#should probably save this for my therapist but shes on break and something about this felt necessary

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] THREE

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 5.2k

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

a/n: a lil flashback in this chapter, not too much going on..yet

JANUARY 2006

Shion burst through the living room door, storming over to Ran and waving his phone in his face. “You wanna explain why (Name) just called me up crying because of you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Ran asked through a thick exhale, his thumb idly moving on the joystick of his controller as he picked a location. 

Shion rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. Which is literally why I came here to ask why the fuck you made her cry?”

“I didn’t make anybody cry.”

“Yes you did.”

Rindou glanced over at Shion and fiddled with his controller, amused by the difference in attitudes between both boys. Shion looked like he was two seconds away from throwing his cracked phone at Ran’s face, but was hesitant on doing so because everybody knows how that fight would play out, and Ran looked like it was a regular Sunday afternoon, filled with nothing but playing video games with his brother and snacks.

“I didn’t make anyone cry,” Ran repeated and Shion groaned, rubbing his temples as he remembered how stupid Ran could be and how he lacked in the department of taking accountability. “She called me up and asked if I heard from you and I said yeah, why, then she told me “oh because he hasn’t answered my texts in days so I wanted to check in”, now I come in here expecting to find you dead or something instead you’re just playing fucking video games!”

Ran honestly stopped listening around three words in and successfully chose a location, and a character. Grinning, he nodded over at Rindou as he started to pick his own character. 

“Hello?????!” Shion clapped to get Ran’s attention. “Ignoring me doesn’t change anything. In fact, it proves to me that you’re guilty.”

“Dude. What do you want from me?” Ran looked up at Shion, leaning against the back of the leather couch. “You wanted me to stay away from her so that’s what I’m doing. Now you’re mad that I’m staying away from her?”

“Staying away from her doesn’t mean ghosting her. At the very least let her down easy—”

“Shion,” Rindou started, eyes focused on the tv screen. “You sound so whiny right now. Either sit down and shut the fuck up, or get out. You’re ruining my focus and so help me God if I lose to Ran tonight I’ll break every rib in your body.”

“Calm down Rinnie, save that anger and take it up with your therapist.”

Rindou groaned loudly, letting his head roll back against the couch. “I already told you Ran, I’m not seeing a therapist.”

Shion hummed in disagreement. “I think you should. You’ve just about threatened to break every bone in my body this week alone.” Ran snorted and Shion whipped his head to look at him. “Don’t think I’m finished with you yet. I was against this whole relationship with her in the first place, so just apologise to her and let her down easy.”

“Why?” Rindou asked, putting his controller down on his lap to look up at Shion.

His eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Why…what?”

“Why were you against the relationship?”

“B—because,” Shion cursed himself for stammering, also cursed the way Ran raised his eyebrows, probably the first shred of interest he’s shown in the conversation. 

“Because you love her?” Rindou asked, not looking away from the tv but was far too aware of the way Shion froze in place. Seconds passed as the two brothers waited for a response.

“Because she’s my friend…” Shion started slowly, hoping the message goes through their heads. 

“So?”

“And I don’t want her to get hurt by him.”

“Who said I’d hurt her?” Ran asked, intrigued.

“Your track record of dating speaks otherwise, Ran.” Ran smirked and Shion scowled deeper, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s not something to be proud of.”

“You only say that because you’re a virgin.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, sure whatever.” Ran turned back to the tv and nudged Rindou. “Ready?”

The game started and if their attention spans were already shit before, it was worse now. 

“Ran. Just promise me you’ll end things with her nicely…Last thing I want is her calling me up crying again.”

“Yeah yeah, you got it,” Ran responded with a crooked smile. 

It was probably the most non-committal answer Shion ever heard, if he was honest, but was probably the only answer he was gonna get so with that, he left the house. After winning the next three rounds of Mario Kart, Rindou ended up rage quitting and stalking off to the gym with Kakucho to take his anger out on some punching bags. Meanwhile Ran stalked up to his room, taking his daily nap. He woke around 11pm, almost hitting midnight and pulled out his phone.  

He scrolled past all his messages until he saw yours, all unopened, and felt his heart twitch with guilt for a second as the number of messages over the course of the week started to decrease once you realised he was ignoring you. 

He glanced over at the clock once more. You had a tendency of sleeping through the day, awake at night, so taking his chances, he sent you a text.

Your phone pinged as you were washing the dishes, scrubbing the leftover stains from your mother’s wine glasses, a result of her addiction. Rinsing the soap from your hands, you dried them with a paper towel and grabbed your phone, almost freezing when you saw the contact name.

New Message: Ran (¬_¬ )

You up?

You almost got excited, a smile twitching on your face until you remembered the week of radio silence and the barrage of confusing emotions you felt. You should hate him. In fact right now your fingers should be moving to delete his contact, but instead they hover over his text message on your lock-screen. Grumbling, you deleted yet another poorly formed response and called him instead. “What do you want?”

“Easy with the hostility. I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh really? Where was this energy, I dunno. A fucking week ago?!” you barked, leaving the dishes half washed as you stomped up to your room.

“Missed you.”

You blinked at your screen and nearly forgot how to breathe, too blinded with rage. “Are—are you fuckingkidding me?” you rushed out, dumfounded.

“Yeah, I know I fucked up badly,” he sighed on the end of the line and you moved to sit on your bed, face softening a bit with how tired he sounded. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Can I see you?” He ignored your question and got straight to business. You had half a mind to turn him down until he said, “Please?” 

You were so weak minded, crumbling the second you heard him beg for you. Perhaps it was an ego trip, having someone like Haitani Ran want you that badly. The next thing you knew, your back was arching as Ran’s hands trailed down your body. Pulling his face from your neck, you blindly searched for his mouth, biting his lower lip as he groaned, settling on top of you.

Your arms looped themselves around his neck, moaning in soft pants as his fingers drained downwards, dancing lightly down the line of your stomach and tugged your shorts off your body. The moment they were off, he spread open your legs and pulled away from the kiss.

You sighed happily when his lips trailed down your body, searing burning kisses on your skin. Closing your eyes helped to heighten the senses, guessing where you’d feel his lips next. Your breathing picked up pace as his hands brushed your bare thighs and it took everything in you to resist grinding against his hand as he explored every inch of your body.

The tips of his fingers slipped under your panties, drawing closer to your throbbing clit. He teased your wet slit, circling your finger around your hole, spreading your juices all over your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Your moan hitched in your throat and you bit down to silence it. Not liking that, he looked up at you. “Lemme hear you,” he dipped his finger in slowly, watching your mouth fall open in please, “c’mon, louder.”

“Please,” you moaned, begging him to continue playing with you. “I need it, please. You owe me.”

“I owe you, huh?” He gave you a mischievous grin, inching closer to your face as he pushed more slick from your thighs into your fluttering hole. He was so achingly close you could see every single lash lining his eyes, his lips just barely hovering over yours. 

His fingers sped up, twisting his fingers and using his thumb to rub at your swollen clit with precision that felt torturous. It was getting harder to control your moans, uncaring of how loud you were getting as you rocked against his hand, pussy on fire. 

“Fucking love your body,” he sounded drunk, burying his face between your breasts. His tongue flicked against your nipple before sucking down, your back arching off the sheets.

“I—I’m still mad at you,” you cursed under your breath, the indignation in your voice wavering, turning to breathless moans as he continued fucking you open with his fingers.

He left your chest, kissing up to your lips to suck the anger and frustration away and replaced it with lust. “I’m sorry baby,” he hummed, biting your lower lip. “You forgive me?”

“No,” you tried sounding serious but your face screwed up as he sped up his fingers. He licked his lips before kissing you again, trying to change your mind but you pulled away with a frown. “Y—you can’t just expect me to forgive you that easily.”

He mulled it over for a moment, glancing at your face as you breathed heavily, trying your hardest to fix your face into a convincing scowl. His fingers pulled out and you were about to protest before he shushed you. “I’m going to fuck you till you forgive me.”

Your face twisted in confusion as he started unbuckling his pants. “W—wait. You can’t just—” you paused, eyes dropping down to his cock hard in his hand.

“Can’t what?” He pulled out a condom from his pocket and you deadpanned at him. 

“Seriously? You just have those laying around?”

He smiled, laughing a little. “What? Gotta come prepared.” His hands moved to your legs, spreading you open and eyed your aching pussy, slick covering your inner thighs and bit back a groan. You watched him rip the condom open and thought how that small thing could fit over the length of his cock. It easily slipped down his shaft, stretching obscenely around the width of his shaft. 

When he’s wrapped and ready, he grabbed onto your legs, yelping as he tugged you closer and caged you with his arms. You both watched his cock press against your inner thigh, missing your pussy a couple times before sliding in, a soft sigh and groan escaping both of your lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, biting your lip as your head fell backwards against the pillow. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned wantonly, looking away from the sinful sight of his cock slowly disappearing inside you to look at your face. Your mouth was open in pleasure and he snagged the opportunity, kissing you senselessly.

“Faster.” 

He obliged, dipping his face into your neck, breaths puffing out against your skin as you cried out, nails digging into the blades of his shoulder, then onto his biceps, clutching desperately as your body began to jolt. “Jesus, Ran…!” He hit a spot that nearly had you screaming, his mouth quickly sealing against yours to silence you before your mother woke up. 

He was practically slamming into you at this point, pounding your body into the mattress and you could do nothing but whimper into his mouth and scratch deep red lines down the length of his arms. A hazy part of your mind thankful he was doing his best to silence you because the volume of your voice was far beyond your control at this point. 

“You forgive me yet,” he asked, pulling away when you tried to surge upwards for another kiss. 

You shook your head, keening when he gave another wicked slam of his hips that had you biting back your words. 

“Wrong answer.” Abruptly, he pulled out and flipped you over, rearranging your wobbly limbs until you were on all fours. He bent forward until his lips brushed your ears and the heat of his body made you inch backwards, desperate for even a crumb of his touch. He clicked his tongue and grabbed onto your hips, holding you in place as you cursed under your breath. “You forgive me yet?”

“Ran. Stop asking questions and fuck me,” you swore, testing how strong his grip was by attempting to wriggle your hips backwards. 

“Answer my question then I’ll fuck you right.”

You groaned into the pillow in protest, fighting back tears as you felt your pussy get wetter, fluttering around nothing. “But I don’t forgive you.”

“Then we’ll wait until you do.” 

Your clit throbbed again and you moaned when he nudged your legs apart, licking a stripe along your cunt. “Oh god, Ran.” His hum sent a vibration shooting through his tongue flicking at your entrance, kissing around your folds and the way his lips sealed around your clit had your stubbornness flying out the window.

“Oh.” You steadily rocked back against his face, and he eagerly buried his face into your pussy, the taste of you making his dick twitch between his legs. Your head dropped down, back arching and he held you up by the hips, keeping your ass in the air as he continued to indulge. “P—please Ran. I…I forgive you just fuck me please.”

Ran swiftly sat up, pressing one last kiss to your wet folds before lining his cock up to your entrance. “About fucking time.” His body was tense as he buried his cock back inside you with a groan. You bit down on the pillow, ignoring the wet spot you left behind as his big hand pulled you back down onto his cock, squeezing and grabbing at your ass. You barely had time to catch your breath as his hips snapped ruthlessly back and forth, shoving his cock deeper inside you with every thrust. Your legs gave out, back arching impossibly deeper as you were unable to hold yourself up. This new angle was downright sinful, had you feeling every vein of his cock rubbing against your walls, hands scrabbling uselessly at the sheets.

“Oh fuck I’m close,” he announced with a low groan, your stomach doing flips when you heard how shaky his breathing was. He pulled out, ripped the condom off and flipped you onto your back in record time, cumming on your stomach. 

While you were catching your breath, he bent down between your legs and licked along your pussy, teasing and sucking until you were coming undone, soaking the fingers he’d slid inside you.

Once your chest had stopped heaving, he pulled away, licking your taste from his lips. Your body was still shaking from the aftermath of the overstimulation, your arms eagerly wrapping around his body as he laid beside you, lifting you onto his chest and kissed your forehead.

“I don’t actually forgive you by the way,” you added after a moment of silence. “I just said that so you’d fuck me.”

Ran snorted and looked down at you. “That so?” It tickled when your fingers ran down his chest, tracing the swirls of his tattoo.

“Mhm.” You chewed the soft tissue of your cheek, waiting for his response. 

He pulled you up to reposition you on his lap as you laid your hands flat in his chest. “I know you don’t mean that.” He ran his hands down your hips and caressed them softly.

“I do,” you frowned.

He sat up slowly and you clung onto his shoulders to avoid slipping. He reached over and grabbed your phone, handing it to you. “Delete my number right now if you do.”

You looked down at your phone then back at his face. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged and nodded at the device. “Go on.”

As you contemplated whether or not this was a trap, he reattached his lips onto your neck, sucking and biting the skin, adding to the litany of marks he left previously. He was obviously doing this to cloud your judgement, and it was working. Your finger hovered over the delete contact button before you sighed, tossing the phone back onto the bed.

“I fucking knew it.” You could practically feel his devilish smile against your neck. You yanked his head from your neck, revealing the smile you pictured wide on his face.

“Shut up,” you said while frowning. He leaned forward, sucking deeply along your lips, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you melted into it.

“What’re you doing for your birthday,” he asked, pulling away for a moment. “It’s next week, right?”

“Um, not much. My friends wanted to throw me a party then Shion said he wanted to take me out afterwards.”

Ran scowled. “Do you like him?” he asked softly, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. 

“Who? Shion?” You readjusted yourself on his lap to get a better look at his face. He nodded. “No. No, I don’t. He’s my friend. I don’t see him as anything else.”

There was nothing going on between you and Shion. Being with Shion felt weird and you never thought of him that way. Besides, when you grew up with him, you saw the worst of him, from the time he shaved a circle in the middle of his head as a dare to those snot nosed crying nights when he’d throw a tantrum you couldn’t stay the night. You thought your words were enough to reassure him but Ran still looked unconvinced. Your brain fought to think of something to say but when you fell short, you resulted in pushing your chest up against him, cupping his face in your hands and leaned forward to brush your nose against his.

“I promise, Ran. In fact…you’re the only one I have eyes for right now.” There it was. The inevitable confession. As your worried eyes searched his face for a response, he stayed silent. Your body warmed as his hands hugged tighter around your body and you took that, leaning in slowly and kissed him gently, slowly, until you could feel any doubts he had leaving his body. He kissed you back, tightening his grip on your sides possessively.

“Lemme take you out,” he broke away to speak. “The day after your birthday since your special day is all booked.”

“Yeah?” You smiled and nuzzled your nose against his. “And do what?”

“Whatever you want.” His hands rubbed up and down your naked back, making you feel warm and fuzzy. “Anything.”

You rested your head against his neck and hummed in thought, sending a vibration down his body. “Hmmm, I’ll think about it.” Your arms wrapped around his neck and for a moment he fought the urge to cuddle with you in bed. Being around you was so difficult, especially when he tried to not get attached to you, despising the idea of being soft. 

He unhooked your arms from his neck and you pulled away with a confused look on your face. “Is everything okay?” He looked distressed about something and you couldn’t stop the ugly feeling in your stomach from churning. 

“I gotta go, it’s late,” he told you, sliding out of bed to scoop his clothes up. 

“I mean…you can just sleep over?” You looked at him get changed, trying to hide your frown once he finished. The pout in your voice made a wave of guilt run through his body. He tucked your body under the covers as your bottom lip jutted out in protest of him leaving. 

He kissed your forehead. “I’ll text you next week. I promise.”

Present day, 2015

Rindou slammed the car door shut, startling Dona from the backseat. “Jesus, man. What the hell is up with you?”

Rindou grumbled something under his breath and started the car, impatiently drumming his fingers against the wheel as Ran took his time inside the house fixing his suit. 

“Hello? Why’re you ignoring me?” Dona waved her hand in his face. “He’s in there right? Or do we have to drive around the whole city tryna find him?”

“Oh he’s in there alright,” Rindou rasped, rubbing his temples. 

“You gonna update me on what happened or just sulk in the front seat like a baby.”

He leaned back in his chair and then turned to look at Dona. “If I tell you, you’d get mad.”

Dona’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I be mad?” Rindou stayed quiet, and her patience only grew thinner. “Rindou I will hit you if you don’t spit it out.”

“(Name)’s back.”

~*~

“Wait Ran.” You slipped off the bed, walking to the door before he could leave his room. “What was with Rindou’s reaction before?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. He hates you.”

“I can see that,” you sighed, looking down at the floor for a couple moments before looking back at him. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing really.” Ran shrugged. “Just told him we broke up.”

“That’s all? I don’t see why he’d hate me for that.” You frowned, fighting back a pout as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not like I broke up with him.”

“You know how he gets.” Ran looked at the way you chewed your lip nervously, a habit you always did when you were overthinking. “Come here,” he said, beckoning you closer. You followed suit, slipping between his arms and he pulled you in for a hug. He rested his chin against the top of your head as your arms snaked around his waist. “Stop overthinking stuff. Rin doesn’t hate you. He hates what you did.”

“What did I do though?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to look up at him. 

“You left without an explanation.”

“There was an explanation,” you defended yourself. “You know there was.”

“Exactly. I know. He didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell him then?” you groaned, looking curiously up at him. “I broke up with you, not him. I have no issues with Rindou.”

“It wasn’t his business,” he responded, the circles he was tracing on your back with his thumbs made you feel dizzy. “And I avoided talking about you. And he thought he’d get answers from you since I wasn’t telling him, then found out you left. So he was mad.”

A slight feeling of guilt pooled low in your stomach as you lowered your head to look at the ground. Reluctantly, you let go of the hug and stepped away from him. “I think you should go to that meeting now. I’ve been hogging too much of your time.”

“Alright baby.” He shrugged his jacket back on and opened the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Okay,” you muttered, moving back onto the bed as you watched him leave the room. The second the door shut, you moved to grab your bag and pulled out your phone. You weren’t expecting to see six missed calls from Shion, each call an hour apart, and another feeling of guilt passed through you. “I’m a piece of shit,” you muttered, hitting your forehead with the edge of your phone before turning it back off.

Shion was tomorrow’s problem. You could figure out what to say to him.

~*~

Meanwhile, back in the car, Dona shrieked. “What?! Why?!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to answer that?” Rindou grumbled in response as Ran entered the car door with a hefty sigh.

“Drive already.” He lazily gestured around the wheel with his hands.

“Uh excuse me? You don’t get to boss us around when you’re thirty minutes late to the meeting.” Dona said with a frown, her nose twitching when Ran just laughed under his breath. “Not even a little bit remorseful? Mikey is pissed.”

“Name a day of the week he's not pissed,” Ran responded, looking back at Dona who laughed, mumbling that’s true. 

~*~

"Look who finally decided to show up," Sanzu sneered as Ran entered the room.

"What, you missed my presence that bad?" Ran responded as he settled himself into the couch beside Kokonoi. Sanzu rolled his eyes, making Ran's grin grow wider.

"Finally," Mikey sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is this important or what? Because if it's about my club's sales, then you could've just emailed that shit to me," Ran said in annoyance.

Mikey nodded, clearing his throat before sitting down in his chair. "It's about Naoto."

"Who the fuck is Naoto?" Takeomi said, raising an eyebrow.

"Take a fucking guess," Mikey said sharply, causing everyone in the room to fall silent, except for Ran who yawned loudly.

"What did he do?"

"He's onto us again." Mikey pointed at Mochi. "You told me you had it handled. What's the fucking hold up?"

Mochi shrugged. "I did have it handled. He was off our back for weeks, no?"

"Weeks isn't shit," Sanzu retorted. "Can't we just kill him? He's like a scab. The more you pick at it, the more it bleeds."

"Sanzu, what the hell are you talking about?" Rindou grumbled from his seat, picking at the tips of the strands of hair falling over his face.

"I'm sayinggggg," Sanzu continued, "instead of burying information to get him off our tracks, we just bury him instead."

Mikey shook his head. "No. Bad idea."

"Why?!"

"Because," Mikey responded, saying no more. The group of men stared at him expectantly. When silence descended upon the room once more, Kakucho spoke up.

"Is this about Takemichi and all of them?"

Mikey slid his eyes over to Kakucho. "What?"

"You're hesitating on hurting Naoto because he's friends with Draken and Takemichi and all of them, no? If it were any other cop, you would've just killed them already. But we've been running around in circles with Naoto for almost a year now and nothings changed. I agree with Sanzu. We should just kill him."

"I said no," Mikey responded, harsher than before, effectively shutting Kakucho up. "If you have anything to say then say it."

"Nothing else, sir."

"Good." Mikey turned back over to look at Ran. "Naoto is onto you the most." When Ran raised an eyebrow, Mikey continued. "He found out one of the clubs you own and is getting his men to go undercover at your clubs, snooping around for shady business. Just wanted to tell you to watch out."

"He's not gonna find anything." Ran responded calmly, kicking his feet onto the table with a thud, ignoring Mikey's complaint to get his feet off the table. "He's an idiot if he thinks I'd do my business in broad daylight."

"Well regardless how confident you are, just watch out. If he finds anything, it won't take long before he finds other things."

"You got it." Ran pushed his chair back and stood up, stretching. "That all?"

Mikey nodded. By the time Ran made it back home, you were fast asleep on his bed, phone unlocked in your hand. He grabbed your phone and slid his finger across the screen, pausing briefly at your message history. Your phone was practically empty. It was sad to look at. You stirred in your sleep, taking notice of his presence. "Hey," you murmured sleepily, peeking a single eye open.

"Hey sleepyhead." He paused, putting your phone back down. "Go back to sleep."

"But I want to talk to you."

"About what?" He sat on the bed, watching you closely. "Haven't you been talking enough today? You need sleep."

"I don't," you grumbled, curling up against his arm. "I need to talk to Shion," you murmured, half asleep.

"Why do you wanna talk to Shion?" He questioned, sounding more confused than anything.

"Because I blew him off," you spoke without thinking, yawning with each passing word. "He's probably angry at me. Maybe I'll make him feel better by apologising."

"You blew him off? How so?"

"I'm such an asshole," you moaned softly, slouching further into his side. He ran his hand down your back in a soothing motion. "I haven't called or texted him yet. I just...walked out without saying anything. That must've hurt him. I can't believe I did that."

"Yeah, well..." He trailed off, patting the top of your head, not knowing what else to say. "To be honest, I have no clue what you're talking about right now. It's cute you still talk in your sleep though."

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes again, mumbling something incoherent under your breath and drifted back to sleep.

TAGLIST: @escafhwiluv @lyniana @haitanifxn @rindougf03 @mvteria @hisan-na @luvhaitani @mishueb @Dreamxies @yuma404 @sleeplessreader @shinichirolover @illusorysmut @Lxvephxbic @obsessedwreiner @ililailii @insayninthamembrayn @missgab @reihimbo @l0velikethis @lollevi @danasaan @tenjikusstuff4 @midoriapologist @alkanessa @asp7n @thebrownemo @levstar777 @sanaukii @yumidepain @jesjesboo @pink-sugar-rush @ssailorvenuss @mizukikyong @suckonlimes @weebasaurus @xngelsau @wrldstarrr @lonnie19 @yanfei-kisser @wrldstarrr @hayeoyeon @christmassugarcookies @minimari415 @hxonieverse @rinshoe @taihjj @ezri261 @mkc-ana

Masterlist

#—tr </3 #series : wasted times #ran x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyorev x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran smut #tokrev #ran smut #ran angst #ran haitani smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev smut #tokyorev smut

[jennyandvastraflint]

Xena Reactions S2Ep12

A TWO PARTER

"I think you should stop punishing yourself for what happened" AHHHH This sounds like it'll be an episode that'll make me cry

"Now it's full of beauty and life, the same kind of change has happened to you" AHHHH, THE LESBIANISM

Gabrielle waits 😭

Uh oh she's having PTSD flashbacks

"Why?" ough

OH NO IS GABRIELLE GONE D:

NOOOOOO

Uh oh.

Yay they're all free again. Runnn

"Wait stop I think I heard Xena"

THE ONE KID SNEAKING AWAY

I think I've said it before but a lot of the villainised characters are pretty racist caricatures...

NOOO XENA GOT HIT

GABRIELLE. HE Hurt her...

Oh god this is really gay. "Wake up. Wake up." If I had a nickel for every-

GABRIELLE STROKING HER CHEEK

Xena my poor babygirl 😭 She's BADLY injured

Ten years earlier...

Oh she was ruthless. Kinda sexy of her tho. I love morally complex characters

A roman nobleman sdjdhs

Can this shit stop insulting the guy.

CAESAR SJFJSBD 23 KNIVES

They're so gay, poor Gabrielle is so worried about her gf

Damn they're skied. Knocking everyone out. Does Xena learn the bloodflow stopping from them

Oh definitely. They're HECKING skilled

Oh wow. She's GORGEOUS. And amazing

Oh this woman as the same symbol on her necklace as the kid from the village

Oh they still have Caesar with them

Yeah I 100% understand why you'd stab this guy 23 times.

She'll eat with him and probably tell him to teach her Gaelic

AHAHA SHE TRIED TO BREAK OUT

Xena is in awe of this woman

Xena on her knees begging? For a beautiful woman? 👀

Okay ngl this is kinda homoerotic...

UM. XENA.

"Where did you steal that dress" sjdhdbd Caesar is an ace bi guy in my head.

Is Xena trying to seduce Caesar

Aha. A kiss.

He'll use her won't he

Dolphins! Sea psychopaths!

OOOH SHE'S STILL THERE. AND SINGING. BEAUTIFUL

"It's Caesar" oh she knows he's no good.

Damn. Night shots where you can actually see something. Wish media today would do that...

I called it

"This is my destiny" oh piss off

Ew. Disgusting.

"Among my conquered" oh go see a therapist you arrogant piece of shit

ARE THEY TRYING TO CRUCIFY HER

Nah this is fucked up... What the actual fuck. All the soldiers

"Break her legs" WTFFFFF

Her friend is gonna save her

Nice winter shots

GABRIELLE!!!

SHE'S SO EXHAUSTED POOR GIRL

THERE SHE GOESSSS I love this woman.

I fucking hate Caesar...

She takes her to a healer

THE SAME HEALERRRR

"Let me go" absolutely not

M'Lina <3

ARGHHHH I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE

"You I can do something about" T_T Xena can't DIE

"You had no reason to save me but you did"

NO NONOOOOO!!!! M'LINA I LOVED YOU :(((

Oh they unleashed her...

"SHE CAN'T BE GONE"

A new Xena's born tonight 👀

THE CUT BETWEEN THE TWO

"WAKE UP" NOOOOO MY POOR GABRIELLE

Is her soul leaving :(

"When the living think of the dead they can hear their thoughts"

NOOOO SHE HEARS GABRIELLE AND ONLY GABRIELLE

"This world needs you. I need you" I'm not sobbing you are

#v watches xena #i spent a lot of this episode crying. It was fun. #xena warrior princess #xena and gabrielle #xena #gabrielle #lucy lawless #renee o'connor

[canonically47]

Share the Disventure Camp thoughts Geo. Also, now that you've seen both seasons, what are your All Stars predictions?

oliver was one of the best parts of the season and i loved him so much ohhh the skrunkle

aiden & james were my favorite characters i think! <333 i really liked their development i love gay people i screamed at their first real kiss

it took a while for me to get used to every character because of their mics and acting. some of the acting was not believable at all and was the reason i dislikes some characters for a bit (cough rosa maria cough) before eventually warming up to them. it’s clear they improved a lot and found better actors for season 1. i’m curious how the S2 actors will be in S3.

maggy was genuinely annoying and not just because of her voice. sorry :(

lake was amazing!! i loved her arc!

connor was a good guy and i liked him, but i wouldn’t have brought him back for all-stars and i definitely wouldn’t have paired him with riya. that 21 year age gap is not looking good.

I LOVED HUNTESSALLY SO MUCH OH MY GOD THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME POLY REPRESENTATION IN MEDIA IS THE BEST STOP I WILL CRY OMGMGMGMGGM why are they fighting in the S3 opening. someone save me. huntessally stay strong. STAY STRONG!!!!!

WHY IS YUL YELLOW 💀 also i hated his ass “a latina stealing why doesn’t that surprise me” NAH MF YOU CANNOT BE REDEEMED I’M SORRY MAN YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN 💀

anyone wanna talk about how weird some challenges were? no? like making people kiss other people just for a challenge? i know it’s fiction but? what if someone is uncomfortable with it? yk? my aro ass couldn’t watch most of those scenes like ik it was to make some ships kiss and probably appeal to the fans but nah. you lost me brah. and outing aiden (while not specifically saying his name but yk) like. wow. this is. not fun! weird episodes

karol fuck you

riya, thin ice, i like you for your assholery but leaving aiden hanging left ME hanging as a fan of both. sadge

ally should’ve been a scene kid that’s all i came here to say

fuck you yul hope ur the first boot of S3

why was nina there. /vvvneg

now for predictions/wishes:

YUL FIRST BOOT WOOHOO 💯💯💯 /hj

if i don’t get gabellie & tessally alliance i will actually cry myself to sleep for those entire ten months the show will be airing i mean it guys i’m so fucking serious /j

alec and fiore need to make up or i will actually go bonkers and die

yul first boot

trevek do gay shit & krystal breaks them apart every time because they’re so cringe every time they flirt or something not in the high school couple way but just sooo fucking bad at flirting that it is physically damaging to everyone around them

nina dies in a fire YAY!!! WOOHOO!!! PARTY!!! (seriously she was the most annoying gimmick of the season hope she just disappears and its not brought up ever)

maybe. if connor is there. and he gives advice. he can give alec and fiore advice. right. right guys. I MISS MY FATHER-DAUGHTER DUO OKAY WAAAAAAA

jake will be a fucking idiot and hate aiden for NO reason because he is a fucking idiot. love him tho but i was hoping he wouldn’t be as insecure in s3 like girl get a therapist cmon

if i don’t get james-tom friendship.......

miriam early boot 😞 sorry queen 😞 i got this feeling 😞 inside my bones 😞

ashley early boot (pleasepleaseplease WHO ASKED FOR HER TO BE HERE i wanted nick or kai back so bad omfg)

this is more based on a fanart i saw but fiore should totally terrorize aiden and aiden just hates her ass

i want the teams to form then switch a bit so that there’s both s1 and s2 contestants on both teams bc wdym the teams are s1 and s2. thats the worst decision yet and the season hasnt even started

#disventure camp #disventure camp season 1 #disventure camp season 2 #campamento desventura #disventure camp all stars #odd nation cartoons

[casicroaks]

Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 2

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 // CHAPTER 13 // CHAPTER 14 // CHAPTER 15 // CHAPTER 16 ]

NEW JERSEY, 1984

“Honey, I’m home!” I said in a sing-song voice as I stepped into my apartment. Not that anyone would answer. I lived alone. I just liked saying that out loud.

I hung my coat and threw my heels off to the side, groaning from having to walk all the way from my workplace to my home. It wasn’t that far, but my last good pair of shoes had fallen to pieces a week ago, and I was still softening the new replacements. I knew I needed to go shopping one of these days. I had only three pairs of shoes: the new red heels, some indoor slippers, and the old leather boots which I was still figuring out a way to wear with my everyday outfits. I really had no excuse not to go get myself some new shoes… Especially since, once a week, I passed by the big shopping malls on my way back home, when it was all lit up with its neon lights and looking real pretty. I admired the clothes, the shoes, the jewelry in their glass cases, trying my best to hype myself up to at least consider buying myself something, like a little present from me to me… But there was nothing I really wanted. Despite working at a beauty parlor, I didn’t care much about looking beautiful anymore. I had the same dresses as before, and I was content with them. Not happy, really. I was never truly happy with the way I looked. Just content. And spending that money I was saving (and that I always ended up spending on groceries and rent) on dresses I didn’t have any interest in just seemed like a stupid idea. Still, I went to the mall every week, like a parishioner returning to the church. It was just something to do.

The little mirror I had nailed to the wall beside the front door gave me back a blur, and I silently chided myself for not stopping by to fluff my hair and check on my makeup. Just like the shoes, even if I had gotten my hair styled quite some months ago (as soon as I had my last break-up, actually) there was still a slight discomfort to seeing it. Like I didn’t quite recognize myself yet, and I didn’t know when I would. I had tried a new hair dye, for once: I had already been blond, brunette… Anything but going back to my original black color. So, red it was. Bright red, like my mother’s.

I read once that the reason women use red lipstick instead of any other color was to attract attention to the lips, since red’s the most eye-catching color in the spectrum. Going into my little kitchen I wondered, was I desperate for attention? Yeah, probably. Was I horny as hell, already tired of my own hand and too broke for a battery-operated alternative? That too. If there’s something I learnt from working at a beauty salon is that a change of image does wonders for a woman. Even something like dyeing your hair can help you feel like a whole different person. And for the first few days, it felt like that. I tried being happier, smiling more, adding a little skip to my step, doing all the bullshit self-help articles, radio therapists and motivational speakers on TV said one should do to be happy. Tough luck. I kept wanting to leave everything, my job, my apartment, change my name and start over somewhere else again (as if that would really change anything), or just skip town and scream in some field or abandoned grounds until my lungs gave up. Like that had worked so well last time. I was so goddamn pissed at everything, and there was a point in which I couldn’t just chalk it up to my breakup. The money always ran out, even when my pay wasn’t that bad, even as I tried to eat less, watch less TV, stop going to the movies, cut down on everything but the most basic expenses. And then, then I felt like I was starving, and it was a constant pull and push between spending my week’s earnings on convenience store snacks or loading it all inside my mattress, saving up for… Something.

Really, I simply had nothing to look forward to.

Maybe I should get a cat, I thought, opening the fridge and having a gulp of milk straight from the carton, before realizing it tasted sour and spitting it out. Well, maybe a dog, then… But I remembered what Arlene had told me not too long ago. A dog, a cat, a bird –they can and will all just up and leave when they get the chance. So much for loyalty. And cages were not cheap.

I remembered I still had some discount tequila left. I had been smart then, and bought two bottles. I was about to pour myself a glass, ready to change into my nightdress and spend the night watching TV, maybe order some Chinese food, and fall asleep in the couch, and do the same the next day, though most likely without the tequila. Or I could go straight to bed (I had heard that sleeping early did wonders for one’s skin) but I wasn’t tired, just exhausted… What I wanted most was to turn off my brain. Turn off my brain, and have a good screwing. By lack of a warm body to share the place, though, the best option I had was to lock myself up in my drab apartment, find the energy to try and finger myself, and watch TV. What else was I gonna do that night, and the weekend after that, after all? Listen to my mother’s voicemails? Eat three bowls of cereal for dinner again? Try to hook up with some rando who might just keep me occupied for a couple hours?

Yeah, that was exactly what I did.

I sighed, leaving the bottle on the cabinet, and went back to put on my coat and my shoes.

“Another night, another day goes by… I never stop myself to wonder why…” I hummed to myself, giving my lipstick one last touch up in front of the bathroom mirror. “You help me to forget to play my role…”

One could say I was looking for love in all the wrong places. And that was probably right. I knew I was looking for some sort of commitment, but… Let’s just say that searching for Prince Charming in a pig pen just isn’t the best way to go about it. I was ashamed of it, I’m not gonna lie. I had hoped I would never have to get into that sort of situations. After all, I was never interested in short-term-relationships, and I liked to think that I was better than casual sex… Not that any of the people I met up with were particularly, interestingly nasty anyways. I knew what I was getting myself into, what sorts of places I became a regular of. And, admittedly, I met some handsome men, a few pretty girls. Don’t get it twisted, though; always used protection, always checked they didn’t have the shadow of a wedding band. I was killing time, but at least I was gonna be careful about it. Just because I dyed my hair red and was feeling blue didn’t mean I became someone else completely. It just meant now I was a redhead, and feeling blue.

“I, I live among the creatures of the night…  I haven’t got the will to try and fight…” I sang quietly, biting down on my cigarette’s filter to keep it from being blown away by the wind on the street.

It was a cold October night, and I felt the upcoming winter on my bare legs. The shops were already decked out in their Halloween décor, to my delight. I had made paper garlands and a few other decorations to make the beauty parlor extra spooky for the festivities, but Shelley had told me that it wasn’t necessary… That people didn’t really care about all that when they went to have their nails done. What a bunch of bull. Everyone loved Halloween! And those who didn’t, they were just buzzkills. I hang the decorations anyway. But not even Halloween managed to lift my spirits.

Not too far from the dance floor of the club, just enough for me to people-watch comfortably, I nursed something called a Blood and Sand instead of my usual margarita, having decided to treat myself for once. All things considered, I was simply expecting a mediocre screwing, to be kicked out of some guy or gal’s house which I would never set foot in again, and to head back to my apartment just in time to eat Chinese and cry while watching All That Heaven Allows on the late-night programming.

I had no idea that this was the night that would change my life.

“Hey, Red –what’s new?”

I was approached by not one guy, but by a guy and his girl.

“… Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked the man who had made the question.

Of course, though, I knew what they had in mind. The blonde was kinda cute, with her big eyes and smug grin like a Barbie doll, in an easy-to-forget eye candy, background-dancer-in-a-music-video kind of way. But the guy, with the triple whammy of rather long hair, black suit and tie, and having somehow both childish and sharp features, had a much more interesting sort of odd charisma to him. He was a weirdo, no doubt about it. But I liked his style. I never told him this, but he reminded me a little bit of Heath. Maybe he just happened to be a bit high when we met, like Heath used to be constantly. Maybe it was the hungry eyes, or something in the smile… I didn’t know why, but even as I kept my sight on the girl, I was always aware of his presence, even as he walked behind us on the way to the hotel.

The blonde (I think her name was Leah, or something?) was clearly a newbie. It seemed like she had learnt anything about fucking a girl through some porn movie or something. She kissed me, but not much else; she moaned and sighed and giggled as if she was having a ball, writhing around me, rubbing herself against me. I had barely even touched her. All tease, no action. I knew her type all too well from maybe two or three bi-curious girls I had met through the same methods. Too overexcited, too self-conscious, too eager to please… Please herself, that is, and in this case, please the guy watching. She turned to glance at him every few seconds, as if she needed constant approval to continue. Didn’t seem to be thinking about me at all. It was easy to assume how that would translate when we actually did something. So much for the red hair, I thought, but I tried to have fun, regardless, as I pushed her down and climbed on top of her, pulling that tacky necklace off of her, showing her how it was done. I was a bit disappointed the guy had decided he was just gonna watch, but to each his own, I thought. Maybe he’ll come in later, when we’re already turned on, I guessed.

So… Well, if I was surprised by being approached at the bar by the two of them, I was straight-up baffled when the guy grabbed my shoulder and pulled me off the bed and onto my knees.

“Hey—!”

For a second I thought this meant we would be switching, which honestly was a relief, since despite my best efforts I was getting a bit tired of her. But then he put his hand on my nape and stood over me, and I saw what he had in his right hand. The least subtle knife I’d seen. Where and how had he managed to smuggle it in? I smiled. So that was the plan, I realized. I glanced at the blonde, letting it all sink in. Had I stepped into some kinky Bonnie and Clyde situation? Were they into some fetish stuff we hadn’t discussed beforehand? But then I looked back at the guy, into his cold blue eyes, and I finally understood this was no roleplay. He wanted to kill me, stab me until I dyed the carpet deep red with my blood. So that was what turned him on. No wonder he had seemed as bored as I was feeling so far.

And I was feeling rotten enough to actually be thrilled by this.

“Do it,” I told him, as soon as he held me by the back of my neck, pressing my throat with his thumb, before I could even think it over. And when I did, I just smiled wider. I really wanted it. After all, if he killed me… Well, at least that would spare me having to wash the dishes that night. And if my life was really going to be what it had been for the last year or so, then I didn’t care much if that was how it ended. And, if he didn’t kill me… Then –what a chicken, right? Who goes ahead and pops out a big-ass knife, ready to charge, with another woman egging him on, only to not do it? What can I say –I was curious. Besides, it would be almost hilarious; what would we even do then, if he didn’t kill me now? Would he apologize for the inconvenience and leave? Would we just go home, like when bad weather cuts a ball game short?

Did this guy really have that killer instinct? Would he actually go through with it?

And he still doubted. He kept looking at me all confused. I wondered if he had done this before, and whether he thought I was special, in some way.

“Do it to me, now,” I insisted, keeping the grin firmly drawn on my face. But I kept staring back at him, watching how he faltered. Seemed like there were a hundred thoughts rushing through his head, his hand unsteady, his eyes shifting, and yet they always went back to mine. It was strangely intimate, that balance we had going, him holding me down on my knees and threatening me, but with me having a kind of control over the situation. I wasn’t screaming nor whimpering, I wasn’t intimidated at all, and that clearly threw him off his rhythm; and it was all truly much more exciting than whatever whatshername had been trying to pull in the bed.

And, because she was being ignored and she just needed to hog the spotlight, Blonde started whining. We both glanced at her, having forgotten she was there at all. The man looked back at me for a moment. She was getting in my nerves, and it was likely she was getting in his, too. If he wasn’t gonna kill me, then I might just ask him to borrow his knife and get that woman to shut up—

But then, as if he had just read my mind, he turned towards Blonde –pushed her against the floor –and stabbed her once, twice, thrice, nice and deep, right between the ribs, with the quick, confident pull and push of a professional. Oh, he had killed before. He was not a newbie at all.

And without missing a beat, he turned to me, actually smiling. “Hey, Red, wanna play?”

This had been a test all along, I thought, barely containing my giddiness. He offered me the knife. He really trusted me with it, to go on with it… Even though Blonde was gasping her last breaths already. But still, even if it was just scraps, it was hard to say no.

I let out a giggle when I got my hands on it. With both hands, like I used to. I got closer, still on my knees, and looked down at her body spread beside us. Blonde sure didn’t look as smug anymore… And then I stabbed her. Push in, pull back, with that nice wet sound, with that warmness that came with the splattered blood. My hands remained away from her, grasping the handle, but it was as if the knife had become an extension of myself –yes, I could feel her guts, sinking a bit deeper with each stab, pushing harder and carving a space inside her for me to dig through, making sure to go as far as possible, to the other side of her torso, to let the blood flow freely out of her, for it to splash all over me…

Boy, had I missed it. And even as I focused entirely on my task, becoming more and more excited, I noticed him (Charles, Blonde had called him) out of the corner of my eye, moving along with me to the thrust of the knife as I stabbed her over and over and over –and the way he did so, back and forward, tensing when we went back, letting go when I pushed on, as if guiding me from the side…

I closed my eyes and let out a euphoric laugh in sheer exhilaration, covered in Blonde’s blood. What a pleasure it was. The coldness of the night was gone, I felt my skin burning, my heart pounding, and I had forgotten all about Chinese and TV night. My lust for life had returned. God –I felt alive.

“Wow… It’s never happened like that before,” I admitted with a giggle, looking back at the guy. It wasn’t my first time killing, of course, but this was certainly different. I never had someone beside me, warming it up for me, for starters. Never had a partner in it. Maybe I never saw it as a bonding activity before. It always had been just a slipup, an accidental thing, sometimes a way to blow off some steam, perhaps even a bit of an embarrassing little secret. And there I was, thinking I had left it all behind me a year ago…

But now there was Charles, kindly inviting me along. How could I possibly refuse?

I put a hand on my chest and I frowned when I realized just how different I sounded. “Is that me?” The pure glee of it had probably caused me to slip. Shit… I thought I had managed my voice so far. Found that perfect balance between cute and sultry and kept it up for years. Now, my original voice, my annoying little voice, was back. Shit, shit, shit. Just when I had found a guy I could be truly myself with…

“Oh, it’s definitely you,” he said with a grin and a snicker, coming closer, embracing me. I smiled again, biting my lip, tasting the fresh blood. He picked me up and took me to the bed, and finally, finally I felt that great special rush of adrenaline, that kick I had been looking for for years, there, kissing him, tasting the blood on his own lips. I pushed his hair back, slick now, wanting to see his face. Charles. His cheeky grin, the devious twinkle in his eyes, his boyish charm… I could see myself getting used to it. I could see myself growing to love that face of his.

“Boy, you really know how to show a girl a good time,” I chuckled, and he joined me with his own. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but I wanted us to be properly introduced to one another, to get that out of the way. “I’m Tiffany.”

“I’m Charles,” he replied, now in a different voice, a low snarl that sounded almost menacing. But I wasn’t afraid of him. Why, after that whole display, he couldn’t scare me even if he tried.

“Know what, Charles—” I said, taking a moment to catch my breath. “You should be Chucky.” It went without saying that it would be on account of how much he liked to laugh. And besides, Charles was far too formal. And now that we had shown each other the wickedest parts of ourselves, I felt it was only natural to become more familiar with the other.

“You know what, Tiff…?” Chucky said, raising his eyebrows, giving the body on the floor a quick glance. “… You should be blonde.”

Well, good news for him, then, I thought with a smile. Bleaching black hair was a lot easier than going full red. However, as I gripped his blood-stained shirt and pulled him back in for the kiss he’d been wanting, feeling just how eager he was to keep going, he would be stuck with a redhead for the time being.

You know that one song that was all the rage that October, Like A Virgin? It was like that. Shiny and new, indeed. Best fuck I had in a very long time, truth be told, if not ever. Not that I was gonna tell him that, get his ego that blown. I would have never guessed the weirdo with the hair and the suit had it in him… But Chucky was always full of surprises.

I’m not sure how long passed then. During the eventual cigarette break, bathroom pause, and one moment in which we raided the minibar, I noticed that there was light out the window, but when I checked later, it was pitch dark. Neither one of us checked on the time at any point. I guess neither of us had anywhere better to be than there. And it suited me just right.

Apart from the pit stops, though, we truly managed to keep ourselves entertained for quite a while. What broke the spell was, because it couldn’t have been any other way, Blonde’s natural decomposition. We had switched again and now he was on top of me. I was taking him in and kissing him back, sinking my nails in his back, not a care in the world –when there was the weirdest squeaking noise, loud enough to make both of us stop right then and there. Chucky and I exchanged a quick awkward glance, but decided to simply ignore it. We went right back to what we were doing –and there was the sound again, not a squeak anymore, longer than before. He moved back and let out a deep frustrated sigh.

“Hey… I promise I won’t judge you or anything,” I said, drumming my fingers on his thighs, looking up at him as he kneeled on the bed. “… But did you just rip one?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed. “Thought that was you—”

“It wasn’t me—!”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “Right, won’t judge you or anything…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I insisted, leaning on my forearms to prop myself up. “Y’know, it’s… It’s totally natural and stuff, I guess… But it wasn’t me—!”

There was the noise again, and now that we were both aware of it, we noticed the direction it was coming from. Blonde had gotten bloated and her skin was turning waxy. And, in the silence we kept for the next few seconds, we got another toot, clearly coming from her body.

The two of us burst out laughing. I had heard of bodies becoming gassy after death from some documentary on TV, but I really wasn’t expecting it to sound exactly what gassy sounded like. And apparently it was the music hour, because she kept passing wind for a while –to both our disgust and amusement.

As funny as it was, we did have stinky worm food in our hands. Once we finally calmed down, he suggested stuffing it into the closet and forgetting about it. The issue kept turning in my mind though. And what a pity it would be if we were forbidden to return to such a nice hotel some other time, if some other time could become a possibility… So, I proposed to use his handy knife to chop it up, put it into a laundry bag and throw it into the garbage. That way, at least, there wouldn’t be a dead body to link us to it. Even if it would still be hard to explain the amount of blood.

We dragged Blonde into the bathroom and took turns to hack her up. Once that was done (and it took quite a while, since we also had to break a few bones) Chucky stuffed the slabs in the laundry bag while I hosed the bathtub to get it as spotless as I could. I also took a moment to rinse Blonde’s nice purple corset. I could easily mend the stabbing holes, she was more or less my size (maybe a bit smaller), and it would’ve been a shame to throw it away along with the meat. Only then, with Blonde’s parts finally packed up and ready to go, we realized that it would seem a tad suspicious to leave through the front door while missing one person, and now carrying a big stinking bag.

“What d’you suggest, then?” Chucky asked me. I looked at him, and then at the window behind the messy, blood-dotted bed, and smiled.

I opened the window, the two of us picked up the bag and, with some effort, raised it and tossed her out into the street where it fell on the pavement with a crunch! Luckily it was either really late or really early, and there was nobody on the street to notice our suspicious behavior.

“Did it rip?” he asked, peeking out the window, lighting a new cigarette.

Hard to say with the little light. Since no blood pooled around it, though, we concluded the first half of the operation was a success. Chucky gave me an impressed little glance as he put on his coat. I put on mine, smiling wide in my satisfaction, dangling my heels in one hand.

The second half of the operation was to run like hell out the emergency exit. We giggled like schoolkids as we rushed down the stairs. He was a bit faster than me, since I was practically bouncing barefoot on the concrete steps. I gave him a couple light kicks to tease him, slipping my hands on the handrails. We weren’t rolling around naked anymore, but I was still dizzy with excitement, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Once we got to the backdoor, which was partly locked (that surely had to be a safety hazard), it was Chucky’s moment to impress me. He handed me his cigarette for safekeeping, and with a sniff and a quick rub of his nose, walking a few steps backwards, he got the momentum he needed –hopped for a bit where he stood, as a sort of warmup –and ran towards the door –and gave it one hard kick –managing to get it wide open. He grinned proudly, turning back to see my reaction, and I laughed and clapped. We hurried back to the street, to the bag that was waiting for us, circled by curious stray dogs, which fortunately hadn’t managed to open it and which Chucky swiftly shooed away. He waited politely for me to put my heels back on.

“I’ve never been around a dead body long enough to see it rotting,” I admitted as we both dragged the heavy bag towards the closest dumpster.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he said with a little chuckle. “And… Well, it was pretty warm in that hotel room.”

I snickered, standing on the tip of my toes, holding the lid of the dumpster as high as I could. Chucky picked up the bag with a grunt, swung it and tossed it into the dumpster, where it landed with a thump!, and I dropped the lid, and the operation was then done. We had both now created and disposed of a dead body. Quite an achievement.

With a long, satisfied sigh, Chucky leaned back against the wall of the alley. He took a drag of his cigarette and then offered it to me. By the faint yellow light of the lamppost beside us I noticed the pinkish lipstick stains I had left on it. I gazed at him as he blew the smoke. It could just have been some leftover smudges of blood, but judging by the shade it seemed to be that he actually had my lipstick all smeared on his mouth. Something about that sent a chill down my back.

I smiled at him, giving his cigarette a puff. He smiled back.

“D’you have the time, Chucky?” I asked him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“No, I lost my wristwatch a couple weeks ago,” he said, sinking his hands in his pockets. “Why’d you ask?”

“Wanted to know if it’s Monday already.”

He snorted. “Busy day, Mondays?”

I smiled and looked down at my worn shoes. I should have brought the boots instead, even if they didn’t match my skirt and jacket. “… Amazing, isn’t it?” If they had any traces of blood, I couldn’t tell. “All you can do in just one night.”

Chucky sighed and nodded. He handed me the cigarette again.  “Yeah, well, the night’s still young, Tiff.”

We both had to take a moment to catch our breaths. We had run a few floors, dragged a whole person in a bag, been fucking for an unspecified amount of time. Exhaustion was finally kicking in. We shared a cold but comfortable silence, and I closed my eyes, feeling the roughness of the brick against my back, the light sting of the bruises on my legs, the quick but steady beating of my heart, and listening to his breathing, and, far away, the sounds of police sirens and ambulances, of cars and trucks speeding by, completely oblivious to us and to all we had done. There really were no people on the streets, only the eventual flashing lights of a passing car. Somehow that made it feel like Chucky and I were the only two people in the world.

I returned him his cigarette. He took one last puff and flicked it into the curb. I wrapped myself a bit tighter in my coat, rubbing my cheek against its fluffy collar, shivering at a cold rush of wind, my knees trembling just a bit. Chucky looked out into the streets, stretching his neck, checking if someone would come near. Then he sighed, turned back to me and looked me in the eye. A moment passed. It seemed it was time for us to say our goodbyes. And neither one of us wanted to be the one to start.

“… I had fun,” I finally said, trying to hide my… My what? My apprehension? My sadness? My curiosity? I’m not sure. I just had this sinking feeling at the idea of never seeing him again.

“Yeah… Me too,” he admitted gingerly. If we hadn’t spent what seemed to be at least one whole day together I would have thought Chucky might have been lying. “It’s… It was an interesting surprise, I guess.”

I nodded, wringing my hands. “Same here.”

He nodded, rocking on the balls of his feet, glancing awkwardly at the sides, as if that were a particularly fascinating alleyway. “So… Well…”

I didn’t care if it made things weird, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say goodbye. I didn’t want to. And I had the feeling he didn’t want to, either.

His face lit up out of a sudden. He rummaged in his pockets and fished out an old receipt and a shaved-down pencil. “Hey, uh, I don’t know if… I mean, maybe…” He chewed on his lip, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “… I don’t know, we might… Get together again, one of these days, or something…”

“Oh—”

“You got a phone?”

I snickered. “Don’t most people?”

He laughed, dropping his shoulders, loosening up a bit. “Shit, you… You know what I mean.”

I chuckled, taking the little flimsy piece of paper, holding it against the dumpster’s lid, and scribbled my phone number in the biggest, clearest numbers I could write. “Here you go, mister.”

Chucky gave it a glance, still grinning, and stuffed it back into his pocket. If there was a good moment to declare that encounter over, it was then. I waited for him to take it. There was already a promise of a future meeting. I gazed at his face, examining it, putting all my efforts into remembering every part of it. He looked back at me, still smiling. He reached out towards my face –and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

That was it. I think that was when I really fell for him. My hair was caked with dry blood, my makeup was a mess, I was exhausted from the effort of running down stairs and pulling a bag with a dead body inside, and the late-night cold had me trembling like a shitting Chihuahua. But he looked at me, and I felt beautiful. I knew that, by the way he looked at me, he thought I was beautiful.

“Um… My place’s just a couple blocks away, you know,” I managed to blurt out.

Chucky’s eyebrows shot right up.

“I mean, if you’d like to wash up,” I said with a shrug. “We’re both looking like butchers, here.”

There was a pause. He seemed to be considering it. Maybe he was wondering if this could be his chance to try and kill me again, in a more intimate setting, somewhere where he might be able to pass it up as a gruesome suicide. Which I wouldn’t oppose, since, after all, anything would be better than to be unceremoniously killed in a random mucky alley. Maybe, though, he was just wondering if it was worth it.

“… Sure,” Chucky finally agreed. I grinned, noticing the smallest hint of a smile in his lips.

And with that, only stopping by the drugstore to pick up a few more condoms for good measure, I showed him the way to my apartment.

We didn’t really wash up, unsurprisingly. Once in the elevator he pulled me to him and kissed me again, and I held on to his shoulder and buried my fingers in his hair, and both of us already knew where this would end. I don’t know how we made it to my bed, but we did, and at least we didn’t have to share the room with a rotting farting corpse anymore.

At some point we did fall asleep, though. I saw Chucky’s eyes closing as he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. I had bitten him at some point (well, more than once) but that bite was probably most likely because I had been nodding while dozing off in the middle of a kiss. He let out a sigh, and there was the little glow of the cigarette butt he left on the ashtray on my bed next to his leg. As the smoke went up towards the ceiling, I could hear him breathing softly. It was strange, to think of him as anything near the word soft. I huddled against him, covering him with one arm, smiling to myself. I felt a warm hand setting on my shoulder. It was so comforting… Then, I finally fell asleep.

He woke up before I did. I yawned and dragged myself out of bed, my eyelids still half-shut by the smudged mascara, when I saw Chucky standing in his briefs and tee, holding his blood-stained shirt in one fist and a cigarette in the other hand, with his back to the bedroom. I walked up to him, just a little surprised at this.

“Trying to sneak out?” I asked him with a sleepy giggle, taking the cigarette from his fingers.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. I looked towards where he was looking, the chimney mantle, where I had set my doll collection. It was the best place to display them –as if I actually had anyone to show them to. It was small, but I was proud of it. All of them from garage sales, thrift shops, one or two found just lying around in the curb or in a dumpster, waiting for someone to pick them and fix them up. I had only gotten to gluing one of them back together, and the cracks were still pretty obvious: they would be, until I got some new paint to cover it…

I leaned my head on his shoulder. He had his eyes wide open, wide awake, his brow furrowed, staring at my dolls. He seemed to be trying to understand something. For the briefest moment I was nervous Chucky thought I was a psycho or something.

“You like them?” I asked quietly, slipping his cigarette back into his hand.

Chucky remained silent for a moment longer, looking at them carefully, and took a drag, taking his time to answer. I couldn’t read his face. I swear he knew I was anxious about his answer.

“… If that’s your thing, Tiff,” he finally shrugged it off.

I let out a little happy squeak and hugged him tight, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

“Well, we all need a hobby, right?” I said with a wink.

He chuckled, and gave me a little kiss on the temple. “Ain’t that the truth…”

Sunlight was already streaming through the window. I went back into the bedroom and put on my nightdress and slippers. There was the buzzing of the radio, and the voice of a newscaster announcing the day’s weather forecast. He already made himself right at home, I thought.

“You got yourself quite a nice little place here,” Chucky commented when I came back to the kitchen.

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to paint the walls purple,” I said, pushing my hair back. “But my landlord won’t allow it. And I can’t afford to piss him off with rent being what it is…”

“Purple… I can see it,” he said approvingly, glancing around him.

“Where’s your place?” I asked him, letting the hot water run over the dirty dishes on the sink, hoping he didn’t mind the mess too much. “D’you live far?”

“Ridgefield Avenue, other side of the river. By the S46 Bridge.”

“Quiet part of town,” I said with a smile. “I assume there’s not a wide offer of clubs by those parts.”

“You’d be assuming right,” he snickered, fidgeting with one of the buttons of his shirt, scraping the dry blood with his nail. “It’s just where I’m staying for the time being, though. I want to move closer to where the action is, leave the sidelines.”

I nodded and let out a sigh, taking in the sight of my little apartment. It wasn’t that messy, I told myself. I had a couple bags and boxes lying around from when I moved back in after my last breakup, but mostly everything was in its proper place, and it was pretty clean, all things considered. The only issue was the kitchen, the dirty dishes that had piled up, all greasy and grimy and nasty. Chucky didn’t seem to notice; or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

“… What time’s it?”

We both turned to the clock. Two in the afternoon.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” he groaned, hanging his head backwards on the edge of the chair’s back.

As if agreeing with him, my stomach let out a low grumble. “We got some… Some cereal…” I said before taking the box out of the shelf and realizing there was just enough for a spoonful. “We had some, at least.”

He got off the chair and picked up the rest of his clothing. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, shooting me a sideways glance while I opened the fridge, bent over and checked if there was something for us to eat.

“There’s nothing in the fridge save for expired milk, one moldy tomato and some stale bread…” I sighed.

I really wasn’t expecting any visits, after all. Even less a visit that would be staying for a meal. Best I could do was some coffee, but that wouldn’t cut it on an empty stomach.

“Do you, uh, happen to have any money on you?” I asked him, closing the fridge and looking at him over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, zipping up his pants. “What d’you have in mind?”

I opened my eyes wide. Was he inviting me out? “… There’s a nice burger place ‘round the corner,” I suggested.

Before leaving the apartment and venturing out into the streets, though, we did have to wash up. I had forgotten about it already, but the two of us were covered in bloodstains, from the face to the chest to the arms and even some handprints on our legs. I wet a rag on the sink of the bathroom, sat on the toilet and washed myself off. Chucky leaned over the bathtub and rinsed his arms, face and neck, avoiding the shower just barely to keep his cigarette lit between his teeth. His stained shirt was a whole issue, which we ended up solving by me lending him an old Black Sabbath tee I had from my New York days that I wore to bed when my nightdress was in the laundry bag.

“I’ll take it with me next time I go to the laundromat,” I told him, examining the stains. They were pretty dark already. The cotton had probably already absorbed it fully. “And if that doesn’t take it out… Baking soda has never let me down before, at least where period blood is concerned.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve walked ‘round the street in broad daylight, red from head to toe, without anyone giving a shit,” he said, checking the tee’s fit, while I brushed the dry blood flakes off my hair. “It’s amazing what people don’t see.”

And so, finally looking like model citizens, we went out and had burgers and milkshakes. We were both pretty damn famished, it had to be said. We barely talked while we ate. Soon enough there was nothing but some dropped onions on our trays and ketchup leftovers on our fingers to lick off.

“I didn’t know about this place,” he said casually as he wiped his mouth. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, isn’t it?”

I smiled and nodded, tapping my nail against the half-empty cup. I watched him while he sucked on the straw of his strawberry shake, wondering what would happen now. Now that we both had cooled off for the time being, I was half expecting Chucky would decide that I was a loose end, and would try to find a good moment to tie that up. So far, though, everything seemed normal. Too normal. It was like an average date with just some guy. Seeing him no longer colored by the red glow of the club, nor by the bright yellow light of the hotel room, no more blood splattered across his face, and now enjoying a burger like your average Joe, wearing my old tee, it was almost as if everything that had happened had just been a weird wonderful dream.

Though, I have to admit, I was still kind of thrilled at the fact that I had met someone who shared my specific interests.

“Hey, uh… Hope you don’t mind me asking,” I said after swallowing my last bite. “… What’s your body count?”

“Boy, I lost track years ago,” he laughed as he leaned back. “Why, do you still have yours?”

“Um… Let me think,” I said, and got to counting with my fingers. “… Hm, Heath, Jordan, Maxine, Mimi, Kenny, Tony, Carole, Roy, Leanne, Gavin, Ronnie, Elliot… Mark… Uh, I think this one’s name was Zach… I must be missing someone, but I think those are the ones I remember the most… So, say around fourteen, fifteen. What do you think of that?”

Chucky hummed, resting his head on his hand. He thought about it for a minute. “… I mean, you know all their names, for one. So you clearly keep it personal.”

“Well, yes,” I frowned. “I’m not interested in total strangers—”

“But our first shared one was with a stranger, though,” he noted.

I blinked, a bit surprised by him specifying first. “Yeah, well—”

“Was that your first time with just, you know, a random person?” he asked, leaning forward, barely holding back a grin.

“I’m not telling you…!”

He let out a short but loud laugh. “So it was!”

I huffed. “So what if it was?”

“You’re, like, in your mid-twenties, right? So fourteen, fifteen’s not that bad,” Chucky shrugged. Now I was really curious to know his death count. I had the feeling he did remember it, but had decided that leaving that to the imagination was more impressive. “But you could do better. If you opened yourself to other options…”

I scoffed. I was thrilled, I was into him, yes –but I wasn’t that much into being talked down to. “So you say I should just go around and fuck up the first fella I come across?”

Chucky smiled even wider. “You did. I just gave you the chance. And hey, I’m no hypocrite, I won’t fault you for that. I’m just saying…” He leaned back on his chair, picking his cup and offering a toast. “It’s not exactly impressive, but you got promise, Tiff. Fifteen’s nothing to sneeze at.”

He probably knew I wasn’t really that offended, and soon enough I smiled back at him. Nobody had complimented me on my death count so far. We clinked cups, and I finally realized that Chucky wasn’t gonna kill me. There was something he saw in me that he liked. Or maybe he just wanted a side piece. I’m not a mind reader, I couldn’t know for sure. I just knew that I had fun with him –more fun than what I had had with anyone else –and that I liked the idea of staying around to see what happened next.

“I’d love to… You know, do something like this again,” I said, twirling my hair. “If you’re up to it.”

He tilted his head. “Go out for burgers?”

“No, silly,” I chuckled. “To… Meet again. Do something…” I just couldn’t blurt it out. I giggled, despite myself, becoming a bit flustered. “You got my number, so… If you ever, say, wanted to… To do something…”

“Are you talking about—?”

“Both,” I interrupted him, just as a mother and her child passed us by. “Both… Both would be great.”

Chucky looked at me, slowly realizing what I meant, and nodded. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, remembering when he did that, and fidgeted with my earring. We were no longer alone with each other. We were surrounded by other patrons at the burger place, by families with their kids, by people chatting on the street… But none of it erased what had happened when we were together.

I noticed that Chucky still had a little cut in his lower lip, where I had bitten him.

I smiled. Yes –it had all been real.

“What, do I have something on my face?” he asked me, scratching his cheek.

“No, it’s nothing,” I said, looking down, still smiling. “I’m just… I’m just happy I met you.”

We had already paid. It was about to be three o’clock. It felt like we had been together for a whole week. And still, we didn’t know how to say goodbye.

“Well…” he said, shifting uneasy in his chair. “… What’s next?”

“I –I got a job,” I blurted, immediately regretting it. “And, uh… I guess that—”

“Right.”

“So… Besides, you surely got your own stuff, your own life to go back to—”

“Yeah,” Chucky nodded quickly. “I’m a very busy man.”

I just barely stifled a laugh. “I bet you are.”

He shot me a glare, but then he smiled, too.

We got off the chairs and back onto the street. We walked a bit, just to get the circulation going. I wanted to take his hand, but he had both of them in the pockets of his coat. I already felt the sadness creeping in. I wondered for how long we would keep walking (hopefully all the way to Ridgefield Avenue on the other side of the river) but we stopped by my apartment.

“Well… See you around, Tiff,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face.

I smiled. “See you around, Chucky.”

He smiled back. I looked down at his mouth, at the little cut. Even at the risk of staining my teeth with lipstick, I bit down my lower lip, as if I was trying to give myself that same cut. I looked back into his big blue eyes.

And, somehow, we both knew. At this point, even if we hadn’t talked a lot to each other, I felt I knew him inside out. I knew him without saying a word. We moved towards the other –and kissed –and we embraced like that first night on the bed of the hotel room, not too long ago, but which felt like ages –and we kissed. Everyone else in the street disappeared in a blur. There was only us, and the warmth of our bodies, and the white light of day. I knew, right then and there, that this was love.

#childs play #chucky series #fanfiction

[atwowbrainrot-sorrynotsorry]

Hold Me While you Wait Chapter 3 [Spider/gender neutral Reader] +Spider/Kiri

Secrets are revealed as Spider has some heavy thoughts to get off his conscience.

TW: Mega angst, Implied suicide ideation, Ardmore's mind-reading torture machine. Hugging. A lot of swearing. Probably an "M" rating for this chapter.

Spider led you out of the human's area and to the yawning mouth of the cave which split the camp in two. It was quiet at this time of night and the moss on the cave walls glowed like a galaxy of stars. Ikrans slept in clusters in the crags and ledges of the cave walls.

"C'mon, keep up." Spider called.

"There are sharp rocks. My feet hurt." You'd rarely gone without shoes in the outdoors before you'd lost your shoes on a beach thousands of km away.

Spider sat on the very edge of the chasm, his legs dangling towards the ground hundreds of metres down. You sat beside him.

"Colonel Quaritch is still alive."He said solemnly. "I saved him from drowning. I saved the man who wants to kill my everyone I love." He looked over for your reaction.

"But why? That makes no sense."

"Maybe so, but you didn't know him like I did. He didn't just possess the memories of my dad. Miles Quaritch was...give me a second. It's complicated. He cared about me. He *saw* me. He made me laugh. And I... I'm not a killer. You should have seen how desperate he looked in that water. In the past year I've seen more cruelty from the hands of the sky people than in the previous 15 years combined. I refuse to be like that. I won't let Neytiri be right about me. I'm not a traitor, but I can't watch someone dying preventably and not help."

You wondered what Neytiri had to do with this, but spider continued with the flood of his confession.

"Of course, She'll kill me anyway if she ever finds out it was me who saved him. I wonder where Quaritch is now, if he's hiding in the forest, plotting and biding his time? Is he killing Jake right now and we won't learn until tomorrow? Have I damned us all?" Spider was panting, his voice breaking in grief. He stared over the edge of the cave. He stared into that midnight abyss a little too hard. "It's okay to cry." You said. "I'm honoured you trusted me with that information first, but you need to tell Norm. You don't have to say it was you who saved him." You gripped Spider's shoulders. "Let's get you a little further from this ledge, you're making me nervous." Spider scooted back a bit and put his knees to his chest and sobbed. "All I do is get in the way and mess things up."

"Buddy, I'm in no fucking shape to be your therapist, but I get why you did what you did. And since we can't do anything about Quaritch from all the way over here, maybe it'll help to theorize what he is planning. All that time with the recoms, you must have some idea what he was planning. And I spent a year on boats in the reef where you lost him. Where was the last place you saw him?" You asked.

Spider took a deep breath. "I don't know. It was rocky. The shore was rocky. It was fairly close to where the boat sank."

You thought back on your shipwreck experience. "Ok, that does not narrow it down a bunch, but when I was floating in the ocean, I didn't see any survivors. Granted, It was dark. But when I got to shore it wasn't rocky, there were trees, so let's assume he went in the opposite direction from me. How well does Quaritch traverse the terrain?"

"Fairly well, for a sky person." Spider gave a half hearted smile. "He has an Ikran."

"Really? That changes things. Do you remember the marine biologist, Dr. Ian Garvin? Well he had a house boat of sorts, a portable lab. I'd imagine it would be quite easy to find from the air. And it'd have a radio, and rations, and probably spear guns or something. If Quaritch found that, he could contact the RDA and get reinforcements." You theorized.

"You're not helping me feel much better about the situation." Spider groaned.

"Or perhaps, an airlift back to Bridgehead?"

"No" Spider theorized. "The Colonel wouldn't give up quite that fast. I'd bet General Ardmore would have his ass if she knew he let Jake Sully get that close and slip through his fingers again. I think Quaritch would rather not let them know he failed again."

"You're pretty smart you know that?" You told him.

"Think so?"

The two of you settled that it was likely a stalemate and that Jake could handle his own. You sat in silence for a bit, enjoying the glowing night.

"Is that all you want to tell me." You finally asked.

"Sure, I could go on, but if I don't stop now, I'll never stop talking, I'll just keep finding other memories to be upset about." Spider moved to stand up but you grabbed his hand to pull him back down.

"It sounds like you've been holding a lot inside. Am I right to think there's been too much shit going on, nonstop, for you to process your emotions?" You asked resigning yourself to playing therapist.

"Yeah."

"Well, there's nobody else here right now, and nothing else to get done. Tell me one more thing that weighs on your mind. How exactly were you separated from the Sully's and taken by the RDA anyway?"

Spider recounted the story of how the Sully kids had seen some military strangers with Na'vi bodies scoping out an abandoned lab trailer, how they were caught, but saved by Jake and Neytiri just in time, but they did not save Spider. "I don't blame Neytiri for that." Spider added.

He told you how Colonel Quaritch recognized him, and how He recognized Quaritch despite his new, blue appearance. "It's really messed up, demonic technology to bottle a soul and bring it back in a new body. He didn't even get peace in death."

They'd hauled Spider off to Bridgehead where he'd been uncooperative and refused to give them any information. "This bitch of a General strapped me into a machine and it had these panels that spin around my whole body. It was unholy bright and then it felt like my brain was being pulled in two by magnets. Worst headache of my life. Memories were being drawn forth that I did not think to think about. The General was still yelling at me, but I couldn't really understand her over the pain and the whirl of the machine."

"I realized they could see my memories and were searching for clues to where Jake had gone. It was so violating. I couldn't allow them to get anything out of me. If they could see my thoughts, then I couldn't allow myself to think anything useful. I used all my strength to think about Kiri's hands. I pictured every line, curve and freckle, mapping them out in my mind, and when Ardmore tried to steer my thoughts away, I doubled down. I moved on to Kiri's hair. I couldn't even let Ardmore see her face unless recognizing her was somehow useful. So I pictured myself rebraiding her queue. My imagination went tunnel vision on the back of her head. My head still hurt, but Kiri was the only image both powerful enough to think about forever, and neutral enough to be useless to the RDA. I don't know how long the mind-rape went on for but it stopped abruptly. Then I was taken to room with just a table, so Quaritch could try to "good cop" the information out of me."

Spider finished talking and looked your way with distant, unfocused eyes like he was still seeing that machine at Bridgehead, and not you or anything else at High Camp.

"Damn buddy, I'm sorry. Do you need a hug?" You asked, spreading your arms. Spider reached for you, with equal amounts eagerness and caution. You hauled the larger boy into your lap. He rested his head on your shoulder, still crying. You could feel the warm brush of his breath on your neck, his hair tickling your cheek. The two of you sat like that in silence until his breathing evened out.

"C'mon man. Let's go back to the sleeping area. My legs are falling asleep." You said, patting his back. Through the cave entrance dawn shown its pink light.

"Okay, and thanks." he said.

"Anytime."

Back in the oasis of Earth atmosphere, you took off your exopack with a yawn, and you and Spider crept silently through the maze of hammocks and bunk beds. You climbed in your hammock and adjusted your life vest under your head. It had found new purpose as a pillow.

Once again, just as you were drifting to dreamland, you were awakened. "Get up, Kiddos!" Avatar Norm yelled, slapping both you and Spider on the shoulder. It was meant fondly, probably, but his hand was bigger than your face. "Y/N, I have a few people from the engineering and mechanics team for you to meet."

Oh, right. You thought once again about how you'd decided you'd actually like to learn Na'vi weapons making, but now didn't seem like the time to mention it, as Norm stood expectantly.

Thanks for waiting all week for the update, this chapter was difficult to write, due to the heavy subject matter. At one point, I felt dread at the thought of writing. I'll have a more light hearted chapter up next.

Here's the link to the entire work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45911749/chapters/115558099

#Avatar fanfiction #Spider Socorro #Spider Socorro/reader #avatar the way of water

[codes]

Hi Matthew!! I hope you had a good day, if not, I wish you have a good week!! 🌿

Random and cliche question (only if you don't mind answering!). As someone who achieved great results in academics and finished uni, do you have any advice or messages you can give to someone who started uni this year? (and, ngl, is failing a bit)?

I hope the question doesn't bother you, you don't have to answer it!

Closing sentence: May all the Senas and Leos there is comes home to you early 🙏

hi anon, I hope you manage to see this! I’ll put it under the cut

I think you’re giving me far too much credit on academics! I mostly just quietly did my work then fucked off every weekend but I rlly wanted to start this off by saying that it’s okay to fail. It’s stressful for sure, it can really lower your morale, but a fail doesn’t and will never define you. It’s not the end of the world, you won’t suddenly collapse and die (even if it feels like it in the moment), and you can always try again. I actually had some professors say that they failed some classes when they started, my own therapist said that she failed a damn intro to psychology class too. It happens to people you admire, it doesn’t mean that they stopped trying tho or that it defined the rest of their career or life after college.

Your life doesn’t begin and end with college either, it sure as hell seems like it but I remember seeing a talk by rlly successful women who were asked if their grades mattered outside of college and all of them said no. you should always try to do your best! But it’s also okay to acknowledge that trying to seek perfection will do more harm than good.

Aiming for improvement is always the best thing to do in anything tho and you already made the hardest step by reaching out, even if it was through an anon ask. The first thing I’d probably do is see if your professors or TAs have office hours so they can go over your work with you if you’re having problems with a concept, walk-ins are usually fine but sometimes professors are busy so see if you can arrange an appointment if that happens.

if you have a question during class, ASK IT. Don’t be nervous, don’t let yourself be scared of something that will last a minute. Professors have seen and taught a lot more classes and answered countless questions, they’re there to help you and there’s absolutely no harm in asking what you may think is obvious. It also helps them remember you and it’s rlly nice to have that connection.

And please be social. Please look to your left and right, see who’s sitting there, and ask them what they thought of the homework. Forming a study group is hard if you don’t know anyone but finding a friend in a classroom is soooooo beneficial, being able to ask someone for help on something you’re not sure on saved my life more than once. Most people are a lil shy or quiet but I found it easier to start a convo after saying hello or asking a question about the class.

I always felt that the first tests of the semester are always the hardest bc you never know information that the professor is looking for but once you get a handle of what they want, it becomes much easier because then you know how and what material to study. I never really had a study method so I can’t give tips on that, but don’t color code your notes too much if it’ll distract you from what’s actually being written. No one listens to this advice but also try not to cram a day before an exam, starting your study guide even just 3 days beforehand will save your life when you’re stressed out and trying not to panic.

Some anxiety is good! It motivates us to start studying and get a good grade, but even if it’s easier to say than to put into practice, try not to let it consume you.

Also join a club and unwind a bit, you can meet new people. I found that my internship was a good way to take my mind off classes too, please look for some during holidays breaks! They’re very helpful and look good on resumes but it’s mostly a thing for the future. let yourself be more confident in your classes before worrying about that.

Good luck, anon! I hope what I have to say is beneficial, if you have any specific questions please let me know but there’s lots of resources available for you! Tutoring, office hours, other students, etc.

You never have to rely on just yourself, remember making mistakes is a part of learning. Please take it easy and let me know how it goes!

They wish the best for you too:

#ask #this all seems like real big talk coming from someone who spent literal months working on my own perfectionism in therapy but I’m serious 🫵 #let yourself be a beginner and make mistakes

[blorbocedes]

Alright PART 1 of the Valrussy fic this accidentally ended up being super long so I'll drop PART 2 in your askbox super soon. This one is mostly an intro and background info opener:

30 November 2022 Monaco

The race at Abu Dhabi must have been the most controversial race in the history of F1 so far ofcourse what else could be expected when 15 out 20 cars DNF especially when one of the remaining 5 cars caused the other 15 DNFs. Given Latifi's record people were unsure whether this was a revenge tactic for being kicked out of F1 or genuine incompetence on his part.

George knew that he shouldn't think this way on some level he remembered that Nicholas was his friend and longest teammate but when you have the win snatched away from you on the last lap of the race it's hard not to be bitter. Instead of celebrating his win with the people he loved best he had ended up spending half of the week under the care of an overly attentive Toto. He had no idea how Toto ended up being his emergency medical contact but he was mostly certain that had not been his own decision mostly likely something Toto had done on his behalf. Lewis had come to see him in the hospital but by now he knew Lewis didn't care not really he had just shown because he had to and brought flowers that George hated. Lewis had stayed for barely 10 minutes blabbering on about some pretty little German (or was it Finnish?) blonde that he was meeting in Greece for the winter break. But it was his parting statement that had made George wish he had the energy to throw the IV stand at his retreating figure "You should really get rid of Toto as your emergency contact you know he tends to go a bit overboard he was the same with Rosberg". Ofcourse Lewis thought it was that simple because he only ever got the good side of Toto. No one knew the real Toto Wolff not like he and Nyck did. Well maybe not even Nyck knew the Toto the way he did. Toto was his first time. He remembers being 18 knowing there was only one way to his dream and bargaining away the only thing that he had that was worth giving. He remembers spending hours crying into Alex's arms after but refusing to tell Alex what was wrong.

These days he could probably stop their little arrangement but more and more he found himself seeking out Toto maybe his business was now just hardwired to need Toto. Even if it made him sick to his stomach. Even if his brilliant, beautiful, loving girlfriend had been slipping him articles on grooming and therapist's numbers since the first time she'd walked in on them and he knew she was a saint because anyone else would have dumped his ass and sold the story to the highest bidder.

An FIA representative was here to see him now sitting across from him in Toto's living room. She seemed as nervous as he felt. "As you know Mr. Russell we having a long standing tradition of a winner's room" she said delicately "and well this time you've been chosen but since you were ill we agreed to postpone the winner's room till you recovered"

He almost laughs with relief at this point he would do anything to be out of Toto's house "That's alright with me" He says trying to keep the joy out of his voice " but I didn't keep up with who won to be honest with you. Could you clue me in on where I need to go?"

She smiles brightly and says "We'll be flying you down to Finland. Valtteri Bottas was the 2022 Abu Dhabi grand prix winner"

He promptly vomits on Toto's expensive rug. He remembered what Valtteri had promised. Why him?

I am once again overwhelmed by my anons who are worth their weight in GOLD and other precious metals and minerals 🙏🙏🙏🙏 please save this somewhere that isn't my askbox 😭

when I tell you I'M HOOTING AND HOLLERING. 15 DNFS!!! An Alfa Romeo win!!!!! Latifi said aite I'm out!!!! 🚶‍♂️ George about to WIN his first race getting bonked on the head...... something about Lewis not actually caring about George but showing up cause he's expected and bringing flowers he hates??? *chef's kiss* and then he's vacationing with some pretty blonde German or Finn 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 IN GREECE TOO?!?!!! you did THAT (for me🥺).....

Lewis only getting the good side of Toto..... only nycky and georgie porgie pudding pie knowing the Real Toto...... who dangled a seat in front of him at 18.... the way you were scientifically created in a lab to write something so specific to ME sgdjdjd and then he went home and cried to ALEX *faints* toto being creepily overly invested...... and then George sweet stockholm syndromed self defeating fuck going BACK to him, hardwired to need Toto... cause yea it's terrible but better the devil you know, than the devil you don't??? his poor gf....... naur not the grooming articles and therapists George will never go to cause Nothing Happened and He Is Fine, Actually..... the Dynamics here!!! he's in Toto's living room and he can't leave!!! Until literal FIA obligations come to play and we haven't even gotten to the valrussy.... oh my go d I'm at the edge of my seat. also thank you for making him throw up on Toto's expensive rug like a little chihuahua...

I'm sitting with clasped hands for part 2, 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ this has truly brought me so much JOY thank you!!!!!! i hope I can convince you to give it a home on ao3

Part 2 here

#f1 rpf #valtteri bottas x george russell #cw: grooming #the winner's room #valrussy #brat tamer valtteri bottas #blorbocedes ask #hardest working anons in the business I've always said this #cw: dubcon

[tarithenurse]

Accidental Partners - 8

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Sam Wilson &/x fem!reader Contents: For this one you can expect more of those pesky feelings! A/N: It’s been ages since I posted, so you can find the previous chapter here. An update on my writing status? It’s still going very slow because I spend a lot of time on work and therapy and real life shit but I’m doing better at least and hope to regain my desire to write as time passes.

8. A change

...  Sam   ...

“So...” Sam beings hesitantly, “what do you think of the lawyer?”

He just has to ask something, get a conversation going that can drown out the words that are echoing in his brain. “I’d like to think of him as my friend”. Why did it hurt so much? It was more than he had expected the day he decided to sneak through the window at a therapists waiting room, leaving his gear on the fire escape for Bucky to pick up. Sam had done it one a whim, lucky to predict [Y/N]’s movements through the simple layout of the building and even luckier that she just went along with the game which allowed them to lay low and escape detection.

“I...he seems good, I guess,” the hesitant answer breaks him from the musings of a desperate man, “it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot to compare him with, y’know.”

Doh. “Of course not.”

Silence falls once more, making Sam’s insides cringe and his brain come up with nothing but static.

“He uh he asked me something,” [Y/N] continues after a moment.

“Yeah?” I know, I heard.

She looks forlorn as she continues. “He asked what I’d do once this is all over, assuming I walk free...”

The mental record scratch jolts Sam’s thoughts into a different path, struggling to keep up with the unexpected subject. “What’d you say?”

“That I’d have to think about it but I’d like it to be something where I can put my skills to better use.”

“Like...uhm...intelligence gathering or something? CIA?”

“Hah!” the laugh is dry and humourless, “like they’ll ever let me join their ranks now. No...or yes, but maybe at a different agency.”

...  Reader   ...

You can see his brows narrow and his mouth set in the way it always does when he’s thinking hard. Suddenly you’re nervous that you might have misunderstood the intentions way back when he first spoke with you at the cafe after he’d saved your ass from the federal team chasing you. Didn’t he mean for me to join SHIELD?

“I know of at least one place that could use your skills...and even if that should fail I’m fairly sure Bucky and I could use the help.” His frown dissipates, replaced by a different kind of concern. “I’m fairly certain that any place you’d end up would need you to pass some sort of physical, though.”

The kind of physical he means probably isn’t the type that’s rushing through your mind, making you cheeks glow hot. “I uhm,” you try to cover your embarrassment, “might be a bit out of shape.”

“Nothing I can’t help you with, if you want.”

“I’d want that.”

Your answer is a bit too quick and the silence afterwards is nerve wrecking. It’s impossible to look Sam in the eyes – hell, it’s hard enough to just look at his mouth where a crooked smile is dancing – so instead you turn to occupy yourself in the kitchen with cleaning the single cup left behind by the lawyer, scrubbing it furiously as if it was the hands of lady Macbeth.

A hand lands on your shoulder, giving it a short squeeze before the heat disappears together with the sound of Sam’s feet.

...  Sam   ...

Suddenly things don’t seem so troublesome anymore. Yes, there’s the whole debacle with the trial, but for once the new Captain America dares to dream a bit further because there’s hope for something good afterwards. Before, Sam had been loathe to image an after because even a successful trial didn’t seem to guarantee what he really wanted. But now, a few minutes ago?

A deft thumbs traces the pattern on the phone as he sends the news of [Y/N]’s interest in a specific job to the right channels.

Bucky’s answer comes promptly: “You’re gonna be insufferable if she doesn’t join us, aren’t you?” There’s even a winking smiley face – Bucky has recently been introduced to the proper used of emojis by Sam’s nephews.

...  Reader  ...

As if to prepare for the best, Sam begins to make good on his promise the next day already: hours that have been empty and filled of tedious nonsense to while the time away are now spent with indoor workout regimes to the sound of upbeat music. The good thing is that he doesn’t seem to mind how out of shape you are. The bad thing is how out of shape you are.

“Saaaaam,” you groan, trying to push yourself up from the floor in what feels like the 100th push up.

“If you can talk, then you’re not using all your energy on training, babe,” he teases, but orders you to take a water break anyways.

He’s, for lack of a better word, bossy when he trains you but he doesn’t fail to encourage you and make you feel like you’re doing great every time you struggle with a set.

“Gotta say I’m impressed,” he admits.

“Why? I stink at this! AND I stink!”

He grins at you. “Stink of hard work, maybe.” Leaning closer he sniffs the air near you, making you unbearably conscious of the sweat on your skin. “Yup, that’s endurance and willpower right there!”

“Riiight.”

“No, I mean it. [Y/N], you’re dealing with a lot at the moment and now I’m ordering you around too...it can’t be easy.”

Falling silent, you take a rare moment to let it all sink it, something that you normally try to avoid because it always becomes too much and it’s the same this time: the weight on your chest changes from the kind from short breath to something deeper, your throat threatens to close, and tears slowly rise in your eye.

No! I can’t. Not now. Blinking the blur away, you stride to the kitchen with a mumbled excuse about refilling your glass of water (even though it’s half full).

The jug of water in the fridge is almost empty, providing a much needed delay where you can get your emotions under control. Or so you think.

“[Y/N]...” Sam’s hand is gentle on your shoulder and you instinctively lean into his hold. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know?”

Salty drops mix with the cool water for a moment. Then the tap is stopped, the jug is lifted out of your hands and you’re spun around into an awkward hug. You can’t see through the tears at all this time, but that’s okay because everything within is telling you that you’re safe in Sam’s arms and there is no awkwardness as you had expected but simply a feeling of it being right.

The two of you stand for a long time until your cheeks are dry again and the heaving for air has calmed. I don’t want to move. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders...even if it’s just temporary. And he feels so warm. Stifling a yawn, you snuggle in slightly closer out of instinct and you’re pleased to discover that he tightens the hold on you rather than turn you away.

“Better?” Sam’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Mhmm,” you concede without letting go of the man.

“Good.”

#sam wilson #Captain america sam wilson #Sam wilson x you #Sam wilson x reader #Accidental partners #x reader #accidental partners 8 #x you #the falcon #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction #mcu fandom #slow burn #feels #soft #fanfiction series #Sam wilson series

[alexandros-deathwood]

I appreciate your answer my dude. You know that's what I dislike about unhealthy couples is that usually writers deny they are and actually write things off as healthy, or worse: romantic.

I thought that was the case here as well when I read that scene where she cries because she feels unworthy. That scene is so unhealthy and full of red flags. Especially when he praises her for putting herself down.

Or the other scene where she is afraid to ask for affection, though in another scene freely gives it when he asks.

But it seems like you know they are unhealthy and this is intentional. You have them working towards being healthy.

If you're open to feedback:

Alexandros has the emotional upperhand. He has the power to keep holding her past actions against her and withhold affection/forgiveness because of it. He saved her life when she tried to kill him. Meaning she has to work and is at constant risk of losing everything.

You could have him realise this and work to minimize this, give her more power/control.

You didn't mention if he is ever going to stand up to his family for her, but if you want them to be healthier he should. Like I said, break up material if he won't.

I like that you are going to give her friends. Does she have friends before their relationship? Because otherwise there is still the point of her only being with him because no one else wants to be around her.

Also I get what you mean with not enough time. It's the same with drawn art. So many ideas, so little time. Yet we keep working don't we 😂 Even though we know we'll never be able to put everything into existence.

Yeah it's pretty bad to not admit your mistakes.

I'm kinda leaning into it because not everything is easy especially love. Love can be hard and complicated, but you do it, you make sacrifices, compromises, and amends because at the end of the day you still care for one another.

But writing unhealthy traits in a relationship and saying that it is romantic that is... unpleasant.

Might tweak those scenes a bit later.

Well guess who is working on a scene just like that where he lets her have control and be in charge. It's...uh.....make out scene.... After some discussions about their relationship with each other and some cuddling. Don't worry

Which kinda a good Segway to discuss some unhealthy accepts of their relationship where he can apologize. Tell her that he is sorry for sometimes being controlling that he's simply afraid, afraid of losing her and those he loves. That it's one of the things that him and his therapist have been talking about.

Actually that entire story bit his mostly her doing stuff letting her have control, coming up with a plan and him leaving it letting her do it, (probably should go back and make sure it doesn't sound manipulative, he did something and is exhausted and is in quite the pickle. She comes up with an idea, he suggest that might do this other thing instead, she points out a flaw and why they should do her's.)

Also a bit of sad but heartwarming scene where she addresses one of failings and makes amends with it. Won't say anything because I don't wanna ruin the surprise.

Also it is him being vulnerable with her. Not the other way around.

-

And like how I said a makeout scene I would very much appreciate feedback as I'm working through it as it is not my expertise especially one with two teens. I got two books at my side that have similar scenes and am noting how they do it. because I know I don't know the line between okay and and starting to get worry some. I also don't want to sexual teens i looked it up, I SHOULD be fine as long as I don't mention that is because they are young and have young features. I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE FEEDBACK. It's mostly going to be soppy not lustful. (I'm trying by best with all the knowledge I have, also with some asexual sex positive representation)

-but yes I'll see what I can do 👍

-

Would you be friends with year 3 merula?/lh

It's kinda one of her issues that I'm doing with a redemption arc, she is constantly not using kindness when she could and seeing how her boyfriend does so and gets things makes her start doing so. She start getting friend because she is starting to see how much of an ass she was and how it kept costing her things.

He ...nags...her about it, "please, they are more likely to help you." Trying his best to phrase it in a way that would appeal to her.

Her having a boyfriend didn't fix her issues though, she still working on it.

-

But he does stand for her, letting her explain her actions as explaining just how she has changed and how she has taken actions to amend. Standing in front of her and holding her hand while his family talks about her past actions. Asking his brothers to give her a chance, and that she is changing she just needs the opportunity to prove it.

-

-

I think I covered all my bases here, at least I think so.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #i would very much appreciate some critique of my writing if you would so be open to help #i already have some friends helping with the writing itself but not the perspective of their relationship

[americana-gothic]

I just saw Eve's Bayou. It has been on my watch list for a while and I have been thinking about it all, storywise. First off it's a great movie and you should watch it. Second, this is about to hit spoiler territory so if you don't wanna know what I think happened, probs best if you stop reading now.

I think Louis' main flaw was that he was a womanizer. He was not a good husband, he was a decent father. Perhaps even a charlatan of a doctor at times. It all escalates with Eve's love yet distrust of her father. She always admired him but could no longer trust him as she caught him cheating. The vision of him is permanently flawed. She's torn between keeping her father's secret to save her mothers face and just spilling the beans. However, it becomes evident that everyone knows that Louis is sleeping around.

A fact that hurts his wife but she seems to deal with it because she is well taken care of and loves her children. However, it's evident that Eve is frustrated with the whole situation, also mixed with her small jealousy with her father's favoritism of her older sister Cecily. All the characters in this movie are very real.

So Eve's walking a fine line between loving her father, keeping his secrets, and wanting to hate him for being unfaithful to her mother. Then it peeks when Cecily starts to act weird and shuts down. To be honest, I think Cecily's admiration of her father went a bit too far and perhaps inappropriate. The signs were all there, she went to extremes to protect her father, forcing Eve to not spill the beans and tell another story. To trying to stop her father from walking into a hornet's nest of women when he came home one day. She is also constantly taking her father's side at things. Even goes as far as disobeying her mother's wishes to keep her safe and sneaks out to see her father and cuts her hair in a very similar fashion as her mother.

The relationship between Cecily and her mother Roz is tense because Cecily is frustrated with her father's cheating, her mother's overbearing protection, and partially blames her mother for not being able to keep her father at home and faithful. So the night of the storm hits and Roz and Louise finally yell it out. Eve obviously hears this and is frustrated but tries her best to ignore it and goes to sleep.

The next morning Cecily, is bitter and mopy, she has a slight red bruise in her eye and blood on her panties, which later confirms that it's was probably her period. I think this is also a point here people do overlook. Her father tries to check up on her and she doesn't want anything to do with him nor the rest of the family. He even suggests she sees a female doctor and later a therapist. (HERE! Is one of the main reasons why I don't think Louis molested his daughter. If he really did something that heinous he would do everything in his power to keep Cecily from spilling that assault, especially to a therapist. )

So the therapist suggests Cecily takes a break from her family. Cecily agrees and this angers Eve and she confronts Cecily to tell her what happened. Eve thinks it's her fault, and Cecily breaks and tells her it isn't. She then tells Eve her story of events which causes Eve, who's already pissed off at her father's unfaithfulness to hate him.

Eve swears at the moment to then kill her father in order to protect her sister or just get revenge for her family. She later seeks the help of a voodoo lady and tells her the man she hates has hurt many people mostly her family. So they exchange goods and later leaves.

However, it seems Eve was hoping to get an exchange of power. As she sees her father and realizes despite how angry she is at the moment, she's not sure if she wants to kill him or not. That when Eve goes to ask for a voodoo doll of her father. Probably to hold onto just in case her father pissed her off later down the line she would use it. Is surprised and shocked that the lady took her word and cast a spell that would kill her father as she said.

She later finds her father at a bar with his mistress a married woman and realizes she much rather have him home and alive despite everything that has happened. However, the events Mozelle Louis' sister saw do come to fruition. Her father dies and her family is left in mourning. Despite all this Mozelle has a dream which I will get into later. She says she sees her brother and he tells her to don't look back and that he still owes Eve a dance. Despite what Eve did he still came to a vision to his sister to relay a message, which seems very loving and forgiving. To be honest, I think Louis knew with all his fooling around he had it coming. The whole town knew he was fooling around and he even knew his daughters knew. Despite all this kept cheating and instead of trying to change his ways he relied on his daughter's love to not spill the beans or let things escalate when it came to family matters.

These words leave Eve missing her father and she finds a letter from her father to his sister, her aunt, Mozelle about his version of what had happened. It sounded just as likely and perhaps even more so. He admits, fighting, and I'm not sure if he was drunk but it sounded like he came home from the bar during the storm late and that's when his wife Roz confronts him about his cheating.

The fight is loud, he's frustrated and tired. He he lies in a chairand is about to drift asleep. Cecily comes in to comfort him. She starts by massaging his shoulders which I still kind of find iffy territory and then places a chaste kiss, which seems fine. His eyes are closed through most of this. Then a few seconds later he says she's suddenly kissing him how a daughter shouldn't and he reacts and smacks her. Thus bruising her eye in the process and she later runs off. The words of the letter, the way he admits fault in suspecting his daughters' feelings towards him and not doing anything about it sooner. That he's pretty much a sucker for any admiration, from his clients, and family, including his daughters. That he indulged in Cecily's admiration and devotion.

Eve reads the letter and is upset. She's conflicted as she confronts her older sister about it. Her sister admits she can't really remember what happened. Which is typical of trauma. Eve knowing she has the same gift as her aunt tries to see the went for herself and what do ya know. It's like Tom Riddle, choppy and edited. Stuff is missing. Eve hears her sister break down crying, admitting she can't remember and hugs her and forgives her anyway.

To be honest, I think Cecily's trauma is due to the shame and guilt that she did try to kiss her father inappropriately. It is something I think most people would not want to remember and the shame of it would crucify any teenage girl well anyone really. Mixed in with the guilt that she may have lied to her sister about the incident. The guilt that she was angry at her mother, perhaps even jealous of her mother, despite looking a lot like her. I think her mind just blanked it out to save her own sanity.

I think Eve, after thinking about this and with her father's letter to her aunt. She probably came to the conclusion that cursing her father was slightly unjust. It was her sister's confession that caused Eve to seek the voodoo lady and we're not sure if she would have eventually due to her father's cheating habits. Eve's adult narrator voice, admits guilt of her murdering her father and forgiving her sister, who she loves.

The movie ends with them accepting the reality they are in and knowing they are starting a new chapter of their lives.

To be honest, I think Louise her father's account is the most accurate. It is easy to believe that her father was the one who assaulted her. It's the most common scenario of the two. However, I don't buy it since her father sent her to other doctors to try to fix the situation. Giving Cecily a chance to tell what happened and send her father to jail. I think the blood on her panties was her starting her period. Which probably also didn't help with the moodiness that morning. It probably was an unfortunate coincidence. Cecily admits her father hurt her so bad. Though to be honest, I think she's more emotionally hurt and betrayed that her father actually hit her and perhaps even turned down her advances. Which later traumatized her because once thinking clearly, realized what she did was also really wrong.

Though back to Mozelle whose character I totally admire. You soon get to realize her gifts come with a price. "Black Widow" tag/curse. She loses three husbands and finds love once again with a unique stranger as well. She does tell him she's barren but she doesn't tell him about her black widow status. So there's still a chance that Julian may bite it. Though, she has a vision of her three husbands, she clearly mourns them all, she loves them and they most likely loved her. Her vision of her drowning and flying at the same time with her brother telling her not to look back. This leaves me hoping that, perhaps her brother and her past lover's spirits helped break Mozelle's curse giving her at least one lasting chance for love. Cause ultimately it wasn't her intention for them to get killed. She wasn't spiteful, she did admit she may have cheated on one. However, I'm not really sure, cause she tells the story in such a prose like way. Also Julian looks like a guy who's a bit connected with the spiritual world himself. So anyway these are my thoughts about what happened with Eve's Bayou. I really hoped you saw the film before reading my thoughts.

#eve's bayou #meta #thoughts #spoiler

[thingsishouldtell-my-therapist]

Break down in the main lobby

Saw the new therapist yesterday. Broke down crying in the lobby of the 'community mental health center' in front of everyone. Had to go outside and stand in a corner for a bit. Almost just left the whole place, but convinced myself not to. She asked me to come back to the office to talk, but I didn't have much to say. I rarely have much to say these days when it comes to talking about myself (as opposed to music, tv, animals, buildings I like or hate), I just feel bad.

There's some how both too much and not enough going on in my head to have a real conversation about it. I'm not totally sure what we ended up doing in terms of new appointments. They scheduled me an appointment with somebody named Joslyn (must either be the psych prescriber or the vocational counselor). Don't remember what was decided as far as my next appointment. I think I agreed to something about a text. I couldn't pay attention, just wanted to leave and go sit in a park.

She slipped me $100 dollars before I left. I don't know how I feel about that. I'm a broke bitch, but not starving or anything. There were probably people in that very waiting room who needed it way more than I do. I considered just handing the bill over to a homeless person.

Can't decide if I should donate it.

Or save it for an emergency.

Or spend it on something that will be helpful to my mental health long term...but what would that be? I also considered just spending it all before I got home on teriyaki tofu and cookies.

#crying #major depression #Sound Health #seattle therapy #being a mess #new therapist #tw depression #therapy

[hel1anthus-annuus]

A poem that is more like a script

by me

Autobiographical

[We pan in on a very stereotypical celebrity style interview. I am sitting on a couch wearing something fabulous. I am famous. The host is a host. He can look like anything. Laughter and applause fades in as the lights hit us on the set. We’re live.]

Host: So, what are some of your major heartbreaks?

Me: (laughs) Well, we’ve all had heart breaks.

Host: Of course, of course. But what are yours?

Me: Oh, well, you know. The usual. Everything dies. Everything ends eventually. My dog, my first childhood pet. My aunt. Then my grandpa, and, well, there are heartbreaks I’m still waiting on.

[Audience laughs]

Host: Isn’t that the truth! But it sounds like there’s something else. Spill, girl.

Me: Oh… well, I’m not sure if I should talk about it. It’s my fault, you see.

[Audience goes ooooooh]

Host: Sounds juicy. Sounds big.

Me: It’s big to me.

Host: So what happened?

Me: My friends and I… well, we parted ways. To put it nicely.

[Host nods]

Me: It’s my fault. If you asked them, it’s my fault too. And they’re not wrong, you know. It was my fault. Uh… I thought it was forever. But forever ends. There’s no such thing. And it’s all my fault, really, I— I can acknowledge that. I distanced myself. I bitched— oh, I bitched— and I moaned and I complained. I thought he’d understand. I guess he saw it differently and saved himself. It made sense to me. And of course it did, I knew how I felt when I said it. But they didn’t. So when they saw— well, it hurt. It didn’t make sense. How could I do that to them? I didn’t have a good answer. Because why was I doing that to them? I said it was to protect them. And that’s partially true. I didn’t know how to say “I don’t like you anymore, but I still want you around”. But it was mostly to protect myself. As a narcissist, I’m my highest priority. And it really showed. You can’t have forever if you don’t work for it. If you just… coast. Maybe forever is a real thing. But I can’t have it.

Host: That sounds sad.

[Audience is quiet]

Me: It is sad. For them. I imagine. For me, it was world-ending. I didn’t even want to die. What was the point? Who could I hurt? No one. Suicide was always about revenge for me. And pain. Sending shockwaves of pain out through the web of human connection. It was about causing pain just as much as it was about ending mine. I didn’t know how to live without them. But I certainly couldn’t die. So I was stuck in this ugly place that’s neither here nor there. I still am. I walked outside my house. I didn’t even think about throwing myself in the street like usual. I sat down and called my therapist and scream-cried on the phone so hard she couldn’t understand me. People usually look pretty when they cry but I looked ugly and puffy and my throat was shredded. My eyes were red. I screamed I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to live like this, I couldn’t live like this. I said some other things. I couldn’t live but I didn’t know how to die. So what choices did I have?

Host: Misery, of course. There’s always misery.

Me: Yeah. I love misery. And I chose it for a little while. I resolved to die a slow, painful death. It would hurt and I’d be unhappy. I’d feel just as bad as I, well… felt.

[Audience laughs uproariously]

Host: You don’t appear to have starved. In fact you look rather well!

Me: No, I didn’t starve. I got ice cream with my dad. And then a pastry. And then a cookbook, which I’d have no choice but to live to use.

Host: Did you use it?

Me: Probably not.

[Host and audience laugh]

Me: This- this isn’t what I wanted to say.

Host: I know.

Me: I wanted to say something about misery. And forevers. And pain, and friendships. And the end of those things. I thought I’d have something sorrowful to say. Something painful. Something they’d see and regret and ask for me back and it would all be okay.

Host: Is that what you want?

Me: Of course it is. But that wouldn’t make things better. It would just make me feel good.

Host:

Me:

Host: At least you’ve got the cookbook.

Me: Yeah.

#words #vent post #poetry

[elizastjude]

He wasn't "real" yet. I mean, yes, the pregnancy test had been positive, I was sick every morning, and I had dropped out of college and started my adult life with the father of my unborn child. But he wasn't "real", at least not yet.

I was not in a good place, mentally, to be the mother of a child. In fact, just days before I found out I was pregnant, I had contemplated breaking things off with the father of my son. I was in my third year of my college education at a school I wasn't exactly happy at. I knew I needed to make changes in my life and I was thinking that I had rushed into my relationship with him and I wanted things to come to an end, and then I was late.

Having parents that were pretty old-fashioned, both of us were faced with the "you made your bed you lay in it" thought process of our parents. There was no way we were not going to have this baby and be together.

Up until this point, I was mentally, quite a mess, in fact, that is probably understatement in itself. I was a cutter at the bare minimum but more often, I contemplated ways to just disappear from the world.

My parents, oblivious to my suicidal thoughts, had discovered a "book" that I had written that explained all of these crazy things that went through my head and the attempts I had failed at and the scars on my arms, wrists and legs, when they unpacked my college suitcase for me as a favor earlier that spring when they moved me out of my old dorm room. Upon their discovery, they dragged me to a therapist.

I'll never forget the drive over to her office. I was so angry at them. I looked at my mom who swore to me that the appointment was for her and dealing with her mood swings she was encountering during menopause, I knew she was lying. I looked at her and told her if the apointment was for me I would hate her for the rest of her life.

Of course, the apointment was for me and of course, I could never hate my mom. I didn't talk to the therapist though. I just simply lied my way through the appointment and told my parents I would not be going back.

Two weeks after that appointment, I met the father of my child. Four months later, I was pregnant. So, did we rush? I would have to give that an absolute affirmative yes.

We were so young. I was merely 19 at the time I was expecting my first child. He was 21 years old already and had become acustomed to a lifestyle of such. He played darts, bowled, played softball all the things that meant trips to the bar with his friends following these nights, which meant, I was left home alone in my daily sickness from carrying this baby that was still "not real". I was terribly sad. I spent countless hours crying and begging God to give me a reason why I was even still alive.

One particular night, I was sitting on the kitchen floor of our apartment, staring out the window at the moon; something I would do often so I would feel less alone. I was crying, no, I was sobbing. I was so sick and the baby's Dad was out again. For the first time in a long time, I was holding a razor blade in my hand again. I was just going to cut. Cutting was something I would do that would make me forget about the pain in my head and heart because, well, I can't explain it, but somehow it would.

I slowly began carving in my wrist again and then decided to beg God for a reason why, again, why this was the path I was on now, I begged Him for a sign that I should not just make it all go away.

In that instant, my little boy kicked me for the very first time. I dropped that razor blade so fast and my tears of utter sadness turned to tears of joy and disbelief that my prayers had been answered.

That little boy saved my life. I am not sure if he realizes it to this day or if he even cares, as he no longer speaks to me for so many reason I can't explain, but he became "real" that night. He became my life. I have never tried so hard in my life to get everything right in my life as I did to be the best mom I knew how for him because he saved my life. Did I make mistakes? Oh, I made more than I can count on probably 100 peoples fingers and toes. Did I make bad choices? Again, more than I care to ever discuss. But, did I ever wake up and think that I would ever stop loving him? Not on your life or mine.

See, if he hadn't kicked me that night in my kitchen all those years ago, I would never have had my other 3 boys that have become my world, I would not have lived and experienced all that I have. I would not have even had the chance to fail him as I am afraid I did. But because of that moment, that single moment all those years ago, I am here today to tell you how amazing that feeling, how amazing a child can truly be.

My heart breaks knowing he will never see this, read this or want to speak to me now. It breaks every time I hear news of his life and how he is growing up so much without me in his world. But with a broken heart, I still love him, it's a bond that will never stop.

He saved my life and gave me a chance to learn how to live.

#pregnancy #unexpected pregnancy #college pregnancy #suicide #cutting #first son #therapy #saved my life #gave me life #faith

[fortuositywritings]

Collide

Part 1 Wanda x Reader

Summary: You bump into Wanda Maximoff at a grocery store. Wouldn’t be a problem if either of you were anyone else but you two were no ordinary people.

You would think having the ability to take anyone’s power would be awesome. It’s not.

With a simple touch, you could take any person with special abilities’ special powers from them. You figured this out in grade school when you high-fived one of your friends for the first time. Suddenly you could see through walls. That same year, you figured out they could take those powers back. 

A few years later you found out they could only take those powers back if they wanted them. You tried giving someone their invisibility back but they would not have it. Now you are stuck with it. You are stuck with a few others too, like walking through walls and mimicking voices. Those you got from random strangers on the street. 

Obviously, you tried to give them back. You wouldn’t take what isn’t yours, but it was an impossible task. Finding a stranger you bumped into in New York is kind of hard. 

You’ve tried passing off powers to other people but it never worked. You could only return them to the person who gave them to you. To give them back, all you had to do was touch them again and they had to want the powers back. It was that simple. 

So when you bump into Wanda Maximoff at the grocery store, things get a little complicated. 

You’ve made a friend recently who turns out to be Sokovian. Seeing as his birthday is coming up, you thought it would be cool to cook him a traditional Sokovian meal. A few searches on Google and you print out a list of what you need. 

You leave to the nearest store that would have all you need. You check off your list, heading toward the aisle of spices. You finally find the one the recipe calls for and lucky for you, it’s the last one. You reach for it but you feel someone else’s hand touching yours, reaching for the same thing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. You look at the woman who is standing really close to you for a stranger. She has intense green eyes, you notice. She pulls her hand away. 

“It’s alright,” you say. 

“Was that the last one?” she asks, awkwardly.

“It seems so,” you confirm. “But we can ask an employee if they have more somewhere?”

You flag down an employee two aisles down and ask. They shake their head and then tell you they won’t be getting more until next week. The woman with the green eyes sighs. 

“We can split it,” you suggest. “I don’t need the whole thing. At least I don’t think so? I just need it to make a Sokovian dish that calls for it. I probably won’t be using it for anything else.”

“I don’t know. Sokovian food is delicious if I may say so. You’ll get a taste and might regret sharing this with a stranger,” she teases. 

You smile and ask, “Oh, are you Sokovian?”

She nods and you add, “Well, then I insist on sharing it with you. Maybe you can actually give me a few tips on this recipe?”

“What are you making?” she asks you. You show her the recipe on your phone and she kindly shares some of her expertise which you’re grateful for. She follows you around the store making conversation as you grab the rest of what you need. Technically, you follow her around as she suggests you other stuff to add to the recipe. 

You add a mini mason jar to your cart. You both head to pay and outside pour some of the spice into your mason jar and give her the rest of the bottle. You thank her for all the help and wish her a great day. 

Wanda gets back to the tower in a positive mood. Everyone notices and asks her what happened. She replies that she just had a nice interaction with a stranger and it made her day. 

Though her day was made, the rest of her week was hell. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Her powers have been failing her. She doesn’t understand. At first she thinks it’s just the more difficult things she can’t do but then she notices how no one’s thoughts appear in her head. It’s quiet. She only hears her own. 

Something was definitely wrong.

You thought you were imagining things but after guessing what your friends’ were thinking for the umpteenth time, you knew you had taken someone else’s power. 

You don’t think it’s too bad at first. Only your friends’ heavy thoughts made their way into your head. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts you can never unhear again. 

The problem comes when you go to the library for the first time with this new power. The library is hell. It’s full of people who are just thinking loudly. See in public, there are people who are thinking loudly of course, but there are more people distracted and speaking without thinking, which you never thought you would be so grateful for. 

You don’t last in the library for very long. So libraries are on your list of places to avoid. Soon, movie theaters are also on that list and then so are museums. Any place where people are meant to be quiet is where it’s loudest in your head. 

You wish you knew who you touched to get these powers. You begin to think back at everyone the past few weeks that you might have had direct contact with. A hand you shook or an arm you bumped into. You’ve always been cautious about your surroundings so these things wouldn’t happen.

Everyone you greeted at your Sokovian friend’s party you’ve greeted before. No one was new there. The Sokovian at the store!

Damn it. You never got her name or anything. Maybe you’ll encounter her at the store again. The next few days, you spend hours at the same store. People begin to think you’re an employee and you almost feel like one, knowing exactly where everything is from spending so much time there. 

You’ve even made plans with one employee to go hangout. But no green eyed Sokovian makes an appearance. 

Three weeks you have this power when you find that not only can you read people’s thoughts, but you hold things without actually touching them. It happens when you drop something in the kitchen. You reach for it to catch it before it hits the floor but it’s nowhere near your grasp. However, it never hits the floor. 

You then notice a red mist-like substance coming from your hands floating in the direction of the object. You see that it’s holding it up. After that, you start practicing with random things around your apartment. You begin with lighter things, thinking you would only be able to hold weight that you could in your actual arms, but it is not so. 

You work your way up to lifting your car in the air and in that same moment you learn you could do multiple things like lifting your car and replacing the flat tire. 

Two months with these abilities and you feel you start getting the hang of it. You still can’t go to the library. You’ve tried again but the voices are too loud. You still go to the store where you met the woman that unintentionally gifted you these powers to try and return them. She seemed like a decent person and you don’t know what she used these powers for. Maybe she needs them.

You still have yet to find her. 

Wanda hasn’t been on a mission in three months. Instead, Bruce has been poking and prodding her with needles and running countless tests trying to figure out what happened with her powers. Three weeks ago she began to go to a therapist because Steve thought it might be a mental block of some sort that she had to work through.

Though therapy was doing wonders for her, they weren’t getting her anywhere near having her powers back. Bruce’s tests weren’t helpful either. She’s been stuck in the tower for three months and her days have never felt so repetitive until now- train, go to therapy, undergo tests. Rinse and repeat. 

The media had begun to notice as well. She turns to another TV channel where the news anchor asks “Where is Wanda Maximoff?” as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth. In a way she has.

Fortunately for her, you are watching that same channel. You are cooking dinner and have the television channel on for background noise. You hear them talking about the Avengers. They’ve never been of much interest to you, although they should be seeing as though you live in the same city and something is always going down here because of that reason.

“For those who have been living under a rock,” the new anchor starts, “Wanda Maximoff is one of the newer additions to the Avengers.”

“She’s the one with the red magic, isn’t she?” the co-anchor asks. That grabs your attention. You turn to look at the screen. “That’s right. She joined about a year ago after the fall of Sokovia.”

That had to be a coincidence, right? 

“She hasn’t been reported to be on any missions the last three months,” the reporter continues. That definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, you think, counting back the time you’ve attained these powers. 

“Here is a clip of Maximoff using her magic to save diplomats at the embassy five months ago when…” You don’t hear the rest as you watch the clip play. 

It’s the green eyed Sokovian who helped you out at the market. Your suspicions about it being her who had these powers were correct. You just didn’t think you took powers from an Avenger. Someone who definitely needs these powers to do her job and save people like the clip shows. Shit.

You smell the food you’re cooking burning. 

“Shit!”

Wanda pounds her hand on the mat. Sweat clings onto her shirt. She’s tired and out of breath. 

“Again,” Nat commands. Wanda huffs and stands up, getting back into her fighting pose. She takes a swing that the Black Widow easily dodges. Not two moves later, she hits the mat again.

“Again,” Nat repeats.

“Natasha, give the kid a break,” Steve says, watching from the side. 

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures him.

Natasha explains, “If therapy and tests aren’t working, maybe self defense will.”

Steve seems doubtful but allows it. They really need Wanda to work through whatever is blocking her from using her powers. He winces seeing Wanda hit the mat.

“Again.”

“I’ve told you for the millionth time. My name is Y/N L/N and I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. Or any of the Avengers, really. Or even one of their assistants or something. It’s vital,” you try helplessly. 

“Unless you have clearance, I can’t let you up,” the guy at the desk says to you for what feels like the hundredth time. You’ve been coming in the past few days trying to get someone to let you see Wanda. 

“Look, it’s really important. Can’t you, like, give her a message or something?” You’re desperate at this point. He laughs. 

“Ah, yes, let me just text her real quick. ‘hey Wanda. It’s that one guy you said hello to once downstairs. There’s some girl here that needs to talk to you’,” he acts out sarcastically, which you do not find amusing. 

“Listen, buddy. If you do me this favor and get your boss or whoever can give me clearance to see her, I promise she’ll be so grateful for you helping me get to her that she’ll come and thank you herself,” you vow. 

“I can’t help you, Miss. Now please go or I’ll have to call security,” he warns.

You rub your temple in frustration. “Fine. There’s no need for that...Michael,” you read his name. “I’m going.”

You turn around as if to head for the door but then do a 180 and sprint past a security guard who shouts at you to stop. You make your way for the elevators as the security guard runs after you. You press the button for the elevators but you notice they’re nowhere near the ground floor. 

The security catches up to you and in panic, you push him away with Wanda’s powers. He goes sliding across the floor and you bolt for the stairs.

You don’t even know which floor you would find Wanda in but you assume it would be somewhere up top. You begin your ascend. You reach the fourth floor and realize you should start using the StairMaster at the gym. You hear multiple security guards quickly making their way to you. You panic and walk through the wall, not knowing what was on the other side. 

You’re in some kind of engineering lab. You don’t think anyone saw you walk through the wall, so you try to act casual and stroll through the lab trying to find an exit. Then you hear someone call you. “Hey, you.”

You ignore them and act like you didn’t hear. They tell you to stop walking, loud enough that you can’t ignore it. You turn around to see a woman in a lab coat. She asks, “You’re not allowed on this floor. Who let you up here?”

“Oh, uh. Michael sent me,” you lie. “Sorry, I’m new. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. Maybe you could help me find my way?”

“Where are you meant to be working?” she inquires and you’re stuck not knowing anything about the Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, whatever it’s called. 

“The lab,” you say. Your vague answer obviously creates another question. “What lab?”

“They haven’t told me yet? I’m not actually working in the labs. I’m doing more secretarial duties, taking notes and scheduling stuff.”

“For whom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You can feel her catching onto you and it’s the only reason why you try this.

“For the big guy, obviously,” you say and then focus really hard trying to read her mind, hoping that a name will pop up in her head. Did Bruce get an assistant? You smile. “Bruce.”

“Well then you are way off. He’s usually working on the 87th floor,” she tells you. 

“Well, thank god there’s an elevator,” you chuckle nervously, pointing behind you. “Well, I should get going before I’m any later. You turn around confidently but as you walk away she stops you once more. You think you got caught but she says, “Elevators are that way.”

She points to the opposite way you came from. You laugh to play off your mistake, “Duh. Sorry, the lab is so big. Thanks.”

You head the right way. You speed walk to the elevators and then jog when you hear a rougher voice telling you to stop. “She’s on the fourth floor.”

You assume they spoke into their walkie, and you know you don't have much time before they catch you. You think quickly. You can’t make your way to the elevator because then obviously they’ll just stop the elevators. You don’t want to walk through a wall; the dangers of that are extreme given this is Stark Tower. You could accidentally walk into an ongoing experiment. 

You had to hide. And suddenly, you had the perfect plan. 

The security guard runs to you. He thinks you’re running for the elevator but then you turn before you get there. He sees you dive behind some clunky machine, presumably to hide behind. You clearly never have won a game of hide and seek in your life, he thinks as he goes around the machine to catch you. 

He’s left utterly confused when you aren’t there. The only trace of you are your clothes down to underwear on the floor. Four other guards make it to the floor. One asks him, “Where is she?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. “She was right here. Search the floor. She’s hiding and I think she’s naked.”

They disperse taking your clothes with them. You let out a breath of relief at not getting caught but then mentally curse that they took your clothes. You still haven’t learned how to make other things invisible yet. You never really used this power. Maybe you should start practicing.

You hustle your naked ass to the elevators, feeling incredibly exposed even though you know no one can actually see you. You press the elevator button and wait impatiently. It dings and opens. 

“The elevators!” You hear one of the guards yell. Two run your way as you step into the car. You put all your energy into staying invisible. It would be really awkward if you were suddenly exposed. You hold your breath when one of them looks in the elevator. You keep yourself in the corner furthest away from them. In their eyes, there is no one in the elevator. 

“She’s not here.” They leave and the doors close. You click the button for the 87th floor.

____________________________________________________

This will probably have 3 parts. 

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

#willsannievent #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #criminal minds

[azucarian]

Second part to my idea of how Tokyo Revengers could possibly end (First part here)

MANGA SPOILERS(?)

TR ; mental illness, major character death

A world without Hanagaki Takemichi felt unnaturally bland - anyone would admit. It had only been days since he passed away and yet the impact of his death was so blatantly apparent.

Mikey and Draken had explained to each of their friends that Takemichi had passed away - but, by far, the worst reactions came from Hinata and Chifuyu. The moment the news slipped from their lips, Hinata asked them if they were joking and, if they were, it wasn’t funny. Neither knew how to react, and averting their gazes. Chifuyu just broke down into silent sobs - he could tell instantly by their pale complexions and the dark eyebags under Draken’s usually clear eyes.

Mikey whispered apologies, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - I couldn’t save him, I didn’t save him— ” Hinata didn’t let him finish and simply cried, realising the severity - her boyfriend, her happiness, was dead. She embraced Mikey, and he held her tightly in turn.

The funeral caused agony for everyone involved - especially as Takemichi's mother collapsed to her knees, screaming "my baby" through her tears. As a mother, she felt as if she had failed - and no one would be able to convince her otherwise. Hinata approached the casket, hardly holding it together - but her hands shook as they pressed themselves against the wooden structure holding her late boyfriend.

“Come on, Takemichi... Now’s the time to tell me you’re joking—” Those words broke everyone else into an endless stream of wailing, tears and regrets.

I feel as if Hinata would never truly get over his death - especially considering she still loved him twelve years into the future. She would likely be placed on medication, or be consistently seeing a therapist, due to her claiming that she had “gone on days out” with Takemichi (which was obviously impossible).

Mikey would become Hinata’s support - he felt as if he owed that much to Takemichi. He would do an all-round trip to everyone’s graves every week - first to Shinichiro, then to Emma, then a small visit to Izana’s, then to Baji’s.

Then he’d finally sit down for a few hours to tell Takemichi about his week. How much he misses him “I wish you could see how everyone was doing, Takemitchy— We all miss you like crazy. Mitsuya made you this memorial blanket, look—” And he’d show the sewn fabric to the grave. There would likely be with something cheesy like ‘Toman’s Little Hero’ or ‘Crybaby Hero’ on the front, or stitched into the corner. Mikey would definitely be in tears by the end of it, blurting his regrets - and it always made him feel better (it made him believe that Takemichi was comforting him, even beyond the grave).

Chifuyu would always make it a habit to visit his grave weekly too - and (in the future), occasionally, he was joined by Kazutora (especially on days where the pet store was closed). He’d always bring a new puppy or kitten along, because he knew Takemichi would appreciate it if he knew. Kazutora always paid his sincerest respects, bowing so deeply that anyone would think he would break his back - he may not have known Takemichi very well, like, at all, but he was the boy who tried to save Baji from his bad mistakes. Kazutora could only hope they were looking after each other in the afterlife. Chifuyu would always light incense on his grave, and place his favourite snacks - jokingly saying how Takemichi couldn’t steal his food anymore. He’s another one who would cry, probably because of his own poorly timed jokes - but it was how he coped and no one judged him for it.

After the incident, Draken found it difficult to not scrub his hands raw - the staining feeling of his friends blood on his hands haunted him for the longest time (he only stopped when Mikey made him promise to, because Takemichi would feel upset knowing Draken was hurting himself). He didn't visit the cemetery often but, when he did, he came sporting a bunch of flowers and a few gag gifts (he wasn't great at gift giving, so he opted to be funny instead) "You're probably sitting up there worrying your ass off about us— Give it a rest already," although his words were harsh, a smile was on his face the entire time. He whole heartedly believed Takemichi was probably panicking and bothering Emma and Baji in the afterlife (if there was one, he wasn't too sure). He wouldn't cry, and he wouldn't rant - he'd just run his hand along the grave stone before he left with a "I'll see you later, Takemitchy". He didn't know how to appropriately express his sadness.

Mitsuya would always join Hakkai and Yuzuha on their trips to visit Takemichi's grave - mainly because Hakkai couldn't stand visiting alone. It hurt him to much to see his hero no longer living alongside them. The blonde had done a lot for Hakkai and his sister - but neither of them could escape that loneliness that came with his sudden death. The trio always sit and have a natural conversation and, occasionally, Mitsuya would pipe up with a "They're idiots, ain't they, Takemitchy?" in an attempt to involve him in their chatters. Oddly enough, Mitsuya always found himself sewing extra clothes - during the winter he'd bring a sweater to Takemichi's grave as a gift (although he was aware he couldn't never wear it) and always jokingly tell the tombstone how atrocious his fashion sense was "You dressed like a four year old had picked your outfit— Hell, even a four year old could dress better!". Hakkai and Yuzuha would always bring little trinkets that they found in the local markets - tiny figurines, poker cards, etc.

Other old members of Toman try as often as possible to visit the grave and offer their condolences - Smiley and Angry visit it together, despite not being overly close to the boy; they appreciated him and his loyalty to Toman and his friends. Pah-chin and Peh-yan visit with Pah's wife, bowing deeply and leaving cecelias on his grave before leaving. Inui occasionally asks Koko to visit with him but, when he's alone, he just quietly talks - knitting stupid scarves and wrapping them around his grave when he was finished (he was already used to grieving, especially after Akane).

Every year, on Takemichi's birthday, everyone gathers together for a celebration - over the years they've learned that, instead of remembering him for his death, they should honor his memory through celebrating his life. Everyone would get drunk, someone would cry, and many adoring speeches were made - a picture of sixteen year old Takemichi Hanagaki would be on the table, a drink poured for him as a sign of respect. As life continued, the ex-gang members started having families - and they all spoke highly of the blonde who had improved their lives. Their children adored Takemichi and his insane stories, inspiring them to be as courageous - even when they're scared.

Although he was no longer with them, he remained as a sacred memory to each of them - and they were sure he was happy with that ending.

FIN

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