, wasn’t that the point of a surprise party after all?

You had started your day not really expecting to have to use the brand-new license to practice law you got just last week. And for the most part, it had been a pretty uneventful occasion until right around the time you were about to clock out and Jax called.

There was urgency in his voice as he begged you to head to the sheriff’s station because Tig got into a fight with the owner of a dog fight rink and both men had been taken downtown. You didn’t doubt his story even for a second. Picking up your keys and bag and heading straight to the precinct.  

When you got there, Jax was already waiting outside with a very well composed Tig. Maybe that should have been your first clue that something was off because if he was already gonna post bail, why did he even call in the first place?

You didn’t have time to really consider it because Jax just loaded Tig into the passenger seat of your car and asked you to head to TM. 

You planned to just drop Tig off and head home. You had been working crazy hours, plus studying hard for the test and you were in serious need of some sleep.

“Come on, honey. Let me buy a beer to say thank you,” Tig asked once you pulled up into the lot of the auto shop.

“I didn’t even do anything,” you replied, but for a grown man, Tig’s puppy dog eyes were quite effective.

“One beer,” you sighed in defeat, turning off the engine. You stepped out of the car and followed Tig inside, nearly jumping out of your skin as everyone yelled surprise once the two of you walked into the clubhouse.

Everyone seemed to be there: Gemma, Tara, and her boys. Lyla, Nero, and the rest of the Sons, Chucky, and even some of your friends that didn’t really have anything to do with the MC but made an exception for today and stood awkwardly among the bikers.

Over the wall of mugshots there was a huge congratulations banner and bellow it a table with enough food to feed an army.

“Surprised?” Tig asked, an arm thrown over your shoulders. 

You just chuckled and nodded, still speechless as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and let you greet everyone else properly.

“Congratulations, darlin’,” Jax said pulling you into a warm hug. “Now it’s your job to make sure these mug shots don’t get updated.”

You laughed along with him before letting someone else drag you to the side for a hug and a toast and by the time you managed to reach Gemma, you already had two beers and three whiskey shots that people keep shoving in your hands as you passed them by, along with some food.

“Thanks for all of this,” you said, letting the matriarch of the MC pull you into a hug.

“You’re welcome, baby. It was well deserved,” she kissed your cheek. “But I can’t take all the credit. It was Chibs’ idea.”

You gave her a confused look once she let you go, which she replied with a knowing smirk as she gestured to a point behind you where the Scot was drinking alone by the bar, watching the proceedings.

It was because of Chibs that you met the MC in the first place. He had been in a bar just outside town when your stupid little brother decided it was a good idea to pick a fight while drunk with a few guys double his size. 

Chibs didn’t even know him but had his back, during the altercation and they all got arrested that night. When your brother called you to post his bail, he told you about the other man and you got him out too. After that, you ended up staying close to SAMCRO. 

You had no family besides your younger brother and Gemma took a liking to both of you, taking you under her wing. And since your brother started prospecting, you decided to help out in smaller legal issues when needed. Making sure everyone stayed out of jail.

For a badass gang of dangerous bikers, the Sons were a lot of fun. They took care of their own and for the first time since your parents passed away, you felt like you belonged somewhere. 

And if you favored the attention of one particular VP, with his deep brown eyes, smokey accent, and Glasgow smile, people didn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe they did, if Gemma was any indication, but didn’t comment on it.

You moved towards Chibs, offering him a wide smile, which he returned with one of his own. The sight of it made your heart race and your palms sweat and you tried to dry them as discreetly as possible in your jeans before taking a seat on the stool next to him.

“Congratulations, lass.” He raised his glass to you.

“Thank you and thanks for the party. Gemma said it was your idea.”

“Nah. Just said it would be a good idea,” he waved off your words, looking away from you for a moment and you wished his presence didn’t make you so tongue-tied. “Bu’ I got ye somethin’,” he said, setting his glass down once it was empty and gestured for you to follow him.

You had never been back here before but you knew the some of the guys had small apartments here for whenever they were too tired to go home after a job or too drunk after a celebration. 

Chibs led you to his, and if your heart was already racing before, now it felt like it was about to burst from your chest. The room was nothing special, just a bed pushed against the wall, a writing desk and chair, and a dresser. Too many pictures of almost naked women posing on Harleys, and a small cabinet with a few other essentials.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket while Chibs dug something out of a drawer. It seemed to take forever until he finally turned around to face you and you didn’t think you ever saw him looking nervous, but he looked as bad as you felt.

“‘t’s nothing fancy or anythin’” he started, taking a step closer. “But I saw it and thought of ye. The lass in the shop said you can exchange it if ye dinna like it…”

He offered you a small gift-wrapped box in hand and you took it with shaky fingers and a trembling smile as you undid the bow on top and opened the lid.

You let out a small gasp at the sight that greeted you: a delicate golden necklace rested inside, the pendant a golden justice scale, and a small pink stone. It was gorgeous and so thoughtful and when you glanced up at Chibs again, he seemed to be looking at anything but you.

“It’s beautiful, Filip,” your voice was barely above a whisper and it might be the first time you ever used his given name, but it felt so right. “Thank you.”

“Ye’re welcome, love,” he breathed out, relieved, his smile a little more certain.

“Help me put it on?” You asked, taking the delicate chain out of the box and offering to him before turning around and pushing your hair away from your neck.

His scent surrounded you as Chibs stepped closer, bringing the necklace around your throat, his hands rough and warm, but so very gentle against your nape and goosebumps raised in your arms.

“There ye go,” he spoke once the clasp was closed and you turned around to face him, the pendant resting just below the hollow of your throat and his warm brown eyes lingered there for a few seconds.

“I really love it,” you whispered, touching the scale for a second before your hand moved to his chest, holding yourself steady as you raised to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek.

“Good,” Chibs spoke, his voice rougher, lower and you could feel the thundering of his heart against your hand and the hitch of his breath as you moved your lips closer to the corner of his mouth.

He turned his head slightly and his mouth was against yours, brushing so softly. It was a barely-there touch but it was enough to send sparks of excitement through your body and you couldn’t wait for it to be more.

Before it could, the door busted open making you both jump apart and look over startled. It was one of your friends and by the looks of it, she was completely wasted.

“Ops! Thought it was the restroom,” she slurred, her lips shifting into a smirk as she glanced between your and Chibs. “Carry on.”

She slipped out as fast as she stumbled in and just as unsteadily. A second later, you heard a crash and sighed regretfully.

“I better get out there and make sure she doesn’t cause some serious damage,” you said. “But to be continued?”

“Whenever ye want, love,” Chibs smiled at you. “Ye know where I’ll be.”

xxx

If you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting please. Feedback gives life to us writers! 

#sons of anarchy #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford x you #tommy flanagan #fanfic #soa fanfic

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

LOST - Another Story

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Welcome to The Moth! This one is a bit shorter, there were a lot of Charlie flashbacks in the original episode which means there’s not a lot of on-island writing. Anyways, enjoy!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The Moth

Ah yes, The Moth, another character centric episode meaning there is little for me to do. Maybe since it’s Charlie’s episode I can make friends with him because of his drug detox. I’m sure he doesn’t trust me, but I’m willing to take the chance. I turn my head to see Jack and Kate gather together and I scramble to my feet to join them. Better than sitting in the sand.

“Call me a broken record, but caves are a natural shelter. And a hell of a safer than living here on the beach,” Jack says as I walk up.

“Hey Jack, Kate,” I say as I stick my hands in my pockets, “What’s going on?”

“I was just down at the beach to pick up a few things,” Jack says as he hides Kate’s mugshots.

“Jack you don’t have to hide those from me, I know what Kate has done,” I quickly turn to Kate, “I don’t judge you on it either.” Kate just nods with a small smile.

Kate then turns to Jack, “You're mad at me.”

“No. Kate, I'm -- I just don't understand why you won't come with me. Us. It's maybe a mile up there, if that.”

“We crashed 8 days ago, Jack. I'm not setting up a house here.”

“I want off this Island too, but we both know that's not gonna happen any time soon.”

“Sayid has a plan,” Kate interjects.

“Yeah, to find the source of the distress code, I know,” Jack replies exasperatedly.

“The signal's coming from somewhere on the Island. If we can find it. . .”

Jack cuts Kate off, “The signal has been running on a loop for 16 years, Kate. And the woman that left it, she wasn't rescued. What makes you think it's gonna be any different for us?”

“I believe it.”

“Well, I wish I shared your faith.”

Then, Sawyer comes sauntering up to us, “Wouldn't mind sharing a few things with her myself.”

“What do you want, Sawyer?” Kate asks, annoyed.

“Heard the doctor was vacating the premises,” Then Sawyer spots me, “Oh hey blue eyes fancy seeing you here. Anyway, thought I'd best lay claims to my new digs before somebody else did,” He drops the suitcases I didn’t see at first, “I could fix this place up real good. Might even find somebody to share it with me,” Sawyer looks to me first, then at at Kate.

“I'll talk to you later,” Jack says, apparently hearing enough.  Kate watches Jack leave with a sad look on her face. Sawyer is just smiling, and he waves as Jack leaves. Kate turns to Sawyer with a disgusted look on her face before walking away. I stay.

“So just leaves you then blue eyes?” He says cheekily to me.

“What are you talking about Sawyer?”

“Stayin’ with me of course, our own little abode,” He lifts his arms and stretches his hands out like it’s a fancy vacation rental he’s offering.

“Oh come on Sawyer,” I laugh, thinking he’s joking.

“I’m being serious, at least haul your tent over here.”

I look up at him and narrow my eyes, scrutinizing him. Eventually I drop my shoulders in defeat, “Alright, but you gotta help me.”

“Fair trade for a fine lady,” he winks as he speaks. I shake my head and we trudge our way down the beach towards my tent.

After a while of hauling, Sawyer and I finally get my tent set up back to the way it was. I duck inside and set up my bedding, moving around the airline seats and huffing when it gets stuck. I hear a chuckle and whip around to see Sawyer standing outside my tent. I straighten and cross my arms.

“Mind helping?” I ask, doing nothing to keep the edge out of my voice.

“Nah I like the view,” Sawyer teases and I lunge to smack his arm. He catches my wrist and holds it above my head while he uses his other hand to tickle my side. I squeal and writhe, trying to get away. He only stops when a cough alerts us to Kate’s presence once again.

“Got a laptop?” She asks, arms crossed over her chest protectively. Sawyer drops my wrists and sits down on his airline seat.

“Nope,” he answers simply.

“You're hoarding like a pack rat since the crash and you don't have a single laptop?”

“We are testy. Still upset about your little break up? You and Jacko?”

“It must be exhausting.”

“What's that?” Sawyer asks sweetly. I seem to always be left out of these major character interactions lately.

“Living like a parasite -- always taking, never giving,” Kate answers.

“Well, you got me pegged, don't you?”

“I get it now. You don't want off this Island because there's nothing for you to go back for. Nobody you miss. And no one misses you.”

“Well that’s not true, I’ve got blue eyes here,” suddenly an arm snakes around my waist and I’m pulled into Sawyer’s lap. I land with an ‘omfph’, “and you’ve got Jacko. I don’t need no one to miss. Oh wait now, you're feeling sorry for me.”

“I don't feel sorry for you. I pity you,” Kate pauses and looks to me feeling incredibly uncomfortable on Sawyer’s lap, “and Amelia.”

Sawyer looks hurt, then smiles, then reaches into a suitcase, pulls out a laptop, and gives her the battery. He does this all while I’m on his lap, with his arm securely around me. Man he is doing a lot to keep this act up. For a moment I actually believe he likes me, and my heart flutters in my chest.

“All you had to do was say please,” Sawyer says sweetly. Kate reaches for it, and Sawyer pulls it away and then hands it to her again. Kate takes it quickly and runs off to where Sayid and Boone are gathered.

I quickly scramble off his lap, “What was that for?”

“Just putting on a show is all,” Sawyer replies with a shrug.

“And I had to be apart of it?”

“What? I thought you liked it, your face is red after all.”

I quickly turn away from him and decide to fix my tent, “Just go read a book Sawyer,” I say exasperatedly.

I’m sitting around with Micheal and Boone when Charlie bursts out of the jungle. Oh fuck I forgot. Jack is stuck in the caves. Charlie reaches our group, out of breath. “Hey, hey, we need help,” he pants.

“What's wrong, man?” Micheal asks worriedly.

“It's Jack, he's trapped,” Charlie answers.

“What?” Boone asks as he looks to me. I don’t say a word, blood is rushing to my ears.

“A cave collapsed. We don't even know if he's alive. Come on, we've gotta go,” Charlie says, also looking to me. I stare right back, ready to go.

“Hey, uh, uh, Scott?” Micheal says to someone.

“I'm Steve,” Not-Scott says.

“I'm Scott,” Real-Scott says.

“We've got an emergency, grab a couple of guys and let's go,” Micheal says to the both of them.

“We've got to go, now!” Charlie shouts and I take off running with the group, Boone comes then turns back to Shannon. Suddenly Sawyer is with us, and Charlie stops.

“Wait. Kate. Hey, we have to tell Kate about Jack,” Charlie says, looking around wildly.

“Sorry sport, you just missed her. Her and Mohammad headed into the woods about 10 minutes ago,” Sawyer says.

“Which way?”

“Don't sweat it, amigo. I know which way they went.”

“Yeah, but-” Charlie starts.

“Wait Sawyer-” I interject.

“I'll tell her,” Sawyer cuts us both off, “You just keep doing... whatever it is you do around here.”

“Sawyer!” I shout at him, but he’s already walking away. I whine in frustration.

Charlie looks at me, panicked and I can tell we have the same expression, “Come on Amelia!” He says quickly and we take off running towards the caves.

After running for a while Charlie stops and looks worried, “I-I have to find Locke!”

“Charlie, wait you gotta help Jack-” but Charlie cuts me off.

“I just have to find him okay? Get to the caves to help dig.” He begins to run off and I bounce worriedly. Then I act on an impulse.

“I know about the drugs Charlie!” I shout, and Charlie whips around.

“Of course you bloody do, I’m sure everyone knows.”

“No, I mean, I know because I..” I trail off, not wanting to tell the truth, “I know because I’m a med student and before we crashed I was taking a class on drugs and withdrawals.” I sigh and look at my feet, “Don’t go get your drugs, please.”

“I have to go,” Charlie says and runs off. I let out a frustrated cry and make my way to the caves. Luckily I know the path already.

“Hey listen, Jack, we're going to get you out of there, okay?” I hear Micheal say as I run up. Everyone looks at me as I kneel over and catch my breath.

“What..” I pant and gasp, “What’s the situation?” Then Jack moans and coughs and I smack my hand to my face.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Amelia, right?” I nod as Michael speaks, “We’ll get him out.”

“You better, I’m not fit to be the doc around here!” I try to laugh but it comes out strangled and breathy. I feel so stupid for forgetting this would happen, I could have stopped it, but I’m prepared now to help Jack get out. Charlie be damned.

I help dig, as much as I can. My hands are shaking and sweaty, and I can feel my heart pounding in my throat. Guilt washes over me in waves as another rock slips under my fingers. I’m not making any progress but at least I’m trying to help. Micheal pulls me away from the rocks, and I don’t fight him. He walks away.

“Okay, we can't safely make that tunnel any bigger, but since Jack can't get out, one of us is going to have to go in and un-pin him,” Micheal says. Oh. We were done, he pulled me off because we were done. Right.

“What, crawl through that?” Hurley asks, apprehension clear in his voice.

“I think we need someone smaller,” Boone says, and I can feel his eyes on me.

Jin says something in Korean, and I just look at him. I’m still panting, sweating, and shaking with guilt.

“Dude, we don't understand Chinese,” Hurley says.

“Korean, man. They're Korean,” Micheal tells Hurley, obviously exasperated.

“I'll do it,” a voice says. I whip my head around and I see Charlie. Guilt only sinks further into me. I can’t even be useful.

“Charlie?” Hurley asks.

“No, man. Look, you're still too shook up. I might be able to squeeze through…” Micheal tries to reason with Charlie. I stand up, still shaking on my feet.

“Let him do it,” I say, and Charlie looks at me with an almost proud expression.

“Hey, who's going to take care of your son if something happens,” He begins to say to Micheal, and then he points to Sun, “She's got a husband,” he points to Boone, “he's got a sister,” then, to my surprise, he points to me, “and Amelia is the only other doctor. I'm alone here, no one on the Island. Let me do this.”

Micheal just nods before he says, “Listen, man, go slow. Try not to nudge any of the rocks around you.”

“Anything else?” Charlie asks, now looking apprehensive.

“Yeah, good luck,” Micheal replies.

Boone hands Charlie some water, “Be safe man.”

“Good luck, Charlie,” Hurley calls.

“Good luck,” I whisper to myself.

“Alright, thanks guys,” Charlie says. He looks into the opening, then looks back at everyone. Charlie gives me a nod before he starts to crawl into the tunnel.

Charlie squeezes his way through the tunnel. We all hold our breath as he does. I can slowly feel my heart rate decrease as my sweat finally breaks. Guilt still washes over me, but is reconciled by the fact that I know Jack will be out soon. Suddenly the cave starts rumbling and bits of dirt start falling. Michael and Hurley look in from the entrance of the hole towards Charlie.

“Charlie?” Micheal asks worriedly, “Charlie move! Charlie?” In the small cave opening we can see Charlie crawling as fast as he can to the opening cave-side. Then the tunnel collapses, and everyone stands still, like time stopped. I know Charlie made it, and I know Jack is going to be out soon.

Just then, Kate enters the caves at a brisk pace. I turn around when she does. Panic is clear on her face.

“I say we try again,” Hurley suggests.

“We can't just leave them,” Boone reasons.

“If we don't move, they're going to run out of air,” Hurley says hurriedly.

“Would you stop talking, I'm trying to think,” Micheal snaps.

“Where is he? Where is he?” Kate asks, her face is pale and her eyes are wide with panic. Her chest is heaving, probably from sheer panic and exertion from the run here.

“Kate,” Micheal says.

“Where is he?” She asks again, “Where's Jack?” We all look helplessly at her, and I know that they don't want to tell her.

Hurlue nods toward the now rubble-filled tunnel entrance, “He's in there.”

“Does anyone know if he's alive?” When no one answers she makes her tone more urgent, “Is he alive?”

“We don't know,” Micheal begins, “Charlie went in there through a tunnel that we dug, but it collapsed.”

“Why is nobody digging?” Kate says and she starts digging, we follow but apprehensively. I try to put in my best effort to show that I care. Suddenly my hand slips and I get cut on a rock. I cry out in pain, but bite my lip to silence myself. Fuck, how could I be so careless? Everyone slows down their digging when they hear my cry of pain. Guilt floods my stomach again.

“Hey Kate, you need to take a break,” Micheal says kindly.

“I'm fine,” Kate snaps.

“We've got enough people to dig,” Micheal implores, “You keep going at this pace your going to kill yourself.”

We keep digging regardless, and soon enough Charlie’s hand comes shooting out of the ground. Walt jumps back a bit and Vincent starts to bark.

“Hey, it's the doctor!” Walt shouts.

Jack and Charlie climb their way out of the hole Charlie made. Kate runs up to Jack anf gives him a huge hug. Jack winces, and I remember his shoulder. Maybe I can do some actual good and help him with it later.

“Ow, easy, my shoulder, careful,” Jack chuckles.

“How'd you get out?” Hurley asks, amazed.

“Charlie, Charlie found a way out.”

“Dude, you rock,” Hurley says to Charlie. We all cheer and congratulate Charlie. He looks around at all of us giving him praise. His face is lit up in happiness and I feel my own heart swell as well. I know it would turn out okay, I just wished I could have done something more.

Hurley then goes to get some water out of the stream for Charlie and Jack, he hands some to the both of them. Hurley then turns to Charlie, concern written all over his face.

“Dude, you feeling okay? You look a little…”

“Flu. He's got the flu,” Jack cuts in.

“Oh man, that's rough after all you've been through. Take it easy, man,” Hurley says and he pays Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie looks gratefully at Jack. Locke is back from his hunting and he’s waving a palm frond over the boar which is cooking on a spit. Charlie watches him, and I stand around useless.

“I think I'm going to stretch my legs,” He says to no one in particular.

“This place is cool. Can we live here?” I overhear Walt ask his father. Michael looks over at Sun. She returns his gaze. I turn and is Jack lpoking at the fire. Suddenly a rag is being put over his head. Kate brought him a sling. I laugh to myself.

“Made you something,” Kate says to him.

“Awww. My very first sling,” Jack says, and I feel my heart constrict. One more thing I can’t do. I decide to help my own hand.

“How's that?” Kate asks after helping Jack get situated with the sling.

“Good. Thank you,” Jack says gratefully. I turn away from them and rummage through the medical supplies. I find some alcohol and gauze, how convenient.

I wash my hands in the stream and pour some of the alcohol on my hand. I hiss at the contact, trying to stay as quiet as I can. I don’t need anyone worrying about me, especially not Jack. I can still hear their conversation in the background.

“So these are the safe caves you've been going on about,” Kate says.

“This was a fluke,” Jack explains, “Michael checked out the integrity of the rest of the caves and gave them an okay. So you're heading back to the beach, huh?”

“Sayid should be back there by now and if his plan worked then…”

“Then we're one step closer to getting off this Island.” I’m looking away so I can’t see Kate react, but I know from memory she’s looking down at her feet.

“Thanks for the sling, Kate,” Jack says.

“You're welcome,” Kate replies.

I wrap my hand in some gauze and decide to sleep at the caves tonight. There’s no use in trekking through the jungle at night, even if I know the Island. I shudder at the thought of the Smoke Monster finding me, and then finding out who I really am. Then I’d be in some real trouble. I sit down in front of a fire, staring into it and thinking about the days to come.

LOST

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in updates!

#lost #abc lost #lost fanfiction #james “sawyer” ford #james ford #sawyer ford #james “sawyer” ford x oc #james ford x oc #sawyer ford x oc #lost tv series

[sabraeal]

Hypewired Unsolved Drinking Game, Rule #2: Shirayuki Despairs Over Obi’s Life Choices

Rule #1

Written for @ruleofexception on the occasion of her BIRTH. I thought this would be more ghost hunting and less metrics, but I should have known I couldn’t resist a premise-building chapter.

[Shirayuki] Have you ever heard of the Gardner Museum Heist?

[Obi] Oohhh.

[Shirayuki] *laughs* What was that?

[Obi] Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just... I love heists.

[Shirayuki] You love heists? *laughs* No, I take it back, that doesn’t surprise me at all.

[Obi] *laughs* Come on, who doesn’t love a good heist?

[Shirayuki] This one *is* known as the biggest art heist of its kind.

[Obi] Oh ho ho ho. You’re saying all the right things to me.

The thing about haunted houses-- the real kind, not the ones that hire teenagers to wear stage make up and hold fake chainsaws-- is that they’re hard to book.

“Oh, in my hometown, they hired ex-convicts,” Obi says in the same casual way he says anything vaguely terrifying about his childhood, “and they gave them real, working chainsaws.”

Her jaw drops, face still plastered to her phone’s screen. Soft jazz worms into her ear. “That can’t be true. That has to be a-- a rumor or something.”

“Nah, nah, the farm had a work program with the local prison. I think sometimes they did seasonal work too?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. But it definitely made the hayride more popular. Gave it a real element of danger, you know?”

Shirayuki stares. “And they gave them real chainsaws?”

“Well, they only revved them a little.” He twitches his shoulder, as much of a shrug as he ever gives. “One time a guy hopped on the cart and chopped the bale next to me, but I mean, I probably deserved that.”

She might be sitting down, but oh, she could really do to sit down again. Harder. Mentally. Emotionally. “And you’re sure these were ex-convicts?”

“Yeah, probably.” Not an endorsement ringing with confidence. “I mean, I’m sure they were in for non-violent crimes, at least.”

There are two wolves inside of her, and one of them is pleased to hear about a local business working to place disadvantaged community members, and the other-- well, the other thinks that maybe everyone should be a little more solid on the whole non-violent convictions than they are.

Before she has the chance to suggest it, the phone clicks, and a pleasant female voice says, “Hill House, Donna speaking, how may I help you?”

“Oh, hi, yes,” she fumbles, “I’m Shirayuki calling from Hypewire. We would like to talk about booking your location.”

“Hypewire?” Donna pauses, the good long kind that means she’s probably from a generation that prefers to read its news on paper, and not from a website that has an option to react with emojis. “Oh, did you want to do an article on the house?”

“Ah, something like that.” Obi arches a brow, lips twitching as he crams another Funyon between them. He’s far too distracting to have around while she needs to have thinky thoughts, especially if he’s going to make faces at her. “I’m the producer of Hyperwire Unsolved, and we were wondering if we could possibly do a, ah--” she coughs-- “an investigation? Of the house? For the show?”

“Oh, Hypewire Unsolved!” The woman laughs. “My nephew loves you guys. But don’t you do true crime?”

[Sender]: [email protected] [Recipients]: [email protected] [Subject]: Re: Episode Filming

Thank you for your interest in our venue for an episode. Some of our interns are big fans of your show! However, we have to admit some confusion, as we were under the impression you were a true crime show…

“How’d they get that impression?” Higata grunts, hunching further over his keyboard. His screen in the only light in the editing bay, castling a ghastly glow over his face. “The art department just sent me six different aliens to pick from for the Roswell episode, and now we’re Serial? Come on.”

Shirayuki sighs. “I know. But it seems our more popular episodes are the ones about collar bombers and serial murderers. At least by the metrics”

Higata might only be twenty-six, but he’d be right at home at the VA buffet with the way he grumbles. “You know His Highness over there was talking to me about making true crime and supernatural separate seasons. Something about...keeping views and organizational groups or something.”

“Huh.” She sits back, nibbling on her lip. “It would certainly give me more of a focus each season. What do you think?”

“I guess it’s fine. Two editing credits for my resume for one show’s work is a good deal.” He overlays a shadowy police sketch into the video, shoulders rounded and tense. “What do I know? I just sit in the dark and pick which ghostly visage I want to layer over your audio.”

She leans in with her sunniest smile, squeezing his arm right above the elbow. “And you’re so good at it!”

“I am.” He’s too much of a professional to look away from his work, shifting the same image three pixels over and then three pixels back, but his bicep relaxes beneath her grip. “I am a top tier spooky face picker. All the commenters say so.”

She blinks. “Oh? They do?”

Higata twists in his seat, gaze somehow even more incredulous in the lack of light. “No, Shirayuki, they don’t. But they should.” He gestures to the screen vaguely. “They mostly just talk about how much they want to fuck Obi.”

“OH.” There’s some information she really, really didn’t need. “That’s um, ah--”

“Your job, according to roughly half our fan base.” His mouth hooks into a grin she does not enjoy. “What do you say, Lyon? I think we could break the bank if you kissed him once on camera.”

“I-- I mean--” it’s a ridiculous request, clearly a joke, but her heart is pounding so loud in her ears she can’t hear her own thoughts-- “that’s not really w-what the show is about.”

Higata laughs. “That’s what you think.”

“What does who think?”

Shirayuki jumps straight out of her chair.

It’s not an exaggeration; there’s literal air between her butt and the seat, and when she lands again, the soft cushion makes the most obvious whoosh noise in existence, only worse, since it’s slow too. No obnoxious whoopee cushion womp, oh no, just an endless, air pump whoosssssshhhhhh that’s as blatant as a rattlesnake in the silence.

“Obi!” His lean shadow fills the doorway—wow, is he actually that tall?—and his head tilts, just enough so that his eyes shimmer gold. “I—nothing! We were, um, nothing?”

“We were talking about true crime,” Higata supplies, darting her a pitying look, “and how that’s what everyone thinks we are. Winchester House just emailed back.”

Obi grimaces, teeth flashing white in the dark. “Ah, great. Another one of those.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, deflating into a slouch. “I could talk about Big Foot until I’m blue in the face, but everyone thinks I have nuanced opinions about Jeffrey Dahmer.”

One narrow brow arches toward his hairline. “But you do have nuanced opinions about Jeffrey Dahmer.”

“I just think animal mutilation is probably a sign things aren’t going right in your life and someone should have noticed.” She waves her hands, at a loss. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to explore a supposedly haunted house.”

His lips twitch, right at one corner. “For a skeptic, you’re really into the idea you could see a ghost.”

“Stories are part of the human experience,” she explains primly. “We use them to understand what feels inexplicable. And ghosts are part of how we compartmentalize death.”

“Or they are the remnants of people who died too soon.” Obi pushes himself off the jamb, sauntering over to where they sit. “Or whatever bad juju is left by human misery—hey, that’s a sweet mugshot. Who’s it supposed to be?”

Higata squints. “I keep thinking it might be Shiira? But the cheeks are all wrong.”

“Huh.” Obi leans between the two of them, nose hovering mere inches away from the screen. His arm presses into her shoulder, too warm. “Brecker.”

“Brecker?” Higata tilts his head. “Oh yeah, I see it now. He’s not gonna like that.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Good thing he doesn’t watch joyless tripe like Unsolved then.”

“Yeah.” Higata snickers, raising the opacity. “Good thing.”

Obi settles back on his heels, hand gripping the back of her chair. She dares a glance up, and there he is, watching her with one of those looks she doesn’t know how to read. “Don’t worry, Lyon,” he says, thumb rubbing at the plastic back. “The season’s only just started. Give it some time.”

“I’d love to,” she mutters, tilting her head back, resting it on his wrist. “But try explaining that to Izana.”

[Obi] I’m just saying, there’s no sexier crime than a heist. ...Well, I mean, that doesn’t involve actual sex.

[Shirayuki] *wheeze*

[Obi] You know what I mean.

[Shirayuki] Do I? Am I finding out too much about you right now? Is this how you get seduced at parties? Girls just cornering you and telling you about high-profile robberies?

[Obi] *laughs* This is absolutely not how I get seduced at parties. Unless you’d like to try...?

[Shirayuki] . . .

[Obi] Besides, it’s not like this is just a regular robbery. Heists don’t happen to normal people. Just the rich ones.

[Shirayuki] Well, this *is* a museum. It’s for learning purposes.

[Obi] Oh, like all that stuff actually *belongs* to a museum anyway.

[Shirayuki] Actually...this time it does!

[Obi] Wow, now there’s a mystery I want to investigate.

“We want to capitalize on the energy from this season.”

Izana isn’t a man who lounges; his mesh office chair is relentlessly ergonomic, only a few aggressively rolled lumbar supports away from a torture device. But still, he gives off the energy of a cat lazing in a sunspot, already gotten into the cream.

“Unsolved has always had excellent metrics, but since the premier--” he glances pointedly at Obi-- “they’re unparalleled by any other digital media Wisteria has put out on any of its platforms.”

Obi sprawls in one of the wire-frame chairs Izana has out, far too big for its delicate frame, every inch of him as still as the grave. Except for his one, bouncing knee, practically vibrating as he asks, “That’s...good right?”

“Very good.” Shirayuki may not be a metrics person, but working with Zen gave her more than a passing acquaintance with what success sounds like. “I think he’s telling us...we’re his cash cow.”

Izana’s lips lift into a smirk. “Just so. You’re more popular than Stand the Heat, and that’s saying something.”

It is saying something-- Obi’s show consistently has the most hits and the highest likes-to-views ratio. It’s been the backbone of Hypewire’s digital media section since it premiered last year, and now-- now Unsolved has passed it. If the graph Izana’s laid out is right, they’ve passed it by...a lot.

Shirayuki sneaks a glance at Obi as he leans over, taking in the numbers. She can’t move, can’t even breathe as he stares, eyes rounding as he understands what’s happening.

He rips the paper off the desk, shaking it at her. “Do you see this?”

She blinks. “Y-yes?”

His mouth breaks into a grin, like a Labrador who has found a particularly giant stick. “We’re awesome.”

“Oh,” she breathes, and wow, this is really not the time to think about the-- the Abayan effect, even if that smile makes it extremely hard not to. “Okay.”

“We should have you on the show.” His knee bounces a mile a minute, words barely keeping pace. “See if that makes the ratings draw even.”

Shirayuki stares at him, but there’s no hint of sarcasm, no undertone of agitation. For all intents and purposes, it seems as if he’s just...inviting her on his highly rated cooking show.

That can’t be right.

“Not a bad thought, Abayan,” Izana hums, fingers tapping at the desk. “Turn that in to me with the rest of your proposals for next season.”

Obi grins. “No problem, boss.”

“Wait.” This is all happening too fast; it’s all too much. Three weeks ago she was scrambling for a new co-host, and now she’s sitting next to Hypewire’s media darling, talking about how she needs to be on his show for his ratings. “I don’t-- we shouldn’t--”

“Oh, can you not cook?” Obi smiles, and it’s-- entirely too much. “Don’t worry, Lyon, you’ll be on top when I’m done with you.”

“N-no!” she chokes. “I-- I’m the daughter of a bar! I mean, my grandparents--” ugh, four years to get a journalism degree, and she still can’t word good-- “they owned a pub.”

“Great.” His teeth flash, half-feral. “Then you’ll know how to follow my lead.”

“I think,” Izana says, tipping her a speculative look, “that Shirayuki is less worried about her prowess in the kitchen, and more about what these sort of numbers might mean to a show like Unsolved. Isn’t that right?”

“Ah, I mean...” It’s terrible how good he is at his job. “It’s all so...quick. We’re still editing this season, and already I’m working on the ideas for next one, and I have to not only write scripts but also scout locations, and Higata is already stretched thin--”

“We’ll get you another editor.”

Her jaw drops. “W-what?”

Izana folds his hands, so calm, and tells her, “We’ll get you another editor.”

Shirayuki stares, mouth utterly dry. It had been a struggle to get Higata last season; after Obi had roasted the idea during Pitch Fight, Hypewire’s higher-ups had been loath to put any actual support behind Unsolved. Only his dogged enthusiasm-- and flagrantly working on the project behind their backs-- had gotten him on board after the pilot took off. And now Izana Wisteria was just handing her someone else. Personally.

She reaches down and pinches herself. Yep, this is-- this is real life. Somehow.

“You want to-- you mean that--” she gulps-- “you want to give Unsolved a team?”

He nods, brusque and efficient. “I can get you another researcher as well. Or if the locations appear to be a problem, perhaps a personal assistant?” He lifts a hand, a Wisteria shrug. “Just let me know your needs, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Unless it’s time, right?” Obi asks wryly. “That’s straight out.”

Izana’s mouth stretches into the barest grin. “The internet is instant, I’m afraid. You have to strike while the iron’s hot. I hope--” he fixes her with a meaningful look-- “we are all able to make the best of this opportunity.”

kisskissfall4luv: does ne1 no f this guy is gonna b here 4 the hole sesson? i luv Zen but i lik the nu guy 2 hes so funny!

kayla0202: I hope he is! I never thought I’d like something as much as Stand the Heat, especially a show about aliens and weird crime, but Obi and Shirayuki make me tune in every week! How long are Unsolved’s seasons again??

unsolvedjunky42: There’s only one other season, and that was 12 eps, though a lot of those were 10 minutes long, and these ones are averaging 17-20min. It looks like Obi Abayan is credited as co-host for the rest of the season: [follow link] So glad he signed on, I thought Unsolved would be dead in the water without Zen but Obi brings a whole new dynamic I didn’t ever realize the show was missing.

zenluvr999: i no were only 3 eps in but i think im gonna need a new name lmao

“Ah, I understand, but we really are looking to--” Shirayuki clenches her stress artichoke, its plush petals ballooning out from between her fingers, and stifles a sigh. “Yeah, I see. Thank you.”

The call cuts off with a beep, too cheerful a sound for its finality. Another opportunity lost. Shirayuki spills over her keyboard, groan lost beneath the function keys.

“Going that well, huh?” Kihal barely spares her a glance, but she does pull aside a headphone; the way editors show they care. “Tell me again how much you love this job.”

“I do love it,” she insists, muffled by the cool metal of her desk. “It’s just...so much work.”

“You know, we could just get that personal assistant.” Higata drops his headphones around his neck, settling back in his chair. It creaks beneath him, protesting his slouch. “I still can’t believe you said no to that.”

“We don’t need another team member.” Shirayuki lifts her head, just barely, to give him a warning glance. “We already have Kihal. That’s more than enough.”

“Really? We still have half a season left to edit, you have another season to write, and you want to tell me we couldn’t use another set of hands?” His eyebrow twitches up toward his hairline. “You just love making all those phone calls, huh?”

“It’s not that.” She rolls back, lifting herself upright. Her spine reminds her sharply that it doesn’t like doing that, that it was having a fine time as she was, but if there’s one thing Shirayuki knows how to ignore by now, it’s a complainer. “Unsolved was my idea to begin with, and if we can’t do the proposal we submitted last week, it should be me who’s to blame for it, not some poor intern.”

“She’s so cute,” Kihal coos across the cluster. “She’s got morals and everything.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Higata deadpans. “Didn’t you unionize the Yuris office?”

Her teeth flash predator white between the crimson stain of her lips. “Why do you think I volunteered to work this gig?”

He sighs, long-suffering. “See, this is the problem: the both of you like working too much. It’s getting in the way of having someone fetch my coffee for me.”

Shirayuki levels her best glare at him, the one she’s honed from one too many long nights in the editing bay. “If we had a PA, their job would not be to get you coffee.”

“If we had a PA, their job would be to make these stupid phone calls so Shirayuki can get actual work done,” Kihal informs him with a playful superiority than makes his eyes roll. “Instead of spending all day in a fugue of sadness and misery because no one will take her seriously.”

Shirayuki almost protests—there’s no fugue, and if anything, the rejections just make her more desperate and determined, but—

Her list of high-profile options has been reduced by a half, red lines spiking through some of her best hits with no relief in sight. She is about two seconds from eating her feelings through the oversized cinnamon buns in the company vending machine, and a fugue state is starting to sound like a preferable way to spend her afternoon.

“Ugh,” she decides, and lays down again.

“There, there,” Kihal croons, patting her back across their desks. “Someone will have to give you the time of day at some point.”

“I’m getting calls back.” She rolls over onto one cheek, thoughtful. “People are fans of the show! They just...don’t think we’re serious.”

Kihal scoffs. “About what? Aliens? Ghosts? I’ve been fielding queries all morning from Shuuka asking which direction we want to go for The Alexandria episode.”

“It’s the whole ghost hunting angle.” Higata leans over, liberating her artichoke from her grip, tossing it between his hands. “If I want to be fair, which I don’t, but here we are—it’s a new direction for the show. I guess it could be confusing to people used to our format.”

“I know, I know.” She pillows her chin with her hands, letting out a sigh. “I just wish one of them would give us a confirmation instead of—“ she waves her hand at her empty schedule—“all this.”

“They will.” She doesn’t know where Higata unearths all this unearned confidence, but she’s glad one of them has. “Let this season run its course. Zen was never big on the supernatural episodes, but these ones with Obi...people are definitely going to pay attention.”

He wouldn’t be saying that if he had to suggest waiting to Izana Wisteria. “They’re already paying attention to Obi. I’m always getting asked if--”

“If I’m as handsome as I look on screen?”

The thing is-- she’s not expecting it. One minute she’s sprawled across her desk, and the next Obi’s purr is tickling her ear, and--

“Ow, fff--” his gaze darts over where he clenches his nose-- “fudge. Sicles.”

“Nice save,” Kihal deadpans. “Now if only you could do that in the first minute of every video.”

“What can I say,” he honks, rubbing his nose. “I’m an off-the-cuff kind of guy.”

“You’re a ‘ruining our monetization’ kind of guy,” she shoots back, though she pushes over an abandoned chair for him to sit on.

“Oh, Obi!” Shirayuki yelps, hands hovering on either side of his face as he sits. “I’m so sorry! I was just--”

“Surprised, yeah, got that part.” he lifts his fingers, wobbling the bridge of his nose. “No harm done.”

“Good thing,” Higata mutters, “that face gets views.”

“Oh please.” Obi grins, devastating as always. “Chicks love a broken nose.”

Kihal barks out a laugh. “When it comes to you, chicks love breathing.”

He shrugs, sliding into a slouch. “Still no luck, I’m guessing?”

“None,” Shirayuki confirms. “Though people have been saying they enjoy the new season.”

“The concierge at the Roosevelt says you’re a lot cuter than Zen,” Kihal offers, needlessly.

Obi’s grin widens, wolfish. “You don’t say.”

“Maybe you should start using that Abayan charm to get us some bookings,” Kihal suggests wryly. “Earn your keep around here.”

“Please, I earn my keep. I’m the eye candy.” He winks. “Besides, I’d be happy to, but the big boss over here always tells me--”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Shirayuki says, “it’s really my job--”

Higata waves a hand, long suffering. “You see the problem.”

“I do.” Kihal settles back. “Well, if you really just need a place...”

“I’ll take anything at this point,” she says to the particleboard of the ceiling. “Even if it’s just a haunted hole in the ground.”

“All right, well--” Kihal grins, sheepish-- “my condo is haunted.”

[Obi] So you’re telling me that this is just some crazy lady’s house, filled with all her stuff?

[Shirayuki] Isabella Stewart Gardner was a socialite and a philanthropist, *not* a crazy lady.

[Obi] Right, okay, but...she did turn her house into a museum, and then made everyone promise not to touch it. Not exactly what I think of when someone says ‘stable.’

[Shirayuki] Because she *curated* it, Obi!

[Obi] So what you’re telling me is that she knew that from forever to the end of time, she would have better taste than everyone else on the planet.

[Shirayuki] *sputtering* W-well--

[Obi] No, no, you’re right. I retract the crazy lady thing. Because that’s *baller*.

[Shirayuki] *laughs* O-obi!

[Obi] I want to be that lady. Like that is shade from the grave.

[Shirayuki] . . . . She also was personally friends with Monet.

[Obi] SEE? Life goals.

“So,” Obi hums from around a dumpling, his chopsticks already rooting for another, “what do you think?”

Shirayuki looks up, halfway through a very un-dainty bite of her own. “About--? Oh! I can’t believe they’re only fifty cents each! Where did you find this place?”

Despite his reputation on camera-- forward-facing, casual, intimate-- Obi isn’t someone who looks at people head-on. She’ll catch a glance sometimes, or maybe a considering look from the corner of his eyes, but for the most part, he’s always moving, eyes darting around to watch who filters into a room, or at the cars moving outside, or staring down the squirrel that likes to scratch at their window.

So when he looks at her, gold eyes trapping her as thoroughly as amber, she notices.

“Well,” he says after a long moment, “when you run a food show, people do give you some hot tips. But, ah--” he rubs at the back of his head, ears pink at the tips-- “that wasn’t really what I, ah, meant.”

Her mouth rounds. “Oh.”

His hands raise, chopsticks knitted under his knuckles. “Though I’m glad you like it! It’s, ah, one of my favorite places too. I just thought that you might have some, er--” he grimaces-- “thoughts, about the whole haunted condo thing.”

“Oh! That.” She taps her chopsticks on her plate, trying to gather her thoughts. “I just think...I don’t know. It’s not a bad place to start, but I just wanted...”

She blows out her cheeks on a sigh. “The ghost hunting is a new aspect of the show, and I wanted us to come out strong with an actual location...”

His mouth curls at a corner, too knowing. “And having us just carry around proton packs and talk about cold spots in a friend’s house isn’t really going to do much for our supernatural cred?”

“Yeah.” She slumps against the chair, defeat. “That. But I also feel like beggars can’t be choosers, and no one else is telling us yes, so...”

He nods, mouth pressed into a thoughtful line. “So there’s no rush to say no.”

“Right, yeah.” She glances at him from the corners of her eyes. “How about you?”

Obi blinks, eyes fluttering wide. “Me? This isn’t really my--” he hesitates, mouth working, starting a half dozen words-- “ah, I mean, I think...it’s smart. You’re right, a bigger place will give us more credit, but if one doesn’t come through then we have to start somewhere. Besides,” his mouth tics at a corner, twitching toward a smirk-- “I’ve always wondered whether she’s bikini or boyshorts.”

It’s only when her chin hits her chest that she realizes her jaw has dropped. “We’re not there to look in her underwear drawer!”

“Well, we’re not at work for her to look in my gym bag either,” he replies, sour, “but she did anyway.”

“She already said that was an accident--”

“--a likely story--”

“--That’s not what I meant anyway,” she admits with a huff. “I wanted to know if you were okay with the whole, ah...” her shoulders round, shy-- “metrics thing.”

“Metrics?” His head cocks, quizzical, but then-- “you mean, the stuff Izana showed us weeks ago?”

“Two weeks ago,” she corrects, heat flaring on her cheeks, “and, um, yes. I just...you’re not mad?”

Obi stares. “About what?”

“Unsolved.”

He shakes his head. “You’re...really going to have to be more specific than that.”

“The ratings.” She pokes at a dumpling, miserable. “Stand the Heat-- that’s your baby isn’t it? You pitched it and everything.”

“I...did?” he says, brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just-- Unsolved is doing better.” It’s not bragging, she knows that, but it feels like it. “And it’s-- it’s okay if you’re, um, upset about it. You’ve been doing this for--”

“OH.” Obi coughs, suddenly looking anywhere but at their table. “No, I really-- you don’t need to worry about that. At all. Please.”

She stares. “Obi, it’s okay. I’m not going to take it personally if you--”

“Kid, please,” he begs, holding up his hands. “It’s nothing. I mean, yeah, if Stand the Heat was on top, I’d be happy. I mean, I was happy when it was on top. But, this is...” his fingers twirl his chopstick mindlessly-- “this is good, too.”

“But--”

“Listen, I know you may find this hard to believe, especially with how we, uh, met, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a huge fan of the show. Not even a little. Understated it, in fact.” The tips of his ears flush. “So, uh, it’s kind of cool that I joined my favorite show, and now it’s super popular. That’s sort of the whole fanboy dream, right?”

“O-oh!” She stares down at her hands, willing them to stop trembling. “I, uh...I didn’t...I didn’t really think of it like that.”

“Yeah, well, now you know you don’t have to worry about it,” he says with a laugh. “I’m living the dream here. Not only am I on the show, but I’m more popular than the last guy. And I get to take the cute host out to lunch and call it business. The only square I need to finish fanboy bingo is getting to ki--”

His teeth snap down, so loud she hears the click. “Haah, never mind. Hey look, is that the waiter? Could we, ah, get the check?”

[Sender]: [email protected] [Recipients]: [email protected] [Subject]: Season 3 Hard Proposal

Is there any reason this isn’t in my inbox already?

Shirayuki closes her inbox with a grimace. “Ah, hey, Kihal?”

Her editor looks up, brows raised. “Yeah?”

She licks her lips, bracing herself. “Just...how haunted do you think your condo is?”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #buzzfeed unsolved AU #ghost hunting got pushed back for FREESTYLE FLIRTING #so i'm sure none of you will complain #but also I had lots of thinky thoughts about how i didn't want to push aside the show aspect to do just the romance #since the manga focuses hardcore on her career #listen guys the second chapter of fics is always the hardest because then you're thinking of TONE and OTHER STRUCTURE THINGS #esp since i wasn't sure if i would expand this beyond a one shot #so i had to decided if this was gonna be straight up rom com business #or whether i wanted to be shirayuki making this show work as it sort of grows beyond the two pony operation she had before #and also here is her hot co-host she keeps accidentally flirting with oh no #obviously i'm going the second route here #so ENJOY

[punkscowardschampions]

Liam & Edie

Liam: [okay so wrong number text which isn't actually we know, which is just the location of some illegal rave moment that she'll wanna go to] Edie: treasure? ❌🗺 Liam: wooden leg would be useful to hide all the treasure we're bringing in Edie: Gutted I don't know anyone who's ever had an abscess go full necrotic ☠ Edie: and who wants to cart around a treasure chest Liam: don't wanna do your share of the heavy lifting, big surprise Edie: is it? Liam: outgrow this pussy behaviour before tonight as a favour to me Liam: I don't wanna cart that much dead weight about Edie: As I remember it, you owe me though Liam: your memory's in the 🚽 Liam: I owe nobody nothing Edie: yours is selective Edie: can't even get 11 digits down Liam: a barcode's got 12 & I told you it's your business if you wanna walk round inked like you've only lived that many years that's your lookout Liam: not holding your hand Edie: even more gutted, no doubt Edie: 💔 Liam: if you won't be talked out of it, put it on your balls where no-one'll see it Edie: Will you think I'm tough then? Liam: what kind of gay shit is this? Edie: 😂 Edie: go easy on your mate Edie: you got the wrong number Liam: fucked the 11 digits Liam: that's what you were trying to say Edie: mhmm Edie: that's what I said Edie: but a barcode tattoo is a shit idea Edie: agreed Liam: sick of being the voice of reason around here Edie: I find it's more entertaining to let people make the bad decisions, personally Liam: would be jokes until I look a sad twat by association Liam: wants it on his head Edie: 🙄 what's it gonna say, product of the system? Edie: pretty sure a serial killer has already done that Edie: or some shit rapper Liam: he is a shit rapper Liam: [link] Edie: oh Edie: I know him Liam: serious? Edie: by association Edie: I'm a less shit musician in general, not that that's any brag Liam: can I get a listen or you're just here to promo to set me off on a ❌🗺 as payback? Edie: depends Edie: who's heading the rave you linked? Liam: [deets] Edie: alright Edie: you're not 12 like your pal Edie: [links him her music] Edie: [definitely pictures and videos along with, as if you don't know who she is but pretending you don't lol] Liam: come tonight instead of him Edie: talking to strangers is one thing, boy Liam: you leave the bad decisions to everyone else Liam: don't sound as entertaining as it could be Edie: I meant for your safety Edie: could be anyone Liam: be full of nobodys and anyones when we get there Liam: I'm still gonna go Edie: what makes you stand out? Edie: as you ❌ the barcode Liam: when I track you down, I'll listen to your opinion about me Liam: I'm bragging before then Edie: 🤞 we can't hear much of anything over the bass Edie: not that you're intriguing enough to show up for Edie: but the invite is sound Liam: you'll still know what I think, never had an issue with body language over bass Edie: I think I can guess already Liam: 👌 guess Edie: don't take a mind reader Edie: body language and 💭 are one in the same Liam: it don't take a mind reader when you know you're beautiful and talented Edie: ha leave it out Liam: 🧯 Edie: less of that as well Edie: not a wet blanket Liam: 🧨 Edie: that I like Liam: buying 🎇🎆 if you have any requests Edie: [all the party drugs not in code 'cos we're not bothered] Liam: 👾 Edie: NOW I look forward to 👀 you Liam: guessed it Edie: what gave it away? Liam: the vids you linked me to Edie: that's your review? Edie: at least give me some ⭐s Liam: 3.5 Edie: 👌 Liam: I'll give you another 1/2 when the anti barcode tat song drops Edie: what about the other whole? Liam: get him on the track Edie: 😂 Edie: you're on Liam: 👌 Edie: thank god for the edit Liam: & that only you're allowed to freestyle it rule we just invented Edie: good thing I'm more talented than even you are demanding Liam: I'd agree but you've heard it once & you weren't a fan Edie: you can agree when you see it in person Edie: I don't do this online fake shit Liam: I'll have my turn at looking forward to 👀 you Liam: more than down to Edie: good luck Edie: I can't find any cars with spare seats, so it's gonna be a crowd clearly Liam: yours is in if you want his Edie: how will I get my freestyle if he can't catch a ride? 🤔 Liam: shit like that is what earns you the rest of the ⭐s Liam: talent's not just Liam: 🎤🎧 Edie: yeah, I'm well kind and considerate Edie: known for it Liam: good thing I am Liam: [pic of all the drugs he has picked up] Edie: 🤪 Liam: got a 🐷 mask to fit in post raid, can stick it on early if 🥴 isn't doing anything for you Edie: 💡⭐ Edie: if you can't hang with your gurn we can't hang, like Liam: [a gorgeous gurning pic from a previous rave moment] Edie: fit Liam: ha ha ha Edie: don't act like you don't know Liam: I do 👌 out of my mugshots Edie: convince him to get that tatted instead Liam: too gay Edie: alright I'll do it Liam: before or after you take his seat Edie: if you tell me your name I'll save you a spot to earn mine Liam: Liam Edie: alright, Liam, thanks for not having a long and hard to spell name Edie: give me 🖐 Liam: you can have 3.5 again Edie: [purposely leaving it a full five before coming back with his name stick n poked and then a shoddy box for the mugshot portrait to go in] Edie: tada Liam: 👏 Liam: I didn't think you would Edie: if I say I'll do something, I will Edie: why not Edie: loads of Liam's in this town Liam: don't act like it's a standard trick to pull Liam: he's been oohing & ahhing for months over identifying as frozen peas when his face gets scanned Edie: it's a win-win for me, no need to think on it Edie: either you end up being sound, then it's a memory attached, or I get a cool story about getting a tattoo of a mugshot to get a lift to a rave to tell my grandkids Liam: I wanted you to sit next to me 5 mins ago, I can be impressed, can't I? Edie: I accept impressed Edie: and 👏 of course Liam: what did it feel like? Edie: it's somewhere between a scratch and a burning sensation Edie: but deeper Liam: you'll have to do me Liam: I like the sales pitch Edie: what do you want? Liam: what can you do? Edie: on you, a lot better than I can myself Edie: anything you want, I'll make it happen Liam: thanks for accepting impressive Edie: I intend to be so I can Edie: not here to disappoint Liam: I only was willing to be when I thought I was talking to that little bitch boy Edie: no gay shit Liam: unless you like one of the girls in the car Edie: ha Edie: we'll 👀 obviously Edie: where you starting out, anyway, and when Liam: [a time and place, I like to imagine it's a longish drive to give them time to #bond UGH] Edie: [and usually is to go to a middle of nowhere moment so agreed[ Edie: I'll be there Liam: would make me laugh if you don't show now Liam: longest chat I've had for ages Edie: even if I missed you 🚗 I've hitched before Edie: and it's been ages since I've been to a decent party so Liam: my pic could've fooled you but that last one was shit Liam: got a better feeling this time Edie: I feel you Edie: 💊🥤 just makes it tolerable Edie: down to 👀 yeah? Liam: Yeah Edie: better go find my glitter and gemstones out ✌ Liam: I feel you, will take me a while to paint my 💪 UV Liam: not got as steady a hand as you Edie: damn, that was almost impressive Liam: I'll work on it Edie: your steady hand or your bragging about your 💪? Liam: which one's letting me down the most? Edie: 🤔 Edie: you don't need to tattoo me yourself Edie: you are good looking enough you could get away with being cockier, go with that Liam: 👌 but now you've made me wanna tattoo you myself Edie: maybe Edie: if you think of a good idea, we'll overlook the shaky lines Liam: I'll try & think of an idea where wavy lines are part of it Edie: smart Edie: I like it Liam: 🌊 or something Liam: but less shit Liam: 📻 ones maybe Edie: you have any? Edie: professional ones, like Edie: you asked what stick n poke felt like so obviously not Liam: spend my money as fast as I have it Liam: what are you gonna charge me? Edie: what else are you gonna do with it though Edie: see how nice or poor I'm feeling Liam: I won't let the 💊🥤 run out, you'll feel a lot better than nice Edie: deal 🤩 Liam: be me blinded by your glitter & gems Edie: not actually my first rave Edie: but I can raid my little sister's shit if that's part of the deal Liam: see you in a 👑 will I? Edie: that's just standard day to day tbh 🤷 Liam: how many raves have you done? Edie: I've tried not to be in at the weekend since I was like 12 myself so Edie: enough that I know there's nothing fun or attractive about freezing your tits off in a neon bikini in a field Edie: what about you, you're [the year he'd be in which is either 2nd to last or last, either way], right? Liam: hasty to go with unattractive Liam: but yep, you're not wrong Edie: 😏 Edie: I get it, you wanna match 💪 Liam: no gay shit, your own words Liam: I didn't go to my first one until I was like 15, still not impressing anyone here Edie: me either Edie: middle child syndrome or whatever Liam: trade you oldest and only son if you want it Edie: Attention is grand and all but too much parental attention isn't what I'm aiming for Liam: can't offer you it Liam: my parents attention is elsewhere Edie: yours still together? Liam: nah Edie: oh good Edie: wouldn't know what to do with a dad Liam: not lots you can do with mine Edie: might be stuck being ourselves for the foreseeable anyway Edie: not a convincing freaky friday/parent trap situation you and me Liam: shame I won't get to 🎸 & lay down a track with your talent Edie: just buzzin' off all the things I could lift obviously 💪 Liam: this where I get cocky like you said? Liam: go on about how much I can Edie: you could Edie: but I'm clearly impressed before you need to use that tactic Liam: it's too desperate Liam: we both know I can pick you up if you get stuck in the mud later on Edie: we both know it's every man for himself when the 🐷 show Liam: I got you a mask Liam: yours has lipstick and more eyelashes, so we know Edie: thank god Edie: fragile femininity anyone? Liam: prefer toxic masculinity Edie: same Liam: 👍 Edie: if the daddy issues weren't glaring the 👑 will make 'em blinding Liam: we can pretend that since you're with me no-one'll be looking at you if you want Edie: the freedom Liam: I'll give you 🛢🧨 to play with Liam: 🔥 will take the attention Edie: really? Liam: 🎇🎆 wasn't only a code Liam: I do have some Edie: 🤩 no joke Edie: I wanna blow shit up Liam: that's all I ever wanna do Edie: yeah Edie: feel that too Liam: if you can capture 🔥 in a tat that'd be something worth considering Liam: not in a gay way like 🎲💀♠ Edie: that's overplayed, and doesn't mean anything Edie: I'll do some designs, providing I make it home alive Liam: supposed to see my dad tomorrow for the first time in months, don't think I'll rush back Edie: 🛢🧨🎇🎆 why would you Liam: don't feel you have to either, unless you're catfishing me Edie: I'd pick someone else if I was Edie: and you accidentally texted me Liam: I'm into the someone I accidentally texted, full fucking offense to whoever you wanna pick Edie: then I'll stick around too Edie: nothing I'm rushing back for Liam: it's in writing I'm not kidnapping you Liam: have to do a mugshot monday instead or something Edie: feel free Edie: I can't see that I'd mind Liam: being kidnapped or sharing a cell? Edie: hmm Edie: both Edie: though the involvement of bars to keep me about is unnecessary really Liam: does hitchiking only work if you're a girl with killer eyes? asking for myself before we torch the car Edie: as you're toxically masculine, most people'd be afraid to stop for you alone but as we're together, you should be safe and not an axe murderer Edie: unless I'm pulling a Hindley Liam: when we go for that we'll think it through more Liam: 🐶 or 👶 on board Edie: I can borrow one Edie: 👶 more likely Edie: people don't like cats enough Liam: I'll get over a fence to grab us a dog Edie: in one step, like Liam: depending on the fence Edie: sure, don't wanna oversell it Liam: you don't want no online fake shit Edie: just telling you so you know Edie: not the same Liam: thanks for telling me Edie: yeah alright Edie: didn't lecture you did I Liam: nah you didn't Edie: there we go then Liam: [quotes some of her own lyrics at her that he likes because genuinely listening to these tracks] Liam: you could sell that harder Edie: I'll work it out in my freestyle Liam: 🛢🧨 Edie: 🔥 Liam: 🎇🎆 Edie: 🤩 Liam: let's see your glitter Edie: checking it's not a catfish? Liam: can't show you mine first, too cocky behaviour Edie: [a rave lewk when we've clearly done the most to do the least you know the vibe] Liam: [I like to think he's written her name in body paint wherever she put her stick n poke so have a pic of that gal] Edie: 👍 Edie: approved Liam: what do you want your i dotted with? Liam: about as artistic as you'll get me to be Edie: ⭐ Edie: has to be Liam: [an adorable little star has been added so have another pic] Edie: perfect Liam: thanks for having a name that's short and easy to spell yourself Edie: oh yeah, snap Liam: except I haven't met another one of yours Edie: maybe an 👵 Liam: prefer a silent snatch & grab Edie: 😂 Edie: alright, then I can be the one and only Liam: do you wanna guess what I think about it? Edie: I have Edie: be too cocky to say Liam: I'll do it then, you said I can get away with more of it Liam: I think it'd be good if you were Edie: let's see if you're right Liam: feels like I am but yeah we'll 👀 Edie: it is weird Edie: how you randomly found my number instead Edie: how many # were you out by? Liam: you'll have his if you didn't before Liam: last number Edie: crazy Edie: another good story Liam: should've been a 6 but I did a 9 Edie: 🤪 love that Liam: I'll lose my phone again if you're what I find Edie: I'll save your number then Edie: or add it to the tat Liam: since you love how it feels Edie: and I'm no less liable to lose my phone, so Edie: the pain is just a bonus Liam: I can add it as fuel to the 🔥 any time you'd like an excuse to cross my number out & go again Edie: I won't run out of ideas either way Liam: what about space? Edie: not anytime soon Edie: I'll have to go back to biro and keep it less permanent after that Liam: leave it on the bodies of our victims like the shittiest calling card for the 🐷 Liam: call me Edie: ooh Edie: we could get really zodiac with that though Edie: only murder people on days ending in 9 Liam: I like it Edie: I'll go solo if you piss me off and do it on 6 days Liam: I'll start staging them like they've starred in your vids to get your forgiveness Liam: attention to detail for attention from you Edie: we can communicate through corpses Edie: that's new, no one's done that before Liam: when I keep the 👀 as a 🏆 you'll know I wanna see you Edie: romantic, aren't you Liam: toxic like my masculinity Edie: good Liam: ☢️ better than a barcode but not by a lot Edie: I could do you a Chernobyl victim tat Edie: get the toxic and the 🔥 in a really untasteful onner Liam: 👌 you're beautiful, talented & smart Liam: don't give me any flaws to pick at then Edie: I did say untasteful instead of distasteful, if you wanna be pedantic and take away smart so you can save some toxic masculinity points Edie: one-ner, also, doesn't translate to typing Liam: when it took you pointing it out, I don't think I can take anything away from you Edie: you can try Edie: again, like kidnapping, might not mind Liam: I can't help thinking it'd be better to give you things Edie: 🎇🎆🛢🧨? Liam: all that Liam: ⭐🐶👶 Liam: & anything else I've not remembered Edie: we can keep the puppy right Liam: what else would we do with it? Edie: just letting you know I draw the line at puppy killing Edie: get that out of the way now Liam: me too Liam: never microwaved any 🐹 or thrown them at the wall Edie: imagine how big you look to 🐹 Liam: 🏙🦖 Edie: definitely made that 📹 as a kid Liam: I'll be in the remake next time you're stuck for a vid idea Liam: if you still have it, we'll kick it frame for frame Edie: you'd be perfect for my next project Liam: sign me up Edie: [tat pic again like I already did] Liam: what else have you got? Edie: [just a comprehensive pic rundown of your tats that are all just silly ones you've done on the whole hope you've not got them anywhere too scandalous but realistically gonna need to be able to hide them when school so it's probably mostly legs at and like, upper arm and ribs/hip vibes] Liam: 😍 Edie: I'll tell you all the stories later when we're smashed Liam: no awkward silences in the car Liam: great idea Edie: not if the other girls are hot Liam: there's one I think you'd like Liam: you'll have to tell me if I'm wrong Edie: I'll flash a 6 or a 9 and you'll know Liam: she can be our first victim either way Edie: 😈 Liam: 🚗🔥 Liam: 🔐 Edie: 😍 Edie: you win Liam: how do you feel about playing games? Liam: 6 or 9 Edie: 9 Liam: same Edie: I know Liam: yeah, you're smart, I gave you that Edie: how smart is it that I wanna play with you? Liam: I'd call it a good decision, which maybe isn't smart if you only like bad ones Edie: I just like doing what I want Edie: good or bad is mostly irrelevant Liam: so do what you want Edie: you to be here now Liam: direct me 🗺❌ Edie: [at least you've had the good sense to be in town not at yours] Liam: [lord imagine] Edie: [like sure Rio ain't about but still don't need to be inviting you in quite yet lol] Liam: [her room is still there and no thank you hun] Edie: [not today huns, we can either skip to post rave now or post this as is?]

[flawsomesims]

UniVillainy 📓 Prologue, Part 1

| 📑 Table of Contents/Information | 🦙 Main Blog |

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I forgot to add this part – detective Jacobe Carnes was taken from the gallery and he was created by dogwerewolf.

◤◢◣◥◤ ◢◣◆◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

I knew it was a big risk going outside when the cops were so close on my tail, but I couldn’t stand to be cooped up in that damned underground headquarters for a minute longer. I needed fresh air, to feel the sun on my skin, the wind in my hair. And deep down, a small part of me hoped that I got caught because I’m so very tired of running, of hiding like a rat beneath the earth.

Whether fate, karma, or divine intervention, I got my wish.

His name is Jacobe Carnes, the leading detective that’s been heading the case against me for the past three years. Of all people, I just had to run into the person that knows me almost as well as I know myself.

At first, he seemed confused when his eyes met mine and I briefly considered the possibility that he wouldn’t recognize me, but I know I had changed little since I first broke out on his radar. Honestly, the only thing that’s changed about me is my weight and the fact that I’ve grown a whole inch in the past three years.

“Tori Hastings…” he muttered in disbelief.

I winced at the last name. It wasn’t my name, it was the one that was forced upon me. Though, I suppose my given name isn’t much better because it belongs to another man that ruined my life.

I scowled at the man, trying to keep my posture relaxed, but I knew my face reflected the anxiety and exhaustion that I felt. “Sorry, you got the wrong person.”

When I tried to push past him, he grabbed my upper arm in an iron-clad grip. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Hastings. Don’t make this difficult. You’ve been on the run for three years, isn’t it time to give it up?”

He’s right, of course. Three years of running from the cops and other criminals that want to use you as a stepping stone for their own activity definitely takes its toll on your mind and body. Even so, the criminal that had been pounded into me refused to go down without a fight.

And that’s exactly what happened.

I lunged at him, throwing my fist toward his face.

Despite catching him off guard, he was still stronger than me, both physically and mentally. Most of my training had been for reading people, learning to get into the enemy’s minds and sneak into places. Not that they hadn’t tried to train me for combat, but it just didn’t stick because of my lazy nature.

In the end, Carnes won the scuffle with ease and I was quickly handcuffed and loaded into the back of his police car. Despite the hard time I was facing, I breathed a sigh of relief, letting my head fall back against the leather seat.

I was freed from one prison…

Only to be dropped into another.

Which one is worse? I can’t even say, honestly. They both seem like pretty bad options, but at least in prison, I won’t be forced to do things like murder and steal. Maybe I can finally find some peace within myself again.

We reached the station and he pulled me from the car, taking me into the back where a female officer frisked me to insure I had no weapons or paraphernalia. After getting changed into a bright orange jumpsuit, I was led over to get my mugshot taken.

One of the officers was staring at me in disbelief, his mouth gaping like a fish.

I glared at him, “It’s rude to stare, you twat.”

“Behave, Hastings,” Carnes ordered, returning my glare ten-fold.

My mugshot was taken and my then my fingerprints, followed by a DNA sample which consisted of a long Q-tip being shoved into my mouth. I didn’t want to be completely complaisant, so I bit down, snapping the thin plastic stick in half and nearly scaring the female tech half to death when I growled at her.

If I had any humor left in me, I would have laughed.

Carnes rolled his eyes as his hand wrapped around my upper arm, nearly shoving me down the hallway toward a small, square room, in the center of which was a table, two chairs, and a lamp.

“Have a seat,”

I plopped down into the metal chair with a roll of my eyes. As if I had a choice in the matter. He took a seat across from me, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I never thought this day would come,” he admitted softly, almost as if to himself. “The day I finally caught Tori Hastings, infamous crime lord.”

Give me a break. “You want a cookie? A gold star, maybe?” I smirked.

His gaze snapped to mine, full of anger. “How can you be so smug after everything you’ve done? You’ve killed so many innocent people, ruined so many lives. And for what? A quick buck?”

The smirk quickly dropped as my hands fisted around the orange material. “You don’t know jack shit. Besides, those guys were far from being innocent.”

“You’re making excuses now?” He scoffed. “I forgot, murder is perfectly acceptable as long as they’re not innocent!”

“That’s not what I said,”

“It’s what you meant,”

“Don’t tell me what the hell I meant,”

“You seem to be getting angry,”

“Now, who’s being smug, asshole?” I glowered at him.

“How can I not be? I just took one of the worst criminals off the streets! Without their boss around, your family will flounder and fall apart, and the San Myshuno PD will be there to pick up the pieces!”

“Are you naive or just stupid?”

“What?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms across my chest. “Do you really think I’m the boss? Sorry to break this to you, but I’m not. I’m just the smokescreen to lure people into thinking our family is weak. People are less intimidated when they see me, more likely to let shit slip past their crusty lips. You know what they say, never trust a pretty face but people always do.”

Carnes seemed to process this information before hopping up from his seat. “You’re lying,”

“Believe what you want. I’m not here to convince you of the truth. It’s no skin off my back either way.

“Give me a name, then.”

“Hm?”

“If you’re telling the truth, give me a name. The name of the person who’s really in charge.”

“Nah,”

“‘Nah’? What do you mean, ‘nah’?!”

“I’m feeling kind of tired, you know?” I faked a yawn and he scowled.

“Get your ass up, Hastings.” He barked at me and I did as he requested, albeit quite slowly. I followed him back down the hallway toward a row of three cells, two of which were full of other prisoners, a couple of which I recognized.

“It’s Hastings!” One of the men growled, smooshing his face against the bars as he reached out to try and grab me.

“It’s about time that bitch got what was coming to her,” A woman huffed before tilting her nose toward the ceiling.

I rolled my eyes. It’s not like they’re in any better a situation than I am.

Carnes pulled open the metal door to the third cell and motioned for me to get inside. I faked another yawn as I slid past him and into the cell, watching him close the door behind me.

“Maybe some time in a cell will loosen up that tongue of yours, Hastings. Have a good night with them,” He nodded his head toward the other cells where the prisoners were still making comments and screaming profanities, promising to ‘get me’ and ‘make me pay’. With a smirk, the man turned and walked away.

It’s gonna be a long night…

◣◥◤◢◣ ◥◤◆◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

Next

#sims #the sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #s4 #univillainy #simblr #simlit #discover university

[vidkid20ssimblrlair]

Episode 16: What About Grace (Part 1)

Last night had been a turning point for me. For the first time in this godforsaken world, I felt truly alone. These people had welcomed me with open arms and now they couldn't even look me in the eye. My truth and past had made me an outcast. I could hear Audrey laughing now in the kitchen. She was talking to me now thankfully, but how long would that last? How long before the others convinced her I was just some scumbag thief? She fit here. I didn't. I don't think anything I could say now could make me fit.

I passed the kitchen and out the now boarded up door that led out to the backyard. I sat down on the steps. Everyone seemed to be inside enjoying breakfast. Pancakes as usual. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't welcomed. The first thing this morning I was met with looks of disgust and fear as I walked through the hallways upstairs. Wade looked at me as if I was a monster as he exited the bathroom. Aaron immediately closed his door upon seeing me. He looked as if seen a ghost. Then Lin stared at me looking unsure as we locked eyes on the stairs. Then there was Matthew. He truly hated me now. He peered out from the living room watching me with utter contempt on his face.

In fact, Audrey and Omar seemed to be the only ones left who still liked me or tolerated me at least. Well, those that I could confirm. I hadn't seen Grace, Mr. Jones, Madison, Tao or Nathan. Not even DJ. I had overhead DJ talking to Jones this morning in the hallway about the corpses. From the sounds of it, he would be spending most of the day taking out any he saw roaming around the premises after what happened last night. I was sort of relieved by this. If he had any thoughts about kicking me out I could at least prepare myself for the blow and hopefully make up a good plea for Audrey to stay.

I groaned feeling absolutely miserable and worn out. The sun was beating down on me and the heat was sweltering today. Summer was definitely making itself known. Luckily no corpses seemed to be around, but nature still thrived. I watched some birds fly over me. I found it fascinating how they had somehow survived in this fucked up world. I had even seen a deer in my travels. I closed my eyes trying to clear my mind taking in the organic sounds around me.

"Hey, Vincey! Breakfast?!"

A very loud and obnoxious voice then startled me. I looked up to see Audrey standing over me with a stupid grin on her face.

"Ahh! Shit! What are you a ninja? I didn't even hear you. What the hell?"

She giggled and placed her hand on her hip. "Maybe, but aren't you hungry?"

"No," I mumbled sitting up.

"You're lying. Come in and eat something."

"Nah. I don't eat where I'm not wanted. And I know I'm not wanted."

She cocked her head. "What makes you think that?"

"You haven't seen how they look at me now. They hate me."

"Wah Wah! They hate meeee! You sound like a kid," she said mocking me.

I rolled my eyes. "You know I liked you better when you were unconscious."

"Always the insults with you," she jested. "Well, continue your pity party out here. I'm going inside. I'll make sure Madison saves you a plate.

"Yeah, thanks."

"But Vince..."

"What?!"

A warm smile graced her face. "What you did last night was pretty brave. I'm glad you told the truth."

I shrugged. "Nothing to it."

She went back in the house and I leaned back staring up at the sky again. The wind was kicking up making the heat more tolerable. I checked in my pocket for my cigarette. I had been saving one since the gas station. It was stale, but it would do the trick. I stuck the cig in my mouth and dug in my other pocket for the lighter I bummed off of Nathan, but I stopped midway during my search when I heard footsteps. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and glanced over my shoulder to see Grace standing over me now.

She smiled and sat down beside me. I wasn't really sure how to react to her. We had barely talked since my introduction into the house. We exchanged pleasantries here and there, but we hadn't had a real conversation. Audrey, on the other hand, had become quite fond of her though. Still, it felt strange sitting next to her and from what I heard I should tread lightly when speaking with her.

"Hey," I said feeling suddenly nervous. "Something up?"

"Whew, it's hot. No. Just enjoying the scenery, child," she said wiping sweat off her forehead. "Besides, I thought you might need some company. You look...troubled."

"Nah, Ms. Grace. I'm fine. Just...just lost in thought," I sighed as I fiddled with my cigarette.

She shook her head and took my hands into hers. I turned to meet her eyes and she had the sweetest expression on her face. One of understanding and concern, but I wasn't convinced she could comprehend what I was going through even if I did tell her. Alzheimer's had crippled her emotionally and robbed her of the complexities of thought. If I confided in her I assumed I would just upset her, but what she said next astonished me.

"You're worried about last night," she said plainly. "You told us about your criminal past and now everyone's tiptoeing around you like you're some bad guy."

I looked at her stunned. She laughed and continued. "I know. I see. I got two eyes. Just because I got Alzheimer's don't make me stupid, Mr. Martez. I listen. Now I don't always understand, but when I do I do," she said winking. "Now would you like to know what I think of you?"

"Well...uh..."

"I think you have a good heart," she said now placing one hand on my chest. "I can tell. You know too, but you doubt yourself, but I can tell you you're no monster. No matter what you've done. Your past is only part of your story. The rest is up to you to tell and from the looks of it, you got a lot left to tell. You're here for a reason."

"Here for a reason. Maybe I just got lucky," I thought out loud.

"That's more than luck. I don't know what you believe in, but someone or something wants you here and they’re watching over you," she said quietly. "You’re getting your second chance. We'll all are and we better not waste it."

"How you figured that?"

She closed eyes and sighed. "I could sit here like this forever. It's so nice here, but it's best I get back to Omar. That man will lose his mind if he doesn't have breakfast and his morning paper."

"Ms. Grace. Are you ok?"

She stretched and began climbing to her feet. I rose up immediately and helped her the rest of the way. I took her arm in mine and guided her to the door.

"You got a good heart, Vince. You're a good man," she said nodding as I held the door open for her.

I chuckled. "Thanks. I wish everyone else thought the same as you."

She stopped in the doorway and folded her arms eyeing me suddenly serious now. "They will. They're just afraid and it's easier to be afraid nowadays. Also smarter to be cautious."

I was speechless.

"Besides, according to society, we should be afraid of you. Especially me. A little old lady in the presence of a convict. Heaven forbids", she smirked. "But I'm not and society no longer exists. Time's are changing my friend."

I couldn’t hide how impressed I was with her. I stared at her in amazement. Then I saw her smile slowly fade and her confidence diminish with it. Suddenly she looked confused as if she was looking for something.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Just looking for that darn cat. Ms. Fluffy," she said looking frantic suddenly. "Also the paperboy hasn't delivered the paper these past few days. Omar will be so upset."

"Grace. There's no newspaper or paperboy, honey. Come on, you need a nap," Omar said appearing at the doorway beside her. He turned his attention to me. "She been bothering you?"

"No. Not at all."

"Talking nonsense?"

"Actually not much at all. Everything she said up till now has made the most sense," I said shaking my head in disbelief.

He first looked at me as if I was crazy, but he quickly smiled and patted me on the shoulder. I watched the two of them enter the house then and suddenly Tao appeared. He poked his head out the door looking nervous. His eyes darting from me to elsewhere.

"Whatsup kid? Something the matter?" I asked staring at him.

He looked around and whispered, "Um...did you really kill people?"

A small laugh escaped my lips. "No."

"So you’re really innocent?"

"Yeah. Now I'm no saint, but yeah I was."

"No. I was just wondering," he said coly as he shuffled on his feet. "Do you have a mugshot?"

I chuckled again. "Tao.”

“What? I mean it’s dope if you do.”

“Tao, go in the house!”

“What? What I do?"

I laughed again hardily. I could barely contain myself. I put my arm around him and guided him towards the door. Carefree. My mind and body feeling a bit lighter now. I hadn't won over everyone, but this was a start.

For once I felt hopeful, but it was a feeling that would be short-lived. Maybe not so much the hope, but the feeling of ease. An ease that would be lost that very night and replaced with the feeling of utter despair.

Previous Episode- Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

All Episodes

#sims 3 Dead on Arrival #ts3 dead on arrival #sims 3 doa #ts3 doa #dead on arrival season 2 #doa season 2 #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 simblr #ts3 simblr #simblr #sims 3 story #ts3 story

[roadfortherogues]

💬

He startled when a hand slammed down on the rickety wooden table in front of him, and looking up he was greeted with the wolfishly crooked grin of Ben. A paper was crumpled up in his free hand.

“You’ll never guess who’s ugly mug was plastered up on the bounty board.”

He made a soft scoff as Ben took a seat beside him, heavily dropping down onto one of the upside down crates they had the pleasure of calling chairs. There was no spare space in the wagons for something so menial, so the boxes their things got stuffed into when it was time to fly had to do.

Snatching the crumpled paper from his brother’s hands, he let out a low whistle of surprise.

REWARD

Will be PAID upon the RETURN of

REED FARLOW

! DEAD OR ALIVE ! to WYOMING STATE

WANTED for illegal distribution of moonshine and the MURDER of three officers within the last year. Past affiliation with FLOYD DIAZ’s gang; managed to evade capture by Wyoming State for the last TEN YEARS. Proceed with caution.

The mugshot was almost comical. The woman’s hair was messy as per usual, but her light eyes glinted with fire. She was grinning straight at the camera like the cat that got the cream, and her black embroidered eyepatch had been flipped up to reveal the milky eye and muddle of scars and freckles beneath. He still thought her easy on the eyes, intriguing in the same way an abandoned barn was. Even with vines crawling up the sides and boards missing, it had a certain alluring charm that made one want to trespass and enter. Not that he’d dare draw near.

“Never believed the papers saying she kicked it down to Mexico. Hated the heat too much, from the same from the same neck of the woods as Bee. Not surprised she’s this far north.” That was Ben, grabbing the paper back.

“Nah. You didn’t hear? She staked out near a Shoshone reservation after that.. one time, for a couple years after she first cut loose.” He leaned back, forgetting about whatever it was he was doing earlier. He hadn’t spoken to Reed in ages, wild thing she was. She had left the gang after being in it since it was a new and blossoming thing, the first member he can really say he could remember joining and then leaving.

“Nah, good thing I didn’t either. If word was going around as freely as that she’d be long dead by now.” Ben was analyzing the features of her face, seeing what had changed. The creases by her eyes were more prominent and her hair was lighter, but past that she still looked like the same wild soul they’d known before. God, it had been a long time. She had to be what, now, thirty? Thirty five?

“Emmett always said she’d run. It’s bittersweet, but kinda glad she did. She’d have burnt out here much quicker than wherever she is now, needs the independence. Ain’t surprised she fell to bootlegging.” He fished his knife out of his pocket, reaching across the table for the spare whetstone before working on the blade. “Wild ride it’s been.”

“We should pay her a visit.”

“You crazy? She’ll hardly recognize us. We ain’t kids no more, Ben, things have changed.”

“If she decides we’re rivals, sure, she might get us between the eyes. What ‘bout as customers?” Looking up, he glared at Ben for a long moment. He had that excited twinkle in his eye, though, and with a huff he felt himself begin to relent.

“We don’t even know where her speakeasy is at.”

“I got a hunch.” Ben answered with a grin. No doubt he’d caught word from one of his buddies. That man could make friends with every criminal on his side of the Plains, something that became pretty useful in hearing about things such as this.

—

The woman was alone at a table in the back, a cigar between her teeth as she flipped through the pages.

Slowly, the muzzle of a revolver was pressed against her head. She visibly stiffened at the touch of the cool metal to her temple.

“We’re taking you in on behalf of Wyoming state for the criminal acts of bootlegging and extortion, as well as gang activity and the recent murder of three fine men.”

She had Ben’s hand twisted behind his back in a second, face white as a sheet and beginning to shift in confusion as the other dissolved into a bout of laughter that shook his whole body. He thought it a mighty dumb trick- one that had been played on him once and resulted in Floyd getting a punch to the face so hard it nearly shattered his jaw- but he wasn’t too worried. Recognition was dawning on Reed’s face, and she let go of the other once he picked her dropped cigar off the ground and gave her a firm clap on the shoulder.

“Well, if it ain’t ol’ Ace. Been a while.”

Reed let out a loud whistle, pulling him in for a hug that almost knocked him off his feet despite her being a full head shorter than him. “Hush up, Caballero, you and your dumb-as-rocks brother nearly had me ready to draw!”

That pulled a laugh from him, and he leaned back on his feet. Ben was rubbing his wrist but still grinning.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Heard through the grapevine you were flittin’ between a few bars of yours, this place any good?”

“Only the best white lightning in the state.” She grinned, waving to the bartender without looking back at him. They’d gotten a few looks from their scene, but most everyone was too drunk to care for more than a few seconds.

Ben pulled out a chair and took a seat, kicking his feet up on the table before a whack from Reed made him rethink that decision. “Pay good up here for shine runs?”

“Hell yeah it does. Pay off my bounty any time it gets high enough to attract any posse actually capable enough to bring me in. You should try it, heard you fellas have racked up quite some numbers back in New Mexico.”

He passed Reed the poster he’d stolen from Ben at some point during the ride over, watched the wicked glint in her eye as she laughed and tore it up.

Some things never changed.

#long post

[murderousbitcha]

also i’m sorry that i’m a “raging bitch” when it comes to shit like that (refer to previous post) but there are tons and i mean TONS of other characters who haven’t been written here who we would all love to have written here!!! like it’s fine and dandy if you plan on giving xander a different face claim and reworking his character / personality because it needs a giant overhaul. but if you’re just going to write the same old jackass xander that we had to put up with for 7 seasons? nah, i’ll pass. his toxic behavior began early on in season 1 when he asked buffy to the dance and said that he was fine if she said no to going with him but then turned around and got all pissy about it saying how he should be used to rejection as he’s had great practice with it which was done in an attempt to make buffy feel like shit for saying no and that she just wanted to be friends with him.

and no i’m wrong. his toxic behavior comes to light in the same season but in the episode “the pack” where he and the bullies get possessed by the hyenas. ‘cause in that episode he comes real fucking close to hurting buffy aka raping her which would have happened if she hadn’t been the slayer and had the ability to throw a desk at him. so like from that episode on xander just gets worse and worse as the show goes on because then the whole anya bit comes into play in later seasons. but he’s still always going after buffy and “why don’t you pick me???” or “why is it always the dead guy???” like the dude just doesn’t get it through his head at anytime that buffy is not interested in him and doesn’t want a romantic / sexual relationship with him.

on top of all of that character / fictional world, nicholas brendon is not a good guy. he has never been a good guy. he is an abusive asshole who has more mugshots than lindsey lohan. addiction is a disease and a hard one to kick but he has been “fighting” it for the last 15 years or so and continues to fuck up. continues to get arrested for domestic abuse and assault in general. i mean you google his name and the word assault and you’ll get several articles on him, one being where he strangled his wife who he had barely been married to.

so unless you’re recasting xander’s face claim and reworking his personality / character, please do not follow this blog or any of my other ones because i will block you and you will remain blocked. i also understand that not everyone knows of nicholas’ rocky past but his character on the show was not a good guy in any way shape or form. it took me about 3 or 4 rewatches before i “smelled the roses” and took notice of his toxic behavior / traits. so just rewatch the show and pay close attention to how he treats women in the show and you’ll see how bad it is.

#( y'all need to shut up & listen | psa ) #( nicholas brendon ) #tw: abuse mention #tw: rape mention #( if this needs any other tags pls let me know n i'll happily tag it )

[savvicc666]

Waddup? Are y’all tired of me posting about Johnny vs. Amber yet? Idgaf, because here’s some more stuff. Since, apparently, a good chunk of AH supporters think I’m lying about most of the things I’m saying. Here’s my facts once again, stated as a whole with links to evidence to back me up. 

Now, we’re gonna start with back before Johnny and Amber were together. Back to Amber and Tasya van Ree. In 2003 AH was arrested for attacking her girlfriend (Tasya) in public. Here’s the article and here’s her mugshot.

In response to this I’ve heard multiple AH stans say that this doesn’t matter for multiple reasons. I’ve heard “Oh, Tasya dropped the charges” and “Oh, but it doesn’t matter because it’s female on female.” What? Neither of those things matter, they don’t matter because the attack still happened.

Moving on, I want to talk about the divorce now. Amber filed for divorce May of 2016, 2 days after Johnny’s mother had passed away. In divorce papers she doesn’t claim to have been abused, citing “irreconcilable differences” as her reason for divorce as well as asking for spousal support. A few days later she filed for a temporary restraining order, at which point she was responded to saying that she was in no immediate danger being as Johnny was and would continue to be out of the country for several months. After which, they granted her a restraining order after posting a picture to twitter of her bruised face (I don’t have the link to her twitter post, but you guys all saw it, obviously.) Afterwards she releases this statement. Where she tells a heartbreaking tale, only to turn around and request (1) the residence that they shared, (2) the range rover that she had been driving (even though, she owns a car that Johnny bought and fixed up for her, (3) possession of her dog and (4) $50,000 a month as spousal support. (She also requested that he pay for the mortgage on said residence and for her legal fees.) This statement was released after a letter stating the same basic requests was sent to Johnny Depp’s team (by Laura Wasser, AH’s divorce attorney). Unfortunately, I don’t have the link to said letter, but as I said it states predominately the same things (although, including the fact that if Johnny does not sign to agree they will release the statement publicly. Of course, Johnny declined to sign it and so they released the statement.)

I’d like to mention here with the whole spousal support business; Yes, of course, she’s entitled to spousal support. The thing is that she claims to be a strong independent woman and after this statement she was attacked online by people saying that she’s “in this for the money.” She countered this by saying it’s not true and that she would donate all of the checks to charity. When Johnny offered to donate the money on her behalf (so it would all be donated at once instead of in intervals as spousal support checks are paid month to month) she refused. As far as I know, she hasn’t donated any of the money to charity. I’d also like to share at this time, evidence that she needs the money, seeing as how she spends more money than she makes. She also asked the court to deny any request from him for spousal support. 

Along with the aforementioned statement, AH also released this video to TMZ as “proof of abuse.” (This is the same video that she submitted in court which was deemed inadmissible due to the fact that HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING IN THE VIDEO EXCEPT SLAM AND KICK CABINETS!) Question, if you’re fucking scared of your husband why’re you sitting there, egging him on and recording him? For the record, she later stated that she never sent that video to TMZ, even though it was recorded on her cell phone (and released before it was shown in court.) Her only other proof in court was the picture of her bruised face, which was also deemed inadmissible due to the fact that she would not supply the metadata for said photo, which would’ve proven when the photo was taken (along with other things, such as if it was edited, etc.)

Johnny’s evidence consisted of 20 eyewitnesses who saw Amber Heard on the day after Johnny allegedly attacked her without the bruise she had previously mentioned. Amber ended up admitting, under oath, that Johnny had never abused her and that she in fact had abused him throughout the course of their relationship.

After the divorce was settled, Amber taking money over justice (go figure). Both actors said that they just wanted to put this behind them and move on with their lives... lmao why is it then that Amber still continuously brings it up?

Here’s an article put in Allure magazine. Firstly, this article just seems very unprofessionally written. It’s essentially drinking and gossiping, but you know what’s illegal? To claim to be a domestic abuse “victim,” “survivor,” whatever when you dropped the charges. I repeat YOU DROPPED THE CHARGES in order to “speed up your divorce.” Johnny, honestly could’ve sued for defamation of character at this point, but... who cares?

I could spend all day finding links to stupid videos of interviews, features, etc. where she is either belittling Johnny (both behind his back and to his face), pulling him away from fans, and just plain being rude. None of that constitutes divorce, but... hey... you don’t see Johnny doing any of that shit, or even arguing with her doing it, do you? Nah...

Fast Forward, Amber released this statement on the Washington Post. This is where she’s landed herself in hot water. After almost 3 years of this shit going on, Amber claiming to be an abuse survivor, Johnny losing jobs and being belittled he’s had enough of it. I can’t really say that I blame him. He’s decided to sue her for defamation of character. Earlier this month, evidence was released on The Blast of an incident where Johnny’s finger was split open (almost off of his finger). Previously, AH had stated that, in a fit, Johnny split his own finger open with a bottle, dipped his open wound in dark blue pain and wrote on a mirror “Billy Bob and Easy Amber.” As he thought at the time that Amber was cheating on him with Billy Bob Thorton and had accused her of sleeping with multiple others as well. This injury postponed the filming of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales for 7-ish months, due to his hand being in a cast. At which time he gave the excuse of having punched a wall in a heated fight with Amber. Prior to this lawsuit, Johnny has also stated that (on the night of her 30th birthday) Amber had punched him twice in the face while they were in bed reading, saying that she was mad that he had been late home. Afterwards he left, escorted by his security who witnessed the bruise on Depp’s face. 

You guys get to decide who you’re siding with on this one... Parts of it are slightly fuzzy, but I choose to believe Johnny. Not because he’s one of my favourite actors, or any other superficial reason, but because Johnny is not out trying to convince everyone of his innocence or Amber’s guiltiness. I believe him, because throughout all of this he’s stayed silent. He’s let people trash his name, ruin his reputation and get him fired. He’s accepted for 3 years that Amber would go around saying to her fans and her friends that she’s an abuse “survivor” while he is the abuser. You can’t blame him for being tired of it. If you can seriously believe Amber, I’d like you to tell me why? People believe her because she’s a woman... Obviously, a woman couldn’t lie about such things, a woman couldn’t abuse a man. That’s the most ridiculously disgusting and sexist thing that I’ve ever heard you people say. Amber has no evidence to back up her claims.. none at all. Dropping the charges should’ve made it look bad on her, but of course it didn’t because she’s already been “strong enough” to stand up for herself. WHERE WAS SHE STRONG? Where? Seems to me like she accused, took it back and got money. While claiming to have been paid ‘hush money’ in the Allure column that’s funny since that’s the money she was paid as alimony. 

Anyway, lol, it’s 2 am, I’m tired... I’ve posted, said and heard so much today and yesterday about this situation. I’ll be done talking about it until Johnny wins. As always, we love you Johnny. I love all of you for reading. Goodnight.

#johnny depp #johnnydepp #wearewithyoujohnnydepp #i support johnny depp #johnny #john christopher depp ii #john christopher depp #johnny vs. amber #amber heard #amber is an abuser #amber van ree #amber heard is a pos #domestic violence #domestic abuse #allure #allure magazine #the blast #people magazine #washington post

[bevioletskies]

Here's a Starmora prompt for you to consider. An AU where Peter and Gamora are private investigations based on Knowhere like Sherlock and Watson and cross paths with the crime lord Thanos.

(sorry for the delay, anon! i had way too much fun with this prompt)warning for canon-typical violence and non-graphic mentions of blood and injuries.word count: 7.9k | ao3

Peter leaned back with a thoughtful hum, the well-worn chair creaking precariously beneath him in warning. His eyes were fixated on the old-fashioned corkboard before him as they so often were, attempting to make sense of anything he was seeing.

“If you get any closer, all you’re going to get is cross-eyed.”

He startled out of his own thoughts, turning in his chair to watch as Gamora stepped into the room with two coffee cups and a sly grin, passing one cup to him. He smiled gratefully before downing half of it in one generous gulp. “We gotta be missin’ something. Thanos had three separate factions, right? One led by two brothers, one led by a married couple, and one led by two sisters. All dealin’ in drugs, weapons, and murder.”

“Yes,” Gamora said evenly. She leaned against the desk, taking a neat sip of her own drink.

“We saw the brothers - Cull and Ebony - shakin’ down that Kree warlord, Ronan, on Hala, for information on the Kasius family.” Peter stabbed a pushpin through the photo he’d taken of them arriving at an abandoned loading dock. “The married couple, Corvus and Proxima, makin’ a deal with the Astrans so they’ll vote Qovas into the Confederacy in exchange for the mines on Easik.” Another pushpin, this time into old mugshots from the time they’d been caught with Chitauri weapons while passing through Sakaar.

“Your point, Quill?” Gamora sighed.

“The sisters!” Peter exclaimed. “I know you’re still kinda green to the whole P.I. business, but they haven’t been seen in over a year. No one knows their names, or why they worked for Thanos, or where they went, but they were known for bein’ the deadliest women in the galaxy, and suddenly poof - gone.”

Gamora swallowed. “Isn’t it obvious?” Peter looked at her curiously. “They’re probably dead. That lead is going nowhere, Quill. Focus on the ones we know about. We’ll get Thanos someday, but focusing on two women who are either rotting in a jail cell or six feet deep in the ground won’t bring us any closer to finding him.”

“But doesn’t it bother you?”

More than you know, Gamora thought privately. “Don’t dwell on it, okay? The Corps are counting on you, of all people, and we’ve got better things to be doing than chasing shadows. Rumor has it that the Grandmaster is paying a visit to his brother at the casino tonight, and he’s bringing the weapons that were confiscated from Corvus and Proxima in exchange for one of Tivan’s toys. Chances are, they’re coming here to Knowhere to get them back. We gather the rest of our investigation team, go undercover, and see if we can parse some more information about Thanos’s whereabouts.”

“We’re not gonna arrest them?” Peter protested disbelievingly as Gamora moved to sit at her desk, opposite his.

She merely smiled. “Patience, Peter Quill, is a virtue.”______

Peter, Gamora, and the rest of their team arrived at the casino hours later, appropriately dressed and for the most part, secretly thrilled. Their dingy little investigation office, started by Peter and Drax, had really grown over the past couple years, but right from the beginning, it had always been about taking down the Mad Titan’s crime empire. Their smaller jobs were, of course, interesting enough, but it was the ones that took them one step closer to Thanos that really got their adrenaline going.

Gamora glanced around the rented car at her companions, feeling uneasy. After hearing about their successes and surprisingly decent reputation almost a year ago, she was quick to travel to Knowhere and offer herself as another partner, fudging her credentials and references so they would take her seriously. They had immediately accepted her into their little clan, almost as if she’d been there from the beginning, and she had become irreversibly fond of them, Peter in particular. It was hard to look at him sometimes, though, when he got uncomfortably close to the truth, and this was one of those times.

“You look real pretty. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before,” Peter said teasingly as he helped her out of the car.

“Don’t get used to it,” she replied dryly, pushing her hair out of her face. “Remember, Tivan doesn’t usually show up until the end of these parties, but there’s a good chance Corvus and Proxima will arrive beforehand, or possibly send scouts to ensure the legitimacy of the deal. Any suspicious behavior, and - ”

“And we report it to you. We got it, Gam.” Rocket scoffed. “You’d think we haven’t done this a million times before.”

“We haven’t,” Drax interjected unhelpfully. “This is perhaps only our third time infiltrating the Collector’s place of business - ”

“I was just exaggeratin’, you big lug.” Rocket elbowed Drax before he could continue on. “Me n’ Groot are gonna be at the tables. You got a problem with that?”

The two of them walked inside before anyone could object, though Peter called after them in vain. “Don’t spend all our money like last time! I still can’t show my face in the bar on 12th, no thanks to you.”

“Drax and I will go talk to bar patrons,” Mantis offered with a sunny smile. “I promise not to let Drax get too drunk.”

“What are you implying?” Drax protested, though Mantis dragged him away before he could defend himself. Peter glanced over at Gamora, who seemed unusually fidgety.

“Guess it’s down to you and me to hang out up high,” Peter said, nodding towards the balcony that overlooked the casino’s enormous entryway, where the rich and shameless were currently tossing their spaceship keys to the valets like they were worth nothing at all. “Ready, partner?”

“I suppose,” Gamora said reluctantly, allowing him to lead the way. Once they were upstairs, she could almost see that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes, something that told her he was thinking about it again. “Stop.”

“I didn’t - what?” Peter looked bewildered.

“You’re thinking about the sisters again, aren’t you?” she said accusingly. “You have too many tells, Quill. I’m not sure how you made it as P.I. in the first place.”

“Hurtful.” Peter clutched at his chest in mock offense. “But nah, I wasn’t. I…uh, I was actually thinkin’ about you.”

Now it was Gamora’s turn to look confused. “Me?”

He smiled almost shyly this time, lacking the usual smug, upturned corners of his mouth. No, this was something softer, sweeter. “Well, we’re comin’ up on one year of you being with us, and um, it’s been pretty awesome, don’t you think?”

“It’s had its moments,” Gamora said diplomatically, though she couldn’t help but smile, too. She stepped closer to the edge of the balcony, resting her hands on the railing as she stared out at the night sky. “I’ve enjoyed myself. Really, I have. Not just the work, but…the people.”

“Yeah? You got a favorite?”

Gamora laughed. “Are you actually asking me to compliment you? How the arrogant have fallen.”

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” he chuckled, taking a step closer. His hand settled on the railing by hers, their fingertips barely brushing. “I’m kidding…mostly. I just…I wanted to say that I’m really glad you’re here. Y’know, it kinda felt like the team was - we were doing great, but we were missing something, and when you showed up at our door…it all made sense again. And you’re not just our co-worker, Gamora, you’re our friend. I hope you know that.”

A lump formed in her throat, her fingers tensing around the cool metal. “You trying to soften me up for something, Quill?” she said hoarsely. “Vacation time, maybe?”

“No.” Peter laughed again, but this time, he sounded far more nervous. “I wanted to ask, if maybe, you’d, uh…be interested in - ”

“Sister.”

Gamora’s blood ran cold as she slowly, but reluctantly turned on her heel; that voice was unmistakable. “What are you doing here?” she said in a horrified near-whisper.

“Saving you, if you can believe it,” the other woman said snidely, snatching up Gamora’s wrist and yanking, hard. “Come on.”

“Hey, hey, hands off!” Peter tried to pry her fingers from Gamora’s arm, only to get backhanded across the face for his efforts. “ Ow - hey, you can’t just do that - ”

“Nebula!” Gamora scolded, wrestling out of her grip. “Quill, it’s okay. She’s my sister. Saving me from what, Nebula?”

Nebula scowled at them both. “Corvus and Proxima are coming here tonight.”

“I’m aware. Why else would I be here, of all places?” Gamora snorted.

“No, I mean they’re here for you,” Nebula snapped. “You think they give a damn about Chitauri weapons? They’re a unit a dozen on Sanctuary. They were always going to find you eventually, since you’re so insistent on trotting around with the rest of your team, solving mysteries and stopping crime like a good little detective - ”

“And they intend to kill me?” Gamora drew to her full height. “I’d like to see them try.”

“Wait, why’re they after you specifically? It’s my agency,” Peter interrupted, but both sisters ignored him in favor of narrowing their eyes at each other.

“They intend to bring you to him.”

Gamora finally fell silent, her heart drumming painfully fast in her chest as she tore her gaze away from her sister. She leaned against the railing once more, only this time, she wanted to vomit. Of course it was always going to come to this; how could she have been so naive? It was only a matter of time before her past caught up to her, before he caught up to her. “Then we have to go into hiding. Tell me you have a ship.”

“Registered, but untagged,” Nebula nodded. “Come with me, we’ll have wheels up in two minutes flat.”

“Seriously, can you guys tell me what the hell is going on? I can help, okay, I still got some pull over at the Nova Corps. We can do this together!” Peter squeezed Gamora’s shoulder. “C’mon, Gamora. Let me help.”

Gamora turned back around to face him, her eyes now filled with unshed tears. “Not tonight, Quill. You’ll have to finish this job without me.”

Peter stared at her, alarmed. He’d never seen her so shaken before. “Who is ‘him’, Gamora?” he asked softly. She merely shook her head and stepped out of Peter’s grasp, moving to stand beside Nebula. Still, his eyes followed her. “Is he…is it Thanos?” His gaze flickered between her and Nebula and suddenly, everything fell into place for him - or more accurately, came crashing down. “You…” he breathed. “It’s you. You’re the…the sisters.”

“Quill - ”

“You showed up on Knowhere two months after they went missing,” Peter whispered. “After you went missing. Said you had no family, but you had experience, and you knew we were workin’ hard on bringing Thanos down.”

“Please, Quill - ”

“Did you come here just to take us down? Dismantle our agency or, or…or kill us?”

Gamora bit her lip so hard she drew blood, hot tears spilling down her cheeks before she could stop herself. “I have to go,” she murmured shakily. “Please, just let me go. Tell the others…tell them I had a family emergency.”

His eyes darkened. “Oh, I’ll tell ‘em a lot more than that.”

Nebula didn’t give Gamora a chance to reply, digging her nails into Gamora’s arm and harshly pulling her away, knocking people over as they disappeared into the crowd. Peter was left staring at the spot Gamora once occupied, truly and utterly speechless.______ 

The rest of the night went by in a haze; Peter could barely concentrate on looking out for Corvus, Proxima, or any other suspicious behavior, only focusing on what seemed to be Gamora’s complete betrayal. He tried to give her the benefit of the doubt; from what he could tell, she was no longer on Thanos’s side, judging by her terrified reaction at the mere thought of him. Still, she had kept it hidden, played it off like it was nothing, stood by Peter’s side for almost a year and said nothing, did nothing. She probably had all the inside information he could ever want and more, and here he was, begging for scraps, desperate to catch a glimpse or a whisper of anything that would bring Thanos down, once and for all.

“Where is Gamora?” Drax asked when the team met up again at the end of the night.

“Left early. Family emergency,” Peter muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

Mantis frowned. “I thought she doesn’t have any family.”

“Then she lied, I guess,” Peter grumbled. Wouldn’t be the first time. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

He was silent the whole ride back, only perking up to absentmindedly say his goodbyes whenever someone exited the car. When it was down to just him and Mantis, who lived in the same building, she leaned in closer to look at him inquisitively. “It was not a family emergency, was it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Peter said tersely, waving her off.

“I know you wanted to ask her out,” Mantis said sympathetically. “Oh, Peter, did she say no? Is that why she left?”

He scoffed. “I wish that was what happened. No, Mantis, just drop it, okay? I’ve got some stuff to figure out.”

Peter tossed and turned all night, at a loss for what to do. Objectively, he knew he couldn’t let his emotions dictate the rest of the case. He needed to report her to the Nova Corps; after all, they were the one who legitimized his operations in the first place. He had to tell them he’d found the two missing daughters of Thanos and that Gamora had been lying this whole time about her qualifications, her background, her everything.

However, he still couldn’t help but feel hurt, betrayed, and yet, still worried about her well-being. After all, Thanos was probably going to do unspeakable things to her and her sister if he ever found them - in the end, they would welcome death. Peter hesitated. Maybe it would be better for him to bring her in instead of call her out…only the Nova Corps would surely shut him down the second they found out he was protecting her, maybe throw them all in jail. Groaning, Peter face-planted into his pillow. He really needed to sleep.

Unsurprisingly, he woke earlier than usual, unable to get more than four hours of rest. He reluctantly pulled on his coat and dragged himself to the office, hoping Mantis couldn’t hear the squeak of his door hinges from her apartment across from his. He could barely keep his eyes open when he flipped the lights on, and it took him a second to even realize they were switched off immediately after. “What the hell…”

“Please. No one knows I’m here.” Gamora stepped out from behind him, holding her hands up in surrender. “Well, except for Nebula.”

“Gamora,” Peter breathed, almost dropping his bag in shock. “What - ”

“It didn’t feel right, not explaining myself. Besides, I figured you were either going to report me to the Nova Corps or hunt me down yourself.” She let out a dark laugh. “I wouldn’t blame you either way.”

“You said you needed to hide. I saw some of Thanos’s Outrider agents at the casino last night, probably lookin’ for you,” Peter said in disbelief. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“According to Nebula’s intel, the other Children of Thanos know about you, but not the others. I’ve been seen with you in public too many times.” Gamora sucked in a breath. “So…I need to protect you, too. You have to come with us, and I’m hoping you’ll come quietly. I can’t let you report me, and I definitely can’t let you kill me.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Peter groaned, rubbing his hands over his forehead.

“I know the last thing you want to do is trust me. But my only option, for both my protection and yours, is to take you with us. We don’t have time to argue, okay? I saw the Outrider agents, too. They were outside the safehouse that Nebula and I were staying at, ready to tear the place apart.” Gamora held out a trembling hand. “Please, Quill. Don’t make me ask again.”

His heart felt like it was racing in his throat, his head spinning, though that might have been from exhaustion. Sighing, Peter hefted his bag over his shoulder. “Fine. But don’t think I don’t got questions for you. A lot of questions.”

Once they boarded the ship parked out back and Nebula got them in the air, Peter was feeling more and more uneasy. What was he doing, uprooting his life and going against protocol to let Gamora, a supposed former lieutenant of Thanos, drag him along with her? He needed to call the Nova Corps, or Mantis, or Drax, or hell, Yondu was probably skulking around a few planets over, just something -

“Give me your communicator.”

Sighing in defeat, he pressed the device into Gamora’s palm. “You’re really not helpin’ your case here.”

“You don’t have the authority to arrest me, only the ability to call it in. Excuse me for being cautious,” Gamora retorted, tucking it neatly into her belt. “We’re on the same side, Quill, I promise. I just…I needed a way into Thanos’s head that wasn’t my own. And legitimacy.”

“And yet you came to me and Drax, of all people. Why? Why didn’t you just go to the Nova Corps directly?” Peter shot back.

“Because the Nova Corps would either imprison me or kill me on the spot. Believe me, they won’t give me or Nebula the time of day. They’ve seen our faces before. You hadn’t.” Gamora sat on the bench opposite him, her shoulders slumping a little. She looked absolutely exhausted. “When I heard there was an investigation office working to take our father down…I had hope. I still do. But now, you know too much, and they know who you are, and…I just want to keep you safe, okay?”

Peter leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “No, you want to keep me quiet. That’s why I’m here. You spent years doing Thanos’s dirty work, why stop now?”

“Guilt, pain…though really, that’s an understatement.” Gamora shrugged sadly. “Nebula and I were tortured for years. Physically, mentally. Every morning, I woke up wishing that Thanos had just killed me alongside my family instead of taking me to be a part of his. Usually, we had to travel in groups, but this time, it was just us. He wanted us to retrieve an Infinity Stone from Morag. We fled to Knowhere instead. We already knew Tivan from a previous job, so we called him and he set us up in a safehouse, no questions asked. Told us where we could find you. The rest, you already know.”

“And why all the secrecy? A whole year, and you never once spoke up! All those times that I speculated about who the sisters were, where they went. I was practically begging for just a hint of information about Thanos’s whereabouts and his deals, and you just sat there and pretended.” Peter scoffed. “You’re damn right, I don’t trust you.”

“That’s fair.” Gamora smiled remorsefully. “I was going to tell you someday, but honestly, I didn’t know much more than what you had already uncovered. You’re clever, Quill. Resourceful, too. Really, the only things that I knew about that you didn’t already figure out were mostly irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Little illegal dealings here and there, a few trafficking operations that were already dismantled by the appropriate authorities. But we are after the same endgame here - taking him down for good. And he’s not an easy target to find.”

Finally, it seemed like Peter had nothing left to say to her, his eyes glazing over a little as he stared out the window to the stars. He got to his feet. “I need a nap,” he muttered. “And possibly some booze, once we get…wherever it is we’re goin’.”______

Peter woke a couple hours later to bright sunlight streaming in through the tiny bunk window and the sounds of two hushed, but urgent voices by the door. “We can just leave him to rot here forever, sister, I don’t see the problem.”

“He’s…he’s important, okay? We spent so long trying to track Thanos’s progress together, abandoning him would do more harm than good.”

“You just said he knows no more than we do.”

“Just…trust me, Nebula. We have to keep him with us. Think of the consequences if we let him go. Not just for us, but for him, too.”

When he finally had enough, Peter emerged from the cabin, catching them both off-guard. “Where are we?”

Gamora smiled tightly. “Sakaar.”

“Oh, you gotta be - ”

“It’s the last place he’d expect,” Gamora interjected. “If you’re done questioning everything I’ve said, there’s work to be done. Let’s go.”

They trekked through the literal garbage dump that Nebula had landed them on, Peter pinching his nose in mild disgust the whole way. “Where are we even goin’?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Nebula groaned.

“Hey, it’s part of being a P.I.,” Peter said defensively. “Seriously, Gamora, what’s the plan here?”

“I have a contact. One of the lieutenants of the Grandmaster,” Gamora replied, taking long, steady strides. “They’ll make a deal with him so we can hide on Sakaar without intervention, and send forces out for Corvus and Proxima. We can’t let them get me, or else Thanos will gain more power than you can ever imagine.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Peter frowned. He could practically hear Nebula rolling her eyes in response.

Gamora paused. “I know the location of something precious to him. No one, absolutely no one, knows. We need as much distance between him and me as possible. Follow me, the back entrance is over here.”

They slipped in through the ‘back entrance’ - which was really the end of a garbage chute, much to Peter’s chagrin - before emerging in a boiler room. The three of them barely had time to wash up in a nearby supply closet and remove all the grime when the door slammed open and a figure strolled in. Peter let out a startled yelp, while Gamora and Nebula drew their weapons, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Relax, G, it’s me.” A woman stepped into the light with a sort of casual (or perhaps somewhat drunken) swagger. She wore dark armor, white facepaint, and a relaxed smirk. “Who’s this?”

“Quill runs the investigation office on Knowhere. I need him to be part of the deal, too. The Black Order know about him.” Despite herself, Gamora let out a sigh of relief, lowering her sword. “It’s good to see you, Valkyrie. It’s been too long since I last visited.”

“Yes, well, Sakaar isn’t exactly an ideal vacation spot.” Valkyrie dragged her finger through some of the mold accumulating on one of the boilers, wincing slightly as it crumbled to pieces. “The Grandmaster already approved my request for the empty apartment beside mine. It’s not much, but it should serve well as your - temporary - home. There are guards patrolling the halls at all times, not that it’ll do much if your siblings come knocking, but it’s better than nothing.” She gestured for them to follow her, and they began making their way through the maze of hallways in the Grandmaster’s Palace.

“Were you here when Corvus and Proxima tried to smuggle Chitauri weapons by the Sakaaran soldiers a few months ago? I know Thanos also had his eye on the Grandmaster’s champion, whoever it is,” Gamora added.

“The champion doesn’t need weapons, he is the weapon,” Valkyrie replied. “And yeah, I saw those smug bastards hanging around. The good thing is, the Grandmaster does talk to his brother, so he didn’t give up your whereabouts when they asked. But you know, for a P.I., you’re terrible at the ‘private’ end of the deal.”

“Private doesn’t mean anonymous,” Peter interrupted. “And those news articles were - ”

“Whatever,” Valkyrie sighed, waving him off. “There’s a Contest of Champions happening tonight, if you’re interested in chasing down any other leads. They’re a hotbed for illegal activity and just about the only time you’ll see some of the most influential - and immoral - people in the galaxy come out to play. Besides, I know you like a good fight, Gamora.”

“We need a low profile,” Gamora said apologetically. “And an army.”

“You don’t have an arrest warrant?” Valkyrie teased, finally bringing them to a stop in front of their door. “I can make some calls. But I’ll be at the Contest tonight, seeing how my champion is doing. Drop by if you want the information early. Otherwise, I can come by in the morning, provided I even have something.”

“Thank you, Valkyrie.” Gamora’s shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in hours. “If you ever need a favor - ”

“How about a drink?” Valkyrie smirked, yanking the door open. She cocked her chin. “Go on, get inside.”______

Peter, much to his dismay, spent the next few hours sitting on the couch and twiddling his thumbs impatiently, watching as Gamora and Nebula pored over the documents that he hadn’t even realized Gamora had taken - or more accurately, stolen - from his office. They were knelt at the coffee table opposite him, photos and articles spread out all over its surface, muttering to each other under their breaths like they didn’t want him to hear. “What was it like?”

Gamora looked up at him. “What?”

“Your life with Thanos. I guess I still don’t really know the whole story,” Peter shrugged.

Nebula shot Gamora a disbelieving look, but Gamora shook her head in return, moving to sit beside Peter instead. She twisted her hands in her lap, contemplating what she wanted to tell him. It alarmed her to think that she was just about ready to tell him everything. “Thanos started off as an influential member of Titan’s social circles, making his way up the ranks. He became more and more corrupt as time went on, as he began believing in things that no one should ever believe, fighting for causes that were misguided and harmful. He truly thought he knew what was best for the planet, and eventually, for the rest of the universe. He was frustrated by the lack of movement by the Titan government, and believed it simply came down to money.”

“So he started dealing in illegal trade; nothing too harmful, just goods that were banned for one reason or another. Then it became drugs. Then weapons. Then…people.” Gamora swallowed. “Both Nebula and I were taken from our parents as children, and intended to be sold for…other purposes. But for whatever reason, he decided to keep us instead. He raised us to be his protectors, and then his lieutenants. We were never left alone until a year ago, when he became too greedy, and sent out every last one of his Children to carry out jobs for him at the same time. That’s how we ended up being sent to Morag by ourselves.”

Peter nodded thoughtfully. “And he’s making a play on…what was it you said? The Infinity Stones?”

“Tivan is in possession of one. It’s why he helped Nebula and I find a place to stay, free of charge. In exchange, we protect his business and his life from our father, as shady as he may be,” Gamora replied. “And you? How did you come by Knowhere?”

“Finishing one last job.” At her confused expression, he patted the empty spot on the breast of his jacket, where the ghost of a cloth patch remained. “Ex-Ravager. But I wanted to get out of that life, do somethin’ honest. Cleaning up the streets of Knowhere seemed like a good start. Then I met Drax, and he told me all about what happened to his family and countless others…it just made sense.” He smiled apologetically. “I guess I’ve been keeping things from you, too.”

“That’s why the Nova Corps know you so well!” Gamora exclaimed. “You’ve done prison time.”

“More than I wanna think about,” Peter chuckled sheepishly. “Okay, so I was hard on you earlier. We both got pasts that we kept from each other ‘cos it was convenient, and I decided to be a hypocritical a-hole about it. I just…I thought I’d grown to trust and care about someone who wasn’t who I thought she was, at all.”

Gamora smiled gently, nudging his knee with hers. “I wasn’t pretending to be someone else. I promise, all I did was conceal my former affiliation with Thanos. Everything else is true. In fact, I’ve never felt more myself when I was with you and the others. I meant it when I said I was enjoying my time with the team. I never had any intention of harming you, ever. All I wanted was a legal way to take Thanos down, see if I could follow the law and stop him, instead of just killing him outright. When your agency’s name popped up, it just…it felt right.”

Before Peter could respond, Nebula let out a sudden snarl of distaste. They both looked up, only just realizing that she had crossed the room to stand guard by the window. “Chitauri,” she hissed.

“You see the weapons?” Gamora jogged over to join her, Peter following closely behind.

“No…Chitauri.” They both followed Nebula’s pointed finger, eyes widening in horror as at least thirty Chitauri soldiers marched their way through the startled Sakaaran crowd, knocking over every last passerby without so much a glance. They didn’t appear to have a commander with them, or a particular target, but their presence could only mean one thing.

“Thanos is here,” Gamora said in a near-whisper, stepping back from the window. “He might not know that we’re here, but he’s already come for the Grandmaster’s champion.”

Peter blinked. “So, uh, something tells me we should rethink skippin’ out on the Contest of Champions, after all.”______

Valkyrie, unsurprisingly, was delighted to hear they had changed their minds. She sent some clothes ahead for them in preparation, and invited them to sit with her in the Grandmaster’s private box (“I usually decline since some of his other favorites are creepy, but if you’re taking on the Mad Titan himself, you at least deserve a good view,” she had grinned salaciously). Peter, meanwhile, felt like he was experiencing deja vu from the previous night (had that really only been just yesterday?) with Gamora on his arm, only this time she was wearing ceremonial Sakaaran armor instead of an evening dress.

“Scrapper 142, how about that! You finally decided to join me, after all these years,” the Grandmaster beamed, squeezing Valkyrie’s hand with a vigorous shake. “You’re always hidin’ up in the nosebleed section on that rustbucket of yours, I was almost about to give up asking. But I’m sure glad I didn’t, hey?”

“I brought my guests with me. I thought they’d appreciate the view,” Valkyrie replied, gesturing behind her.

“Why, hello there. Aren’t you all somethin’ to look at?” The Grandmaster’s scrutinous gaze was intense enough, but the twitchy eyelash fluttering soon became too much for anyone’s comfort, and the three of them quickly settled into their seats on Valkyrie’s other side.

“You must have seen the Chitauri soldiers arriving earlier,” Gamora murmured to Valkyrie, who hummed in confirmation. “Any progress on finding combatants?”

“Let’s just say that you really owe me that drink,” Valkyrie said, grinning. “How does the full force of the Asgardian army sound?”

Peter leaned around Gamora. “How’d you pull that off?”

“It’s…a long story.” Valkyrie’s face fell a little, her mouth twisting unpleasantly. “Now hush, it’s starting.”

The next hour went by in a blur, starting with a couple warm-up fights that were only mildly interesting. They were far more invested in scanning the crowd for any signs of the Chitauri or worse, the Children, than to pay much attention to some lackluster combat. Gamora was steadily becoming more anxious as time went on, half-expecting Thanos to burst through the fighter’s gates at any moment and tear her apart. Then:

“Is that him?”

Gamora and Nebula went numb, cold sweat breaking out across their foreheads at the familiar baritone that rumbled not too far behind them. Oblivious to their predicament, the Grandmaster go to his feet, cheerful as ever as he greeted the newcomer. “No, no, not yet, much too soon. Trust me, you’ll know my beloved champion when you see him. Sit, sit. I’ll give you the rundown on what you’ve missed, huh?”

“Aw, crap,” Peter muttered under his breath. Through his peripheral vision, he watched as the Mad Titan himself settled into the chair on the Grandmaster’s opposite side, resting his elbow on his knee as he leaned forward, furrowing his brow, squinting intently into the stadium. He didn’t need to look behind him to know Gamora and Nebula were absolutely petrified. “Hey, uh, Valkyrie, can you do something?”

Valkyrie stood abruptly. “I’m taking my guests to the bar,” she announced loudly, quickly yanking Gamora and Nebula up by the wrists and practically shoving them out the door. Peter sprinted after them as they exited the Grandmaster’s private box, ducking into a side stairwell, away from the watchful eye of the Chitauri soldiers stationed at the doors.

“I wasn’t expecting him to be that close,” Gamora said breathlessly. She seemed seconds away from vomiting profusely. “We didn’t plan for this. We can’t take him on, not now, not without the full force of an army behind us.”

“So what, we run? He’s right there!” Peter exclaimed. “Let’s get the frickin’ guy and get this done.”

“You don’t know him like we do, Quill. He may look like nothing more than a brute, but he’s far too clever. He would have to be to get this far.” Gamora raked her fingers through her hair, pacing back and forth, her heels clattering against the metal grates below. “Our only option is if we can catch him by surprise. I might have an idea, but it means we have to go find his transport pod and wait for his return.”

“This better be a damn good idea, because I didn’t come here to die,” Nebula grumbled.

“It’s the best I’ve got,” Gamora shrugged with a wistful smile.

“I’ll go back to the box and keep an eye on him,” Valkyrie offered. “Besides, the Grandmaster’s champion is my friend. I need to make sure he doesn’t get traded off Sakaar, not before his other friends come to take him home.”

Peter looked puzzled. “Friends?”

“Another long story. Now go before the Grandmaster gets suspicious. It doesn’t usually take me this long to order drinks,” Valkyrie chuckled wryly.

The three of them moved to leave, keeping their eyes and ears open for Chitauri soldiers, though Gamora couldn’t help but call over her shoulder, “At this rate, I owe you the entire top shelf!” as she sprinted away.______

Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult to find Thanos’s transport pod among the swarm of vehicles and spacecraft crowded in beneath the Grandmaster’s Palace, considering it was surrounded by Chitauri soldiers. They ducked behind a rundown M-ship, watching intently as the soldiers circled the pod in slow, menacing strides. “You’re lucky I remembered to take my blasters to the office,” Peter whispered, unearthing them from his bag. “And you guys got your - where the hell have you been keeping swords?” Nebula merely glared at him in lieu of a verbal response. “Alright, alright, sorry I asked.”

“Forget your guns, Quill,” Gamora murmured, gently pushing his hands down. “The Chitauri are tough; they require brutality, not bullets. Remember my instructions?”

“Get into the pod, send out a scrambled tracking signal. Once the pod docks with Sanctuary, we can track him wherever he goes,” Peter recited diligently. “I mean, not gonna lie, I’m kinda bummed out we’re not gonna take him down for good today.”

“It’ll be better in the long run,” Gamora smiled sadly. “Find the rest of his operations, all the little hiding spots that even we didn’t know about.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Peter nodded. “We don’t exactly have the authority to kill or arrest him, either. Hell, he could probably kill me with a snap of his fingers.” The sisters both stared at him incredulously. “What?”

“Stay here and wait for our signal,” Gamora said firmly. “When you have a clear path, make it quick - get in, get it done, get out.”

“Yeah, I got it - oh.” Peter watched helplessly as Gamora and Nebula went barreling over the broken wing of the ship, charging into the crowd of Chitauri soldiers with a mighty cry. They barely had time to react before the sisters descended upon them, slashing their way through every single body like they were made of paper, the ground rumbling with the sheer weight of the army’s sudden collapse. “Okay, I’ll just be back here - ”

“Now, Peter!” Gamora hollered over the sounds of metal hitting flesh and the helpless screams of fallen soldiers, driving her sword straight through a Chitauri’s heart.

Peter nearly tripped over his own feet as he sprinted towards the pod, using his blaster to blow the door open - this was no time to hack the autolock. He collapsed into the pilot’s seat, and with trembling hands, yanked open one of the utility panels underneath the console and began digging around, holding a penlight between his teeth. “Focus, Peter,” he muttered to himself as his shaky fingers untangled the wires that connected the navigation system. The minutes felt like hours as he worked, sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He tried his best not to look out the window to keep an eye on the sisters as they fought a seemingly endless stream of Chitauri, though his heart beat painfully fast out of nervousness for both him and them.

Just as he was finishing up, an enormous thud erupted from somewhere above his head, almost like someone had jumped on top of the pod. Slowly, Peter peered out of the dashboard window, his blood running cold at the realization of who it was. He held his breath as he retreated into a shadowy corner of the already-miniscule pod, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Daughters.” His deep baritone rattled its way through everyone’s bones. “What a surprise.”

“Believe me, we aren’t excited to see you, either,” Nebula growled, brandishing her electrified blades.

“You’ve been doing this for too long, Father. All the pain you’ve caused people…the pain you made us complicit in…it needs to end.” Gamora drew her sword as well. “Either we take you in, or we take you out.”

“You think because you’ve chased a few leads, solved a couple crimes, called yourself a private investigator, you’ve absolved yourself.” Thanos let out an unsettlingly dark chuckle. “Oh, Gamora. Still unbearably naive, all these years later. Still believe that your purpose is to help others, when your purpose is to save them.”

“I will not help you find the Soul Stone. It will do you no good in your quest for ‘salvation’ or whatever it is you tell yourself to feel better about your irreversible sins,” Gamora snarled. “I want to wash my hands of your wretchedness and atone for my own. We can do this the easy way, Father. Let us take you to the Nova Corps. Confess to everything you’ve ever done - give them numbers, give them names. Live the rest of your days freed from your truths, or they will hunt you down for the rest of time.”

“And you think they’ll listen to me?” Thanos advanced, his strides long and thundering against the dense Sakaaran soil. “Or will they kill me where I stand? What do you know of freedom, Gamora? Or truth?” He leaned down, bringing himself eye-to-eye with his daughter. She held her breath for a moment, taunting him with her silence. Then he knocked her sword clean out of her hand and grabbed her by the wrist in one fell swoop, yanking her up into the air. Gamora shouted and spat in his face, struggling to free herself, but his strength far outmatched hers. Peter, still hidden in the pod, dug his fingernails into his palms in anger.

“You always told us we were terrible liars.” Nebula stood tall. “And our freedom began the day we left for Morag.”

With a roar that rivaled his, Nebula ran straight for him, propelling herself up and slashing across the tops of his shoulders with her blades. In his haste to retaliate, Thanos dropped Gamora, who snatched up her sword and went sprinting for the transport pod. Peter watched in confusion as she ducked out of his view, his heart speeding up even faster as Thanos and Nebula continued to spar. The sisters’ reputations, he found, were not for nothing - Nebula, despite her relative size to Thanos’s enormity, was doing her best to keep up, though she seemed to be directing him closer and closer to the pod, the expanse of Thanos’s back grazing the glass every few seconds as she pushed him back.

Finally, there was a pause, though if either of them were out of breath, they didn’t show it. “What do you really think you can accomplish here, Nebula?” Thanos sneered. “Your life was best lived under my guidance, and even then, you had half the strength of your brothers and sisters.”

“And you think you can rattle me, spit venom in my face and pour salt in my wounds. But your words do nothing but fuel my desire to kill you where you stand,” Nebula hissed, narrowing her eyes. “But today…and just today…we have something else in mind.”

Thanos barely had time to blink before Gamora leaped from the top of the transport pod, slicing her sword clean through the shoulder wound on his left, severing his arm completely from his body. He let out a bloodcurdling scream of anguish, collapsing to his knees with a dizzying thud, trying and failing to brace himself on his right hand as his nose hit the dirt.

Gamora landed neatly on her feet, pacing around to his front in a deliberate manner. She pressed the tip of her bloodied sword into the back of his neck, leaving the slightest, almost surgical incision at the top of his spine. “Consider that a warning, Father. You taunt us and doubt us like you weren’t the one who instilled our thirsts for violence and fear.” She glanced briefly at Nebula. “We’ll let you go. But only because you’re currently more useful alive than dead.” Gamora smirked. “Besides…I don’t have the authority to arrest you.” She tilted her chin in the direction of the transport pod. “Leave us. Now.”

Thanos only just managed to struggle to his feet when Peter came crashing through the door of the transport pod, donning a mask and additional gear that Gamora had never seen before. He somersaulted through the air, slapping a small device onto Thanos’s back before flipping right over his head, coming to a stop by Gamora’s side, hovering a few feet above the ground in his jet boots. “Catch you later!” Peter said cheerfully, pressing a button on a remote that also seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Gamora and Nebula watched incredulously as Thanos was suddenly yanked back into the pod with a mighty clang, the door slamming shut after him. Peter unearthed a tablet from his bag, and with a couple quick commands, the pod activated, its engine and systems humming for a brief moment before it shot straight up into space at an immeasurable speed. The three of them stared up at the night sky in dumbfounded awe, Thanos’s helpless thundering shouts fading into the distance.

“Peter…what the…” Gamora breathed, turning to look at him in half-pride, half-disbelief.

Peter merely shrugged. “What? I was in there for a long time. Figured I could put some of my other skills - and old Ravager tech - to good use.”

“Looks like my sister’s faith in you wasn’t as misguided as I thought.” Nebula patted Peter almost condescendingly on the shoulder before turning and walking back toward the Grandmaster’s Palace, stashing her blades back into her boots. “Well? Are we leaving this literal trash planet or not?”

Peter and Gamora looked at each other. “Don’t have to ask me twice,” Gamora remarked with a relieved smile.______

“Still doesn’t feel real.” The three of them had returned to Nebula’s stolen ship after saying brief goodbyes to Valkyrie (and, to their chagrin, the Grandmaster as well). Peter and Gamora were once again sat on the bench, though side by side this time. “I’ve been chasin’ that bastard for ages, and to be that close…to almost beat him…I know I should be more pissed about letting him go, but you made the right call. And the fact we survived at all is a major win.”

Gamora nodded in agreeance. “You know what? I feel the same way. I’ve spent so long running from him and chasing after him at the same time, and to get all the way here…looks like joining your office wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Peter grinned triumphantly. “So…what’re your plans now?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m heading back to Knowhere so I can return to my life, the team. I bet Mantis freaked out the second she realized I was gone. Plus, you kinda took all of our stuff.” He gestured towards the stack of documents currently stashed in her bag. “Anyways, you and Nebula don’t have a place to stay anymore, and there’s no way the Black Order aren’t gonna come back. So where are you gonna go?”

“I…was thinking we would go to Knowhere with you.” Gamora chewed her lip. “After all, we managed to make it this far. Who says we can’t do it again? Actually take Thanos down for good?”

Peter smiled, something soft and sweet and a little mischievous, just like two nights ago on the casino balcony. “Sounds like a plan.”

She broke her gaze, the intensity of his eyes becoming far too overwhelming for her senses, opting to look out at the stars instead. “You had something you wanted to say to me, back at the casino. Something you wanted to ask.”

“Oh,” Peter chuckled awkwardly. “I, uh, don’t worry about it, really.”

“Try me,” Gamora said simply, glancing back at him.

“I was gonna…well, I was gonna ask if maybe, you’d be interested in going to dinner sometime. Just you and me. O - or, it doesn’t have to be dinner, we could go to - I mean, there’s nothing really to do on Knowhere that’s legal, exactly, but - ”

“Elsewhere, then,” she suggested, her smile growing. “We’re both seasoned travelers, after all.”

“Yeah?” The crease between Peter’s brow slowly relaxed, his smile widening in anticipation. “You want to?”

“Oh, why not? I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to ask, or if I should just do it instead.” Gamora reached over to squeeze his hand between both of hers. “So it’s a date…partner.”

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #ok so this isn't 100% true to prompt and is more my interpretation of it #but i hope you enjoy regardless!!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Sin City- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,473

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, implied smut, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

After the police arrived, they cuffed the man who wanted to kill himself, Reggie. That was his name and the man who he killed was named John. You looked around and the bar was empty which you expected. You saw cops everywhere you looked and you thought it would be best if you got the hell out of there quick.

“We should get out of here. There are too many cops here.” You whispered to Sam and Dean.

“Yeah, but just be cool,” Dean muttered back to you.

“Man, that poor bastard. The only thing possessing him was a six pack.” You said to Sam and Dean while walking to the front of the bar.

“So, what’s the deal? People in this town getting possessed or not?” Sam asked the million dollar question.

“I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is— a town full of scumbags.” Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” You said and as soon as you walked out of the bar, you were greeted by a handsome police officer in a tighter than normal uniform.

“Y’all ready for your mugshots?” The officer asked the three of you. Immediately you all stiffened up at his words and you were about to question him when he elaborated. “The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper.”

“I’d be an honor, Officer. What a thrill!” Dean said, faking enthusiasm.

“We really should get going,” you suggested and the cop nodded, knowing when he wasn’t wanted. He smiled at the three of you and headed off to the other group of cops.

“Wait a second, wait,” Dean said, looking around the parking lot.

“What is it?” You asked.

“There is no one inside, right?”

“Yeah, the place is empty, why?”

“Then where’s Richie?” Dean asked and you three shared the same look. Richie had gotten himself into trouble.

“No, the question is… Where’s the bartender?” You noticed she was gone too.

In the morning, when Sam was still sleeping, Dean was obsessing over finding Richie. You knew how to hack into many things and tracking his phone was one of your skills. Dean gave you Richie’s number and you did your thing, trying to track his phone. It turned out that he was still in town and you got an address and since it was still early, you and Dean set off to find him.

What you came to find wasn’t what you expected. You found Richie alright but he was dead in some woman’s basement. You swore as Dean picked him up, pissed at whoever did this. Dean didn’t want to just leave him there and while he was giving him a proper burial, you looked around the basement to see if you could find out who did this.

You saw pictures of the bartender hanging around and you thought this was her home but you didn’t think she was capable of doing such a thing until you came across something huge.

“Dean, you need to see this!” you yelled out to him. He finished with what he was doing and walked to you, seeing the pictures of you, Sam and Dean along with someone named Crowley. You didn’t know what this was but you figured she was the demon you were tracking since she had kept tabs on you three.

“Trotter isn’t the demon, it’s her. She must have killed Richie. Poor Richie.” You finished with a sigh.

“Okay, look, Sam can’t know about this yet. Look, I have a plan but I need you to know that this isn’t real and my only goal is trapping her in here.” Dean said, getting out the can of spray paint he had in the duffel bag he brought with him in case Richie was in danger.

“What are you thinking?” You asked, seeing him start to spray paint underneath the rug that was inside the basement. Dean looked up at you before going back to painting. As he worked, Dean told you what he wanted to do and even though you didn’t like it, you wanted to kill this bitch for killing Richie.

“Alright, fine.” You said, leaving the basement with Dean to get Sam and go back to the bar where the bartender worked. You learned her name was Casey and she wasn’t the best of people to be around, you learned.

You and Dean sat at a table in the back, Sam getting the beers at the bar. The place was filled with people as if what happened yesterday didn’t even happen at all. You wondered just how often this sort of thing happened in this town. Sam came back to the table with three beers and sat opposite of you and Dean.

“Any luck?” Sam asked, noticing the disappointed look on Dean’s face.

“How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?” Dean said with a shake of his head. This was all part of the act since you didn’t want Sam knowing what happened just yet.

“Dean, you're assuming he's missing. I mean, maybe he just bailed.” Sam tried to think of the positive side of this situation.

“Sam, you don’t know this guy. He’s a moron, a sweet moron but he’s no coward. He wouldn’t just bail on us. We have to go find him.” You said, putting up an act.

“Alright, then in the meantime while you two do that, I’m going to find this Trotter guy,” Sam said, standing up.

“Why? He’s not a demon.” You said to him.

“I want to have a talk with him.” That is all that Sam said before leaving the table. You sighed and turned to Dean, wondering where you were going to start.

“Okay, that was weird. Why is he going after this guy?” you asked Dean. Maybe he knew something you didn’t.

“Look, he shouldn’t get away with what he did to you.”

“What are you talking about? The only reason I didn’t sock him in his jaw is because I didn’t want any trouble and the men he was with were huge. I mean, MMA huge. I know I can defend myself but two of them against me, even I couldn’t come out of that fight.”

“I’m talking about women aren’t objects. He shouldn’t get away with treating you or any woman like that. Sam and I talked about it last night while you were sleeping. He going to teach him a lesson.” Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you not hear what I just said? These men were huge. I know Sam is big and all but these men looked as if they could kill Sam with one punch.” You said, kind of not surprised they would do this.

“Come on, Sam can handle himself.” Dean showed no concern for his brother.

“Whatever, don’t come crying to me when Sam is severely injured because he couldn’t keep it to himself.” You scoffed, just now noticing a woman approaching your table.

“Wow, I have to tell you, every woman in this place want to eat you up,” she said, putting all of her attention to Dean.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, making her look at you.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, I didn’t come over here to talk to just him. Look, I normally charge $400 dollars a night. But, since you basically saved this entire bar, why don’t we get the hell out of here. Just the three of us?” The hooker suggested with a wink to both of you. Was she suggesting a threesome?

“Who the fuck do you think we look like? Go back to the whorehouse you fucked your way through.” You glared at her, offended she would even come up to you and say that. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, flipping you off before walking away.

“Wow, did I just see you two strike out with a prostitute?” You looked up and saw the bartender that was missing yesterday. She was cleaning the table in front of you and Dean.

“Please tell me you’re not like her,” you asked of her, hoping she was better than this.

“Oh God no, I know my own self-worth,” She chuckled, walking over to your table, putting the dirty rag over her shoulder.

“Hey, mind if I ask you a question?” Dean spoke up and she nodded, waiting for him to ask. “You got something going with some guy, you know, about 6 foot, wears a sweatsuit...?”

“Who?” She asked and you didn’t know if she was lying or telling the truth.

“Nah, never mind about that,” Dean said, sipping his drink.

“Okay, I gotta know, what’s the situation here?” Casey asked, leaning against the table.

“What do you mean?” You wondered.

“Are you two dating? Just friends? Siblings?” Dean chuckled and he looked at you before looking at Casey.

“Nah, she’s my sister. Why? You looking to have a bit of fun?” Dean asked, smirking at the bartender. You bit your own tongue to keep from acting out. This was all part of the plan but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Yeah, are you sure you can handle it?” She asked, leaning closer to Dean. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at this bitch.

“Why don’t you tell me what time you get off and then I can see just how much of you I can handle.” Dean flirted back.

“Why wait? I can get off now.” She said with a wink before walking off.

“This bitch doesn’t know who she’s messing with.” You growled under your breath.

“Look, I know you don’t like it and I don’t either but this is the only way to get her back to the basement. She knows who we are and she wants to kill us. But she won’t get the chance. You know how I feel about you.” Dean whispered to you.

“Yeah, I know. Send this bitch back to where she came from.” You muttered and pulled away from Dean when you saw her come back to the table, this time without her uniform on.

“Let’s go.” She said, holding her hand out. Dean looked at you before grabbing her hand and walking away from the table and out the bar. You chugged your beer before getting up and paying the drinks. You sighed and walked out of the bar to see Casey and Dean get into the Impala. You rushed over to a car in the back and hotwired it, getting inside before following Dean and Casey back to her place.

You were his backup if anything went wrong. You drove behind the two, your headlights off since you could see without them and parked 100 yards behind them and getting out. You ran across the field and saw Dean and Casey walk into the basement where you had set the trap up. You rushed to them just as the door closed. You sighed and pressed your ear against it and was thankful that it was thin enough to hear what they were saying.

“Looks like the maid's day off,” Dean commented. There was silence for a few minutes before Dean spoke again. “Everything okay?” You couldn’t hear what happened next but you heard shuffling and you hoped Casey stepped into the trap you two set up.

“Oh, I forgot to mention... Richie was a friend of mine. When I realized I could track the GPS in his cellphone, I swung by earlier, gave him a proper burial. It's better than rotting in some skank's basement.” Dean said, giving up his cover. You heard Casey growl but no fight which meant she was in the devil’s trap.

“Sorry sister, you’re going back to where you came from,” Dean said and you pictured him taking out the book with the exorcism ritual on it. You heard Casey laugh which confused you a lot.

“I don’t think so,” Dean ignored her and began reading the book, his Latin perfect. You could remember the nights when John was out hunting and Sam was asleep only for you and Dean to be practicing your Latin. It took a long ass time to get it right but you both managed to perfect it. It’s a shame Latin is almost a dead language.

You heard Dean chanting the verse when you felt and heard the door rattle. You backed up a bit, not knowing what was happening since it was impossible for the wind to be coming from inside the place. Just then, you heard a thump come from inside and the walls of the basement came crashing down. The basement walls were made of stone and when you opened the doors to see if you could get inside, the whole entrance was blocked from the rocks.

“Dean!!!” You yelled, trying to move the rocks but they were really heavy. You couldn’t hear anything that was going on since the rocks were so much thicker than the wooden door and you had no idea what to do. You were glad that you came along but angry that Dean was trapped inside with a demon.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You muttered, taking out your cell phone. You thought before exploring this house, it would be best if you got some backup first and Sam was looking really nice at the moment. You dialed Sam, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hey, where the hell are you two?” Sam answered the phone.

“Look, that bartender is the demon. She killed Richie and now she and Dean are trapped in the basement and I have no way of getting to her or to Dean and I need your help. I’ll text you the address.” You said and Sam agreed to be there as soon as possible. You sighed and dialed your dad, knowing it would be best if he was here too.

“Hey, any luck?” You dad said when he answered.

“Yeah, look, Dean is stuck in the basement with the demon and I have no way of getting to them. I called Sam but I might need your help.” You explained.

“On my way. Fortunately for you, I got the Colt up and running.” Bobby said as he started his car.

“Great, we’re going to need it. Wait, how did you fix it?” You asked.

“Not the time,” Bobby said before hanging up. You frowned and sighed, walking over to the Impala. You peered inside and didn’t see his weapons and knew they were all in the trunk and the only way to get inside the locked trunk was with Dean’s keys which were in his pocket. You sighed and didn’t know what else you could do except wait so you thought of a plan before Sam or Bobby could arrive.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @oreosatmidnight @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester @earthtokace @gingersnapped13 @superrandomnatural @my-wayward-heroes @stevetrevorstardis @supernaturallover2002 @teamfreewillsstuff @gucci-daddario @22sarah08 @gh0stgurl ​

#supernatural series rewirte #sin city #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #spn series rewrite #dean x reader #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fiction #series rewrite #season 3 episode 4 #s3e4 #s3e4 spoilers #spn #spoilers #spn spoilers #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #sam winchester #bobby singer

[arazialotis]

Back Of A Cop Car - Part 2

Word Count: Around 4600  

Pairing: Dean x Sheriff!Reader

Summary: The reader meets Sam in her last year of high school and is head over heels for his older brother Dean. When they finally get a moment alone, it is short lived and they both end up in more trouble than they signed up for. 

Part 1

More than ten years later Sam and Dean come back to town to finish a job their father had started. Yet they are both caught off guard when a familiar face makes their job a whole lot harder. 

Warnings: Language, General mentions of regular SPN violence/gore

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

------

It had been a few days since Officer Benoza had come crying to your office about evidence she had misplaced but it had turned up in the end. Though reminiscing in the past had brought back a longing. You wondered what had become of both Sam and Dean. Had Sam made it to Yale or Hartford? Did Dean escape the family business and trek off on his own? Had either of them found someone and settled down? You sure hadn’t aside from the relationships that lasted a few months every now and then. But as soon as you made sheriff, the dating scene halted completely.

You laughed pulling Dean’s mugshot from your desk, remembering his devilish charm but the picture now showed such boyish and innocent features, you wondered how he had changed, if you would even recognize him if you crossed paths. Your mugshot, however, was framed on the wall. Once you joined the force, the pranks became old real quick, it seemed better just to display it out in the open.

It followed you to the sheriff’s office. Yes, you were young to be in this position, but you were smart and you had proven yourself time and time again in the field. Officer Stevens was no longer with the force, although you did work a couple years by his side. He was the one that pushed you towards criminal justice and to run for sheriff. You cried a bit at his retirement party, but he found a way to keep in trouble; coming around the station frequently, giving you advice on cases he was following in the paper.

Of course when you needed his guidance and advice the most, he was off fishing in the Bahamas. Aside from him, only Officer Murillo had worked the previous case but not down in the nitty gritty. Regardless, the both of you had been putting countless hours of overtime pouring over every last detail. The previous case had ended as deemed that the murderer had committed suicide. But the details were so strikingly similar, you doubted even a copycat could pull this off with such precision. Besides all the evidence they had on the perp was circumstantial. The true murder could have seen his opportunity and laid low for a few years but the itch was just to strong and they began again.

Unfortunately, press was much different nowadays than it was even just ten years ago. With constant headlines on facebook and television, you avoided it all together. The following afternoon, having only left the office six hours ago, you were back on duty. You made your way into the office, a latte in had with perhaps two or three extra shots of espresso. Murillo had the day off, and you made sure he wouldn’t come in. In the lobby the tv was on as usual, reporting on morning news.

A male reporter with a fake tan and unnaturally white teeth was discussing the recent case. “Realistically, Sherriff Y/L/N has only been on the job for a year and a half, how can someone lose their touch if they never had it? You have to wonder if she’s the right man for the job.”

You rolled your eyes. Sexist pig. If you weren’t held to an ethical standard, you would be tempted to target him for speeding. “Can you change the channel?” You requested out of annoyance.

“Sure thing boss.” The tiny young receptionist peeped, switching channels immediately to some soap opera. “Hey, don’t listen to them. They are not here everyday seeing the hours and effort you are putting in.” “Thanks.” You mumbled and headed for your office closing the door behind, not really wanting the pep talk.

Dean’s photo still laid on your desk from last night. But you pushed a pile of papers over it, looking for the most recent criminal profile; male, satanic/cult ritualistic tendencies, long term resident to know people's routines and schedules, knowledge of medical procedures and autonomy. It was all stuff you heard before. It also contradicted the first case closure, the girl who it all was pinned on. To make things worse, there were apparently FBI agents wanting to get involved as well. Although you haven't had enough caffeine for social interaction, you headed out of your office to check on any new leads through the fingerprints and DNA found at the most recent scene.

---

Around 4 PM, Sam and Dean pulled up to station. Dean shifted the Impala into park and straightened his tie while checking his teeth in the mirror. Sam sat motionless, still upset about the situation.

“I still don’t like this idea.” Sam stated.

“Cheer up pal.” Dean patted Sam’s chest and hopped out of the car.

Sam followed him, continuing to argue. “All I’m saying is there is usually a reason we don’t come back to previous cases. We should have called another hunter in on this.” “What? You think someone is going to remember us? Weren’t you like in middle school last time we were here?” Dean asked.

“I was a senior.” Sam corrected.

“Your hair has, what, grown three feet since then? No one is going to recognize us. A lot has changed in 10 years.” Dean rambled heading up the stairs to the police station. “We just have to go in with confidence that’s all.”

Dean pushed open the doors, the layout and decor greatly updated since he last remembered it. With no recognizable faces, he was on a role. He took the lead and headed directly to reception.

“Hey there sweetheart.” He leaned over the counter, grinning at the receptionist. “I had called in earlier about some files.”

She giggled, lost in his smile. “Oh of course, let me call my boss up quick…” She picked up the phone dialing your extension. “Sorry, she’s not picking up, let me go look for her.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably next to Dean, keeping a watchful eye.

“There’s no reason to waste her time.” He pulled out his FBI badge. “I’m sure this is all you need. I’ll leave my card as well.” He assured with a wink.

The receptionist looked at the badge, debating.

You were coming back from forensics, when you noticed the two suits standing in your lobby. One of them leaning over, clearly making eyes at the receptionist. It must be the feds, you knew you had to introduce yourself now or later, might as well be now. The tall one with the long hair turned around. Both of your eyes went wide with surprise and recognition. All the sleep deprivation magically left your system replaced by excitement.

“Sam Winchester!” You squealed, running in for a hug.

“Y/N?!” Sam was just as ecstatically surprised as you at first, embracing you in a hug before shooting Dean a ‘I told you so’ scorn.

Dean straightened up and cleared his throat upon realizing it was you.

You stepped back getting a better look of Sam. “I thought I’d never see you again! God, it’s has to have been ten years at least?” He still had that brightness you remembered so well.

“Yeah, I was hoping to run into you.” Sam tried to match your eagerness.

You glance at his partner and your heart hit the floor. “Dean?” His bad boy charm had matured; his jaw more chiseled, weariness in his smile, but those luminescent eyes still promised thrill and danger. Jealousy rose in your chest knowing he had been shamelessly flirting. You tried to stand a little taller.

“Wow.” Dean felt his heart flutter, the years had been more than generous to you. “Sheriff?” He noticed the star on your chest. “Who woulda thought.” Sam grew evermore anxious.

“Not me that’s for sure.” You laughed. “So what are you all doing in town? Sorry, it’s just so unexpected.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Sam tried to recover. “Just on business.” You noticed the badge still in the receptionist’s hand.

“Federal Investigation business, that is.” Dean added following your eyes.

You took the badge and examined it. “Bullshit.” No chance in hell either one of them was FBI.

Sam chuckled nervously sensing the change of atmosphere.

“Tell ya what.” Dean fished out a card. “Why don’t you just call our supervisor and he’ll straighten all this out.”

“How about I run the badge myself.” You declined to take his card. “Sam shall I check yours too while I’m at it?” Sam went from nervous to overly cheesy. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it anymore... We are passing through town, just on business, and definitely wanted to see you. And we just.” He paused to laugh. “Though it would be hilarious to prank you while we were at it.” The lack of amusement on your face clearly stated you were not buying it. “So, uh, when you aren’t busy, um, do you want to grab dinner or something?”

“Yeah… sure.” You passively agreed.

“Awesome. Should we exchange numbers or just call 911?” Dean joked.

You pulled a smirk having heard it several times before. You wrote your cell on your business card and handed it to Sam. “Hopefully it will work out, we’ve been awfully busy around here trying to catch a serial killer…” You stated only to gauge their reaction.

They exchanged glances. “Really, that is… wow...” Sam gasped.

“Just like the time we were locked up in here together Dean… remember?” You continued pushing, the wheels in your head spinning.

“Oh, that’s a night I could never forget.” He assured.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed placing his badge in your pocket fully intending not to return it. “Well, I really should get back to the books. Give me a call though.”

“Right, of course.” Sam agreed. “See you around.” You stayed put as he and Dean turned to exit the lobby. It was only after they were out the front door that you ran to the window. They seemed to be arguing outside the same chevrolet Dean drove as a kid. You went to the reception’s phone.

“I was going to look for you, I swear.” She defended.

You hushed her dialing Benoza’s extension. “Hey. I got a gut feeling about something. You up for some tailing?” She was more than happy to obliged.

You took a seat back in your office closing the door blaming the caffeine overload for your swirling head. Perhaps the years had fogged your memory, but the boys you remembered weren’t capable of such things, especially Sam. Yet your instincts screamed at you. The coincidence that they were in town with a string of murders with the exact same pattern as the case ten years ago; the only other time they were in your town, then mysteriously vanished.

Against your own will, not wanting to know the truth, you dug through the system’s old records, locating Dean’s file. Fingerprints and all. Your finger hovered over the mouse before building up the courage to hit scan. Since the latte you had since moved onto regular pot of coffee. You went to refill but before you even started to pour, you already heard the ping indicating a match. You poured the glass, already hearing another and then another.

It must be malfunctioning you thought, setting the cup down and heading back over to your desk. Upon seeing the results, your stomach turned over and immediately you grabbed for the trash can to spit up. His prints alone were associated with countless unsolved murders, grave desecrations, weapons, blood trails; the list went on and on, and those were just Dean’s.

You wiped your mouth with a tissue, blaming again the coffee for the incident. You texted Benoza: Someone on them at all times. No. 1 suspect, will debrief you later. She responded her understanding. Meanwhile, you were going to head back to the latest scene of the crime, if you could pin Dean or Sam there, you could bring them in for questioning; potentially more. 

---

“Do I need to say it?” Sam sternly asked. Dean blew him off. “We don’t work old cases.”

“Come on Sam. It’s Y/N we’re talking about. Sweet little innocent Y/N. This will be easy peasy. In and out. Plus, I can tell she still wants me.” Dean rambled. “Maybe I’ll get a little more out of this case.” 

“It’s not too late, we could still call someone else in.” Sam suggested.

“And give up the chance of what I missed out on ten years ago, no way.” Dean argued.

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I thought Dad had scared you away for good.” Dean clenched his jaw. Sam didn’t know the half of it. “I know he sure did me.” Sam continued.

“Ahh. I’m my own man now.” Dean brushed off the memories.

Sam followed Dean into the Impala. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t arrest you right then and there.”

“Yeah, maybe just to see me in handcuffs again.” Dean teased. “But we’ll call her up, go for dinner, a few drinks, and have a great time.” Dean pulled off onto the street.

“Is that why she’s having us followed?” Sam asked.

Dean looked in his rearview mirror noting the oldsmobile. “We are not being followed.”

Sam stayed silent recognizing Dean’s maneuvers in attempt to loose the car, but after every turn, the oldsmobile quietly crept behind in the distance. 

“Fine, we’re being followed.” Dean gave in. “New plan. We go back to the motel, exit out the bathroom window and head to the scene of the last crime. If we are sure it matches, make sure Dad crossed his t’s and dotted his i’s.”

“Dean, I was there. Dad took care of the mumiho and there’s no chance that thing was going to recover.” Sam explained.

“So you’re telling me the chances of dad screwing up are less likely than two very ancient and very rare Korean spirits hitting the exact same town, oceans apart from its home country, exactly ten years apart.” Dean sarcastically doubted.

Sam pushed his lips together. “What I am saying is we do not have enough details. I haven’t been able to hack my way into the police system yet. From what the press is printing, yes it does seem similar, but for a town this size and history of crime, perhaps they are making connections that aren’t really there.” Sam argued.

“So either way we need to visit the scene of the crime.” Dean repeated.

Sam nodded in agreeance.

----

When Benoza reported that she was staking out the boys at their motel, you decided to get ready and leave for the crime scene. When trading places with the old sheriff, you had passed up on his Bronco just for a regular squad car. Not three minutes had passed since you left the station when you heard a report coming in over the radio for a disturbance at the cemetery.

You grabbed your radio. “It’s on my way, I’ll stop by.” Reading what you just had learned about Dean, it raised your suspicions.

Once you arrived you instantly regretted it. “Mr. MacGregor,” You addressed the groundskeeper. “I think you need to contact animal control.”

He had shown you around. At least four graves had the same two foot wide holes. All occuring on different nights. You clicked your flashlight on, squatted down, and shown it into the hole, unable to see the bottom.

“That’s what I thought at first too, but animals don’t go digging holes that deep and especially breakthrough…” He explained.

You stood up, brow furrowed together. “Breakthrough… the coffins?”

He nodded his head and pulled out a locket. “This was just inside the hole this morning. Caught on a root.” You grabbed a rubber glove from your back pocket and took a look to examine it. The engraving on the back the same as the head stone.

“I was here when they buried her. She was wearing it. Metal casket too…” He explained.

You place the locket in an evidence bag. “I’ll send some officer’s out to gather more evidence. Also, animal control…” You looked at the hole again not noticing traditional shovel marks. “Just to get their input. I expect you’ll cooperate with them?” “Of course ma’am.” He assured. “But you should know. There this woman been coming around at night too. Never got a good look at her.”

“Hmmm. You think she’s got something to do with it?” You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright… Let the other officers know as well… they’ll look for prints, get a more detailed statement…” You assured him.

You sighed getting back into the squad car, setting the evidence aside on the passenger's seat. You did some quick paperwork and radioed in two officers to come by to take a closer look. Lastly, you phoned over to animal control who ensured they would come by as soon as possible. Honestly it was a bit relieving not to have pinned Dean here yet; to think it was just an animal no matter how weird the circumstances.  Everything you were taught lead you to believe that Dean and/or Sam was the murderer, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to accept it, not 100 percent at least.

---

The sun was setting when Sam and Dean had made their way to the latest victim’s house. The door was sealed shut with tape and a warning notifying anyone except police not to enter. Dean whipped out his pocket knife and tore through the wrap, allowing them both inside. They searched around a bit, eliminating the obvious; cold spots, sulfur, EMF.

“This is pointless.” Sam complained. “We need to examine the bodies.” “The police aren’t looking for what we do, they most likely missed something in the case.” Dean reassured. “Besides, wait a couple more hours and we can break into the station since you can’t break into their website.” “Shut up.” Sam groaned.

Dean waltzed to the kitchen and flipped on the light. “Hey, did the neighbors mention anything about a dog?” He nodded to the muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor.

Sam knelt down and got a closer look. Dean knew very well there were no neighbors, they were on the very outskirts of town. He pulled out his phone to compare. “They do appear… fox-like.” Dean clapped his hands together. “That’s all I need to know. So, where’s the den of the one you supposedly killed.” “Supposedly killed? I was…” Sam started to argue but he was cut off by the sound of gravel crunching underneath tires.

Sam tired the window in the kitchen but it was jammed. Dean quietly raced to the front window, pulling the curtain slightly aside to peek out.

“Oh great, it’s your high school BFF.” Dean snarked. “Is there a back door?” Dean whispered to Sam. Sam shook his head no. The both heard the sound off boots on the front porch. “Find a way out, I’ll distract her.” “What? No.” Sam quietly protested.

They both paused at the sound of the door creaking open. “Get out.” He mouthed to Sam and quietly walked towards the front.

---

You pulled up to the latest scene of the crime, to process additional evidence, to look at it with fresh eyes, to find incriminating evidence against the Winchesters; whatever the reason you were just glad to be out here away from judgemental eyes. A quiet place where you could just think without that burnt orange of a news anchor peering at your every move.

You wandered up to the front porch, your instincts stopping you before reaching the door. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears realizing the seal had been broke. Hopefully it was just teenagers, a few instantly came to mind. You uncliped your gun from it holster and slowly pushed the door open.

“This is the police.” Your voice felt foreign in your throat. “Let’s make this as easy as possible and come out with your hands up.” “Don’t panic.” You pointed the gun towards the kitchen were the voice was coming from. “It’s just me.” Dean? He waltzed out of the kitchen with his hands in the air.

“Dean Winchester.” You stated.

He smiled and popped his eyebrows. “That’s me.” “You are under arrest for trespassing on a crime scene.” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat.

“Oh come on sweetheart, I was innocent last time and I still am.” He assured with confidence.

“You have the right to remain silent.” You began the Miranda rights. His smile dropped as you put your gun away and replaced them with handcuffs. “Against the wall.” You nodded.

He complied. “You know, if you are into bondage, ya could have just asked.” You were glad he was facing the wall to conceal the blush that grew within you. “Is Sam here with you?” You tried to ignore his rhetoric.

“Just you and me sweetheart, ever since I saw you at the station just wanted to get you alone.” He assured.

“Sam!” You called but did not hear a response. You swear you felt some tension leave Dean. “I need to pat you down.” You warned.

Dean chuckled. “I always enjoy a good frisking.”

Had it been any other male, you would have rolled your eyes. You immediately removed a handgun tucked into his jeans. “I assume you have a permit for this.” You snarked disassembling it and laying it on the nearest table.

Dean chuckled nervously. You removed four other weapons including a bowie knife, another knife with unknown symbols carved into it, as well as a lock pick in his back pocket. He easily followed your push towards the squad car, thinking through his options, he’d gotten out of worse before. You locked him inside and went back to retrieve his weapons and have another look around.

In the meantime, Sam came around to the car and opened Dean’s door but furrowed his brow when Dean didn’t immediately get up and go. “Dude, Let’s go.” He encouraged.

“I got this, I can handle it.” Dean calmly affirmed.

“You in handcuffs.” Sam sniped.

“Kinky, right?” Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes and practically grabbed Dean. “Hey, Hey.” Dean whispered attempting to stay put. “Seriously, I’ll win her over. We’ve done it before.” “I’m not bailing you out.” Sam warned.

“Get outta here.” Dean growled.

Sam sighed but gave in. It would help to have you on their side for this case. He shoved Dean back in and silently closed the door before taking off into the woods.

Coming back out of the house, completely unaware of their interaction, you threw the weapons in the passenger's seat on top of the locket. You sighed picking up your papers so you could record everything that just happened.

“This brings me back…” Dean started. You pretended not to listen, flipping through papers. “I was a wide eyed 22 year old stud… A fiesty girl with no regards for rules or authority sat next to me, that cross around her neck throwing me off at every turn.” You automatically grabbed at it even though it was no longer there. “I don’t know what she had in mind that night, but I was just glad to be by her… She stood by my innocence, even though she had no reason too…”

He was just playing minds games with you. Had to be. Every instinctive thought in your mind blared he was a cold blooded killer but your eyes darted to the rearview mirror and met his piercing green eyes in the back. You looked away flustered.

“Back then she told me a ghost story. I told her there was no such thing. Course, I thought I was protecting her. She didn’t need to know of the truly horrifying things that haunt this world. But maybe she’s old enough know to know the truth.” He rambled.

“She didn’t think monsters were real.” You piped in sarcastically. “Only to learn that she loved one and it now sits in the back of her car.” Shit! You squinted your eyes shut. Did you just use the word love?

Dean smiled and looked down at his feet, taken aback by your words. “I’m not a monster sweetheart, I’m what monsters are afraid of.” 

“So, what? You think of yourself as some sort of vigilante?” You questioned.

He chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, no one is above the law in my town.” You promised.

“Do you hold the ghost and demons to that same standard?” He played.

“If they existed, I’m sure I would.” You affirmed.

“Oh but they do. You just don’t want to believe or don’t have the will to see the patterns.” Dean explained.

“So your saying sweet ol’ Larry who lived in this cabin was some sort of monster and it was your job to put an end to it.” You clarified remember something about religious psychosis or cults in part of the criminal profile.

“No. Larry was a victim. While your wasting your time looking for a serial killer, Sam and I are hunting the real murderer… A kumiho.” He disclosed.

You turned around to face him. “A what?”

“A kumiho. An accent spirit from around East Asia. Goes by different names; Kitsune or Huli Jing. The difference with the kumiho though, it’s always a malevolent creature. It can shift between that of a fox or a woman in white. Always preying on men, cutting out their livers and eating it in order to survive… if it can’t get fresh meat, digs up graves for leftovers…” Dean explained and you shivered in horror unsure if you thought he was capable of such violence or that such a thing could actually exist. “You’re town had a problem with one about ten years ago. I thought my father had taken care of it, but obviously Sam and I need to clean up his mess.”

But you kept on your front. “I’m impressed, Winchester. You’ve obviously done your research. Or should I say your father had.” He raised an eyebrow questioning. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. Obviously, no matter how delusional, your basing these murders on lore that fits with the wave of Korean immigrants that came to mine in this town… oh was it… the 1950s?” “Interesting…” Dean pondered. “I wonder if you went back far enough in your police records if you would find the same pattern… maybe this 10 year thing is a hibernation of sorts...” He theorized.

The radio crackled through. “Y/N, you there?”

You grabbed it. “Yeah, go ahead.” Normally the first thing you would have done was call in the arrest, but you completely glazed over mentioning it now.

“Animal control got back with us… found fur down one of the holes, fox…” They explained over the radio, you gulped down your nerves trying to remain calm. “And, I don’t know… only prints around here we could find where the ground keeper’s… he doesn’t have much else to go one the women… expect dark hair and a long white dress.” 

You made eye contact with Dean through the rearview mirror.

Another officer laughed. “Heh, maybe it was a ghost.”

“Shut up, Marc!” Another cop barked.

“Anyways, we can stake out the night if you think it’s worth following up on.”

You looked at Dean for guidance, he nodded his head. “Yeah, go ahead. It can’t hurt.” You ordered. “But for the love of god, if that over tanned ape of a man shows up, do not engage.” You referred to your favorite news anchor. “I’m going off air for a while. Call my cell in case of emergency.”

“Sure thing boss.” Marc followed up before you clicked off.

“Dean…” You turned back around to meet his eyes. “Let’s say your right... Let’s say I go against my every instinct that says you or your brother somehow planted that fur there…  Where would we start?”

“We go looking for it’s den.” He calmly directed.

Either you were going mentally insane or Dean Winchester was telling the truth. Regardless of which one was right, you were about to place this entirety of this case in the hands of your number one suspect.

-----

Tags:

More Parts to Come

Forever: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith @jotink78 @deanwinchstcrs @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21 @li-ssu @highonpastries @daddy-kink-confirmed @weewooweewoo1212 @carryonmyswansong @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @atc74 @superapplepie @coolness22 @cassieraider @winchesternco @adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67

DeanXReader: @akshi8278 @mywillfulwinchester @dainty-hibiscus @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @mrsbatesmotel53 @tacklesackles @creepykatftw @aubreystilinski

BOACC: @shutupiminlooove @strawberryjuiceboxxx

#dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #spn #spn fandom #spnfanfic #dean x you #dean x y/n #sam winchester #fan fiction

[igottoomuchwriting]

Come To Me

“Yo, Jakey-D!” Jake turned away from his locker to see Rich approaching him.

“Hey!” Jake smiled, giving Rich a fist bump. “What’s up?”

“You gonna go out with uths thiths weekend? The gang iths heading to thiths sthick asths party.” Jake’s face dropped, but went back to a smile before Rich could ask any questions.

“Nah, can’t. Maybe next time?” he asked. Rich frowned, but nodded his head.

“Yeah, of courths. You're alwayths our go-to guy.” Jake smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

“Thanks man.” And then he was gone. Rich watched him walk away with mixed emotions.

“Rich?” he heard a voice call. Rich turned to see Michael looking at him with a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong dude?”

“Have you noticed anything… odd with Jake?”

“I mean,” Michael started, “the only notice I can see is that he is focusing more on school. But I feel like that makes sense, since it is senior year and all.” Rich nodded his head.

“Yeah. Thanksth man.” Michael nodded his head and went on his way.

“Okay, he is getting out of hand!” Chloe exclaimed. Everyone gave her a weird look.

“Who?” Jeremy asked.

“Jake!”

“What are you talking about, Chloe?” Christine asked as she joined them at the table.

“He hasn’t been partying or drinking with us, and he always says he has homework! He isn’t even here eating with us!”

“And he hasn’t had sex with anyone in weeks,” Jenna calmly added. Brooke hit her arm as everyone shot her a dirty look.

“What?” she asked defensively. “Everyone knows when Jake has sex. Things spread fast.”

“I’m right here,” Rich snapped. “We’ve been dating sthince Stheptember.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot,” she hummed, taking a drink of a smoothie she bought.

“How?!” Brooke exclaimed. Jenna just shrugged. The group decided to move on.

“I doubt there’s anything wrong with him,” Michael began. “I think he may just be stressed.”

“Yeah, finding out your parents got arrested can be pretty stressful.” Everyone stopped and whipped their heads towards Jeremy (ignoring Jenna, who choked on her smoothie).

“What?!” they yelled in unison. Jeremy looked at them in confusion before his face lit up in realization.

“Oh shit! Do you guys not read the newspaper?”

“No!” Chloe yelled.

“Oh-Okay. Well, yeah, um,” he stuttered. “They caught his parents. I think they laundered money or something?”

“I remember that!” Christine gasped. “When he was asking me out, he mentioned his parents were on the run!” Everyone looked around nervously.

“So… what do we do?” Brooke nervously asked.

“I mean, I could talk to him?” Even though he suggested it, Rich was unsure. Would Jake really be happy that his friends found out about his parents?

“I think that would be best,” Michael mumbled, giving a side glance to Rich. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Rich leaned forward and placed his head on his arm. Christine asked what everyone thought of the new play, which prompted a heated discussion that Rich didn’t bother to join. He was more focused on Jake.

Rich closed his eyes and thought about how Jake has been acting for the past few days, possibly weeks. Had he been closed off? Was he upset, scared, angry, and Rich just didn’t care to notice?

To [Jakey-D]: hey can i come over

[Jakey-D]: IDK, i have a lot of work :/

To [Jakey-D]: i do too. i need help

[Jakey-D]: with what?

To [Jakey-D]: math

[Jakey-D]: ok

Rich cheered in victory. He didn’t think he would have been able to convince Jake to let him come over, but he’s got those smooth moves.

He ignores the possibility that Jake only cares about helping him with math and nothing else as he pulls on his shoes and head out the door. As he walks , he starts thinking of math problems that he actually did need help with, because he knew that if he got there and Jake found out he lied, wouldn’t be happy.

It wasn’t long until Rich arrived at his house. He didn’t bother to knock - since a month into their relationship , Jake gave Rich permission to just walk in.

“Jake?” he called when he walked in.

“In the dining room!” he heard his voice yell back. Rich took off his shoes and entered the house, heading towards the dining room.

He saw Jake sitting at the table, hunched over a math book with a hand in his hair. He turned his head and got up when he saw Rich walk in.

“Hey, babe,” he mumbled. He placed a hand on Rich’s waist and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Sthup.” Jake chuckled at the lisp, but Rich knew it wasn’t a mocking laugh. He has told him on many occasions that he thought it was cute, so Rich stopped trying to hide it from him. “You look tired.”

“Yeah,” Jake sighed. “I’ve been getting alotta school work and looking at colleges is adding more stress.”

“Why haven’t you come talk to me? You know I’m here for you.” Jake nodded his head.

“Let’s get some homework done, and then we can cuddle or something.”

“Oh, I like the sthound of ‘sthomething’.” Jake laughed and slapped his waist.

“Come on, you horn dog.”

The couple spent the next two hours working on math. Rich had to admit, Jake really did help him understand the trig identities or whatever they were learning right now.

Rich groaned and leaned back in his chair.

“You alright over there?” Jake asked.

“I’m bored. We’ve been doing math homework for hourths!” Jake laughed and closed his math book.

“Okay, we can take a break.” Rich cheered in delight, which made Jake laugh harder.

Rich walked over to where Jake was sitting. “A break waths exactly what I waths thinking.” Rich leaned down for a kiss and Jake happily complied, moving their lips in sync.

Rich placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder, pushing Jake further back in his chair. Jake turned the chair and grabbed Rich by the waist, pulling him closer. However, when Rich tried deepening the kiss, Jake pushed him back.

“Hey, hey,” Jake mumbled when Rich tried kissing him again. “As much as I want to continue, and believe me, your lips are making this hard.” He placed a kiss on Rich’s lips as Rich chuckled. “I have to pee, and I know you don’t have a piss kink.” Rich laughed and stepped back, putting is hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. Go pisths.” Jake nodded his head and stood up, disappearing down the hall.

Rich walked into the kitchen in search for something to drink. When grabbing a cup, he looked down to see a newspaper on the counter. Rich gave it a closer look and saw a woman and a man’s mugshot on the front page. It took only a second for Rich to realize that it was Jake’s parents. Rich quickly grabbed the paper and started reading the article.  

“Babe? Where’d you go?”

“In here!” Rich called, eyes never leaving the paper. He heard Jake walk in, but he still didn’t lift his head.

Suddenly, the paper was ripped from his hands.

“What the fuck, Rich?!” he angrily snapped.

“Jake, what- “Why are you going through my shit?!”

“What do you mean I’m going through your sthit?” Rich gaped. “It waths right here on the counter!”

“That gives you no reason to read it.” He crumbled up the paper and threw it in the trash next to him.

“I think I have a right to look at a newthspaper when my boyfriend’ths parenths are on the front page!” Rich snapped back. He didn’t want to fight, he really didn’t, but Jake was getting defensive and angry, which in turn made Rich angry.

Jake tensed up and kept his eyes trained on the floor. Rich watched him clench his fists and take deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

“What’ths going on, Jake?” Rich finally asked. Jake turned his head away, but otherwise, did not move.

“You read the article. You know exactly is going on.”

“No, I don’t. Let’ths pretend I never read the article.” He paused to watch Jake. “I want to hear from you about what iths going on.” Jake slowly unclenched his fists and relaxed. They sat in silence, neither making a move.

Finally, Jake spoked in a broken voice.

“They’re going to jail, Rich.” Tears welled up in his eyes and Jake furiously rubbed them away. “They-They got caught by the police, an-and they got arrested. Laundering is a federal crime, Rich, and,and I-” A soon as a sob left his mouth, Rich ran over and pulled him into a hug. Jake wrapped his arms around him and buried his head into the crook of his neck, letting out a loud sob. Rich rubbed his back and cooed, trying to comfort Jake.

“I-I don’t w-want to lo-ose them,” he choked out. Rich shushed him.

“I know, Jake, I know.” Rich doesn’t know how long they stood there. Eventually, Jake started calming down, and Rich didn’t stop rubbing his back until there was only sniffles here and there.

“Iths thiths why you’ve been working all the time?” Jake nodded his head and pulled him closer.

“W-With the end of Senior year coming up, I don’t want to be seen as the kid whose parents stole money and ran. Who is gonna stop college and jobs from not hiring me because of it?” Jake took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t want my grades to back that fear.” Rich hummed in agreement.

“Iths that althso why you haven’t been drinking with uths?” Jake nodded his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to risk getting caught.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rich hushed. “Just- Next time, come to me? I waths worried.” Jake pulled back and stared at Rich with his red, puffy eyes. Rich leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Of courth, there ithsn’t going to be a next time.”

Jake chuckled, nodding his head and close his eyes. “I don’t think I want to study anymore tonight,” he softly spoke.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Let’ths go cuddle on our bed and watch a sthow. No school, no college, justht-”

“Inaccurate cop shows,” Jake finished. Rich chuckled.

“Yeah, inaccurate cop shows.”

#RichJake #rich goranski #rich bmc #jake dillinger #jake bmc #be more chill