#Meanwhile First is just chilling

[summertimemusician]

*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.

Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.

Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?

Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.

Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.

With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.

Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.

To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.

No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.

The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.

Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?

Just Revenant First in general.

Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*

[linddzz]

nothing is prompting this post at all I just wanna say that Viktor is also possessive about Jayce, if they actually did get together his version of possessiveness would start circling around to borderline exhibitionism. He loves that Jayce's face is slapped on stupid blimps and mugs. He's so into the fact that this city that disrespects him, his people, and disrespected Jayce until he became useful them...he LOVES that that city wants his man so bad. It always looks like he tolerates how tactile Jayce is but Viktor is basking in it.

Viktor thinks everyone should get a chance to see Jayce when he's sweaty and shirtless and breathing hard at the forge. He enjoys seeing people fawn and get giggly when Jayce smiles at them.

His form of possessiveness is going "Yes take a good look. Really drink it in. Enjoy that he flirts with everything that smiles at him, he really is a charmer. You noticed the shoulder to hip ratio there I'm sure. Sure, give him your address I don't blame you. Now then. Guess who has him wrapped around my pinky finger and die mad about it"

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I like about Leo is that he’s honestly really chill? It’s easy to remember the moments where he’s being obnoxious or excitable but I feel like most of the time he’s incredibly “go with the flow” and has an overall affable demeanor.

[themintman]

Anyway back to space dog

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

And when I say that if Mage!Viktor told Jayce he could save his universe but not Viktor at the same time (you can have one but not both) he'd choose Viktor in every single scenario then what???

[mcybree]

this scott 3l rewatch it so so strange. i was right with my original notes, their relationship does not read nearly as scary from the scott pov and im really wondering why this is. My first theory was that it was an editing style thing or a background music thing or maybe the specific scenes that are missing but now that I’m really thinking about it I Dont Know

[dykemithrun]

workshopping butch4butch kabumisu again i think its vital to the bit that a lot of people tend to think only one of them is The butch but they are never totally sure who

[sysig]

Chill, Sub-Commander (Patreon)

[katyspersonal]

What's your interpretation that the left hand of cleric beast is much bigger that the right?🤔

Well, like I've pointed out before, the only explanation I am seeing is blood ministration being done on the left arm!

However, this might get a little more interesting with the Cleric Beasts, because Emilia is also one, yet her arms are symmetrical!

My closest guess to why it happened is because of something Healing Church has been known to do with female bodies. Namely - do some sort of surgery/manipulation/operation on them in order to change their blood type into 'holy blood' one, which they are able to share with the hunters!

English localization team had to use term "groomed" instead of whatever this actually says, and this is definitely going into top 10 of my biggest headaches with mistranslations! As you can see from the Japanese script retranslation ( x ), the meaning is more literal, implying a procedure. I always felt like it would be a surgery on bone marrow, since this is where blood cells are produced, and doctors in Bloodborne could have learned to alter them into having impossible type of blood!

So, as a female cleric, Amelia might have had her first communion with the holy blood as a Blood Saint, instead of generic blood ministration treatment like apparently everyone else has!

I am still not sure why female staff specifically was the Blood Saints, since apparently blood vials are not menstrual blood, as we can learn thanks to Adeline:

Maybe it could have something to do with menstrual cycle, though, because of the whole cycle of moon vs menstrual cycle thing, and Laurence being affiliated with Moon Presence, and then Micolash also stealing his swag and basing his own institution on:

I'd say this is either some sort of deeply rooted superstition within the setting, or in fact, yes, the holy blood links to the Great Ones who put HELLA importance on blood and birth, so being biologically female is crucial for that link to take intended effects.

Ludwig is an interesting case, though! He was SUPPOSED to have blood ministration too, like Laurence or Cleric Beast of the Bridge! Why would not the first Healing Church hunter and the HEAD of their hunters do something so crucial? Especially since Cleric Beast of the Bridge drops the Sword Badge with which you buy Hunter Chief Emblem, implying that this beast is currently what Ludwig used to be? But his left arm is not bigger. In fact, it is even smaller. So I am trying to think of the variants of what had happened here:

1) Ludwig somehow merged with an actual horse, so his anatomy is simply no longer judged through the same lense

2) Ludwig is a leftie, and this is where he holds his Holy Moonlight Sword, so its effect would be a "remedy" for possible arm deformations

3) Ludwig is not a simple beast, but the one with a lot of Kin features, so his anatomy is simply no longer judged through the same lense (+horses are primarily herbivores, and Kin is associated with the flora in the setting, so maybe that's why he went horsegirl mode instead of getting something weak like antlers lol)

4) Ludwig is trans and actually was the first to get Blood Saint treatment rather than regular blood ministration (+we take Adeline's blood from her right arm, and notice that his right arm is a little bigger)

5) Ludwig is a cis man and was the first biological male who attempted to receive Blood Saint treatment instead of regular blood ministration, but that didn't take the intended effect because the gods Be Like That in the setting + his unusual visions and mutation might be the side effect of that and that's why Healing Church stopped doing that with male organisms. Basically, if a male attempts becoming a living factory for the holy blood, it will go "wrong".

6) Combinations of the above points

.....Okay, that went a little unfocused from the initial topic, but you see my points here! Thank you for the ask!

_________________

Bonus ideas:

- Whereas Ludwig is holding the Holy Moonlight Sword in his left hand, Amelia also is grasping the Gold Pendant in her left hand. So maybe nothing was special about her, but holding a special item in the "effected" hand will remedy the asymmetry effect, and had Amelia not been doing that all the time, she'd be asymmetrical too?

- Amelia using recolored model for Bell-Ringing Woman for her appearance might be not accidental, but a fuel for the headcanon that she has Pthumerian blood too, and Pthumerians might simply evolve differently, or traditionally have different way they' go for the blood communition. Off the top of my head, look at Loran Clerics having same sized arms:

Basically, I can answer why Cleric Beasts and the huntsmen have asymmetrical arms, but not why people like Emilia and Ludwig broke the trend despite being the first in line to have blood ministration normally... Because I just have too many ideas, and my preference usually falls towards the most logical ones, but when there are equally logical ideas I become helpless :')

[aroneuvillette]

spiral abyss floor 10 kicking my ass rn i have failed thrice

[likesplatterpaint]

Two of the five new rili shrimp died, WHOOPS. I thought the man just really liked that spot. Sigh.

But at least this man said peek boo before I moved the survivors.

[heavencasteel420]

Not trying to be mean or catty, but I know it will come off as such so I’m tagging accordingly. The two ways I can realistically* see St*ncy playing out at this point are:

Jonathan dies and Steve gets a repressed bisexual Cat on a Hot Tin Roof thing going with Nancy (aka the Sad Stoncy scenario) (this might actually work eventually if they talk about their feelings).

Nancy gets with Steve because things are too complicated with Jonathan, who has his own issues to deal with and moves away from Hawkins. Only it turns out Steve has some of the very same issues re: not knowing what to do with his life. They’re not all tangled up in complicated family dynamics and ACEs, which should make things simpler, but they’re also harder to address because Steve is just fundamentally not that invested in deriving a lot of meaning from a career/education at this point in his life. He was kind of hoping that being with Nancy would change that, too, so he’s pretty frustrated himself! She tries to encourage him to go to community college or find something to do near Emerson, but he keeps putting it off. Worse case scenario, he gets it into his head that the solution to everything is to get back into his dad’s good graces and take a position at the…business factory? Which is obviously way worse to Nancy than her 20yo boyfriend goofing off for a while. They break up during the summer after her first year at Emerson after having an argument prompted by the movie St. Elmo’s Fire. It’s a relief to both of them at that point.

*Realistically to me personally. I don’t expect the show to share my vision.

[hershelwidget]

working on so many projects

tag yourself i'm "swap auuu"

[apotelesmaa]

Every time a tsukasa stan insults emu or nene I put a single pebble in a jar and when that jar fills up colopale will kill tsukasa off

[matt-murdockk]

Discretion

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader words: 2.0k summary: You and spencer are confident you are being discreet about your relationship (you are not) warnings: very raunchy making out in the elevator but otherwise it's fluffy like a freshly shampooed cow a/n: is three sugars too much for coffee? i have no idea how much is too much when i write spencer's coffee order. let's just say 3 is too much because this man drinks his coffee SWEET

To say that Penelope Garcia was a naturally curious woman would be underselling it by a criminal degree. And when it came to her friends— her team, her family— that curiosity was lovingly relentless.

Which is how (Y/n) found herself cornered in the tech room at exactly 8:32 a.m. by both Garcia and Emily, coffee in hand, nowhere to run.

“Okay,” Emily said, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked. “We’ve been patient.”

Garcia chimed in, “Painfully patient.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” (Y/n) said, sipping her coffee like she hadn’t heard them.

“Oh, please,” Emily scoffed. “You’ve mentioned your boyfriend a grand total of two times.”

“Three,” Garcia corrected. “But one of those was just ‘my boyfriend likes mango,’ which doesn’t even count.”

“I’m a private person.”

“You work with federal agents,” Emily deadpanned. “We find things for a living.”

(Y/n) sighed. “Fine. He’s... sweet. Thoughtful. Overly romantic, if I’m honest. In the best possible way.”

“Oh?” Garcia leaned in. “Like how?”

(Y/n) paused too long.

Garcia gasped. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You are,” Emily grinned. “Spill.”

“Okay, once,” (Y/n) said reluctantly, “he emailed me a PDF file titled ‘just because.’ It had scanned pages from an annotated copy of my favourite book, with his notes in the margins. Like, handwritten. From when he first read it.”

“That’s actually disgustingly romantic,” Emily muttered.

Garcia blinked. “Who emails their girlfriend a PDF?”

(Y/n) smiled in sweet recollection of that memory, how it was so unapologetically him— precise, nerdy, and quietly sentimental. He hadn’t even said anything when he sent it, just a subject line that read “Thought of you while reading.” And the book? It was something she mentioned offhandedly during a debrief three months prior. Of course he remembered. He always did.

Meanwhile, across the bullpen, Derek Morgan nudged Spencer Reid with the edge of a manila folder.

“You’ve been annoyingly chipper lately,” Morgan said.

“I’m always chipper.”

“No, you’re twitchy and anxious. This”— he gestured vaguely at Reid’s face— “is new. You’ve been smiling like someone who’s gettin’ some.”

Spencer flushed but didn’t deny it. Just shrugged, soft and smug.

Morgan narrowed his eyes. “Pretty Boy has a secret.”

——————————————————————————————————

It was early— too early, by most of their standards. The bullpen still had that quiet, sleep-hazed hush to it, the kind that only ever lasted until the second pot of coffee kicked in.

Spencer was already at his desk, half-slouched over a file, tapping a pen against the paper in a steady rhythm. His brow was furrowed, curls slightly unkempt, cardigan sleeves already shoved up to his elbows like he hadn’t even noticed the chill in the air.

(Y/n) walked in, hair still damp from her shower, nursing her own cup of caffeine like it was oxygen. Without a word, she stopped beside him, set a second cup of coffee on his desk— black, three sugars, extra hot. Just how he liked it.

Spencer looked up, blinking. And then smiled.

Not the polite kind. Not the absentminded “thanks” he gave to Morgan when he handed him a report. This one was soft. Familiar. The kind of smile that landed a little too slow and lingered a little too long.

She smiled back— tiny, sleepy, warm— and kept walking.

From his desk, Morgan raised an eyebrow.

“You two telepathic now?” he called.

(Y/n) didn’t miss a beat. “He just looks like a three-sugar morning.”

Spencer flushed lightly. Tried very hard to look engrossed in his file.

Morgan tilted his head, amused, but said nothing else.

For now.

——————————————————————————————————

The post-briefing hallway was always a mess— agents filtering out in loose, staggered clusters, already juggling phone calls and folders and to-go cups. (Y/n) and Spencer walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder, debrief sheets tucked under their arms.

It was nothing new. They always walked like that. But someone turned the corner too fast— an intern, maybe— nearly colliding with (Y/n) in the narrow hallway.

Spencer’s arm was around her waist before she even had time to react, catching her with practiced ease.

“Careful,” he murmured, the word quiet and close, his eyes flicking over her quickly. Not panicked. Just... thorough. Like he had to be sure she was still in one piece.

She nodded, barely flustered. “I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move right away.

His hand stayed at the small of her back— gentle, warm, grounding— for just one second too long.

They started walking again like nothing had happened.

Except Emily had seen the whole thing.

She stopped mid-step, one brow raised, lips pursing in suspicion. Watched them disappear around the corner with narrowed eyes.

Then shook her head once and muttered under her breath, “Nah. No way.”

And kept walking.

——————————————————————————————————

It was supposed to be a routine systems check.

Garcia was combing through the security logs for the east wing elevators— standard operating procedure after a glitch flagged a potential breach. Ninety-nine percent of the time, this kind of thing amounted to someone forgetting their badge or JJ carrying Henry in through the staff entrance.

She wasn’t even paying that much attention. Fingers flying on autopilot, her mind already halfway on her lunch order, until the timestamp 22:41 popped up.

She blinked. Squinted. Paused. Rewound.

Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh my god.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. She rewound again. Yes. Still there. Not a hallucination. Not her mind playing tricks.

Definitely Spencer Reid.

And— holy shit— definitely (Y/n).

In an elevator.

Making out.

Not cute-office-romance making out.

No, this was pressed-up-against-the-wall, hands-everywhere, breathless and starved and feverish kind of making out. Spencer's hand was on her waist, then in her hair, then gripping her thigh as he practically lifted her off the ground. And (Y/n)? Her mouth was at his jaw, her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt like she was trying to burn the feel of it into her palms.

Garcia made a high-pitched, involuntary squeak.

Then slammed her hand on the desk phone.

“Derek Morgan. Tech room. Now.”

Morgan arrived first. Followed by Emily, who walked in brow furrowed. “You paged me? What’s the—?”

She cut herself off.

“... Is that the elevator?”

“It is,” Garcia nodded solemnly.

Emily leaned forward. “Wait— is that (Y/n)?”

“Is this— ?” Morgan started, but the words died in his throat as he looked closer.

His jaw dropped.

“Is that— ?”

“Oh, it is.”

A long beat of stunned silence.

Then, slowly, “Spencer?” Morgan said, voice incredulous.

“Oh, it gets better,” Garcia said, grinning wickedly as she hovered over her keyboard.

Morgan and Emily were already leaning in close, popcorn-level invested.

She hit play again.

The footage resumed.

At first, it was just (Y/n) and Spencer standing in the elevator, talking— innocent enough. Until Spencer said something— inaudible, but clearly effective— and (Y/n) rolled her eyes, stepped forward, grabbed him by the tie, and yanked him down into a kiss.

Morgan let out a low whistle.

But that wasn’t the part Garcia was talking about.

At around the 45-second mark, Spencer’s hands slid down (Y/n)’s back and landed firmly on her hips, then lower.

“Oh my God,” Emily said, eyes wide.

Then (Y/n)’s back hit the elevator wall, and Spencer didn’t even hesitate— one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding beneath her blazer, under her shirt, palm flat against her bare waist.

He kissed her like they were the only people in the world. Like it was muscle memory. Urgent. Confident. Completely un-Spencer.

And then she moaned. Audibly. In the security camera footage.

“Oh my God,” Garcia repeated, one octave higher.

Morgan just stared, stunned silent for once in his life.

Spencer pulled back for a breath in the footage, then leaned in again— kissing her jaw, her neck, his hand definitely not on her waist anymore.

Emily had to fan herself with a stray file.

“Spencer Reid,” she said, breathless. “Has game.”

“Game?” Morgan echoed. “That man is playing a whole ass league.”

“WAIT. OH MY GOD. SPENCER IS PDF GUY?!”

Morgan looked between them. “Wait. Who the hell is PDF guy?”

“Long story,” Emily muttered, eyes still glued to the screen. “Holy shit.”

They all watched in silence as the footage looped again.

Spencer leaned in, said something at her ear. Whatever it was, it made (Y/n) flush, then pull him in again, mouths meeting like it physically hurt to be apart. His hands— decidedly not where they should be— disappeared beneath the hem of her shirt just as the doors started to open.

Then they broke apart like nothing happened, like they weren’t seconds away from defiling federal property, both adjusting their clothes with the sort of casual precision that only came from lots of practice.

The video ended. Nobody said anything for a full five seconds.

Then Garcia breathed, “Our little genius is secretly a menace.”

Emily nodded. “Remind me to never underestimate Spencer Reid ever again.”

Morgan just whistled. “Damn. Pretty Boy really is full of surprises.”

——————————————————————————————————

It started innocently enough.

Spencer and (Y/n) were at their desks, quietly reviewing case files. Garcia strolled in, followed by Emily and Morgan, all three of them wearing suspiciously gleeful expressions. Spencer looked up first, sensing the shift in energy like a deer catching the scent of danger.

“Morning,” he said slowly.

Garcia beamed. “Oh honey. Don’t be coy.”

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “Coy about what?”

“Oh, just your scandalous elevator escapades.”

Spencer blinked. “I— what?”

Garcia spun her laptop around with a dramatic flourish. “Roll tape.”

On-screen, the infamous elevator footage began to play. There they were— Spencer and (Y/n)— barely waiting for the doors to shut before she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him into a kiss that could not, under any circumstances, be labelled work appropriate.

(Y/n)’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in horror. “Where did you— how did you—”

“I run the surveillance system, Doctor Love,” Garcia said, smug. “A glitch flagged the camera, and lo and behold, I find this cinematic masterpiece.”

Morgan leaned in, whistling low. “Spencer Reid, you sly bastard.”

Emily made an impressed sound. “Honestly? Respect.”

Spencer looked like he was about to pass out. “Please don’t show anyone else—”

Right on cue, JJ walked in holding a folder. “Show anyone else what—?”

Garcia spun the laptop before anyone could stop her.

JJ saw exactly three seconds of the video before she yelped and turned away. “NO! MY EYES! What the hell?!”

(Y/n) groaned, slumping forward into her desk. “This is great. This is all so great.”

Spencer reached over and shut the laptop with a decisive click. “Okay. We’re done. The video is gone now. That’s the end.”

Emily elbowed Garcia. “I’m not deleting that.”

Morgan grinned. “Pretty Boy’s been hiding a whole new playbook.”

Before either Spencer or (Y/n) could respond, Rossi strolled into the bullpen, sipping his coffee. He stopped briefly, looked around at the wide eyes and pink faces, clocked the shut laptop, and said calmly—

“Took you all long enough. Some profilers you are.”

Spencer looked up, shell-shocked. “Wh— You knew?”

Rossi shrugged. “There was palpable tension. I could taste it in the air.”

JJ, still blinking the trauma from her eyes, turned to Hotch as he passed by with a file in hand. “Hotch, did you know?”

Without missing a beat, Hotch said, “They filled out the disclosure forms nine months ago.”

"Nine months? You guys lied to us for NINE MONTHS?" Garcia was startled to say the least.

Hotch looks up briefly, expression unreadable, and mutters, “Next time, if you’re going to be subtle, try harder.”

(Y/n) made a noise that could only be described as a whimper and slowly began sinking into her chair like she hoped the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Spencer leaned over, voice low and a little sheepish.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “I’d do it all over again.”

(Y/n) looked at him, still half-hidden behind her hands.

“…Even the elevator?”

He gave a faint, conspiratorial smile. “Especially the elevator.”

[suiana]

fem reader for this one guys BUT imagine having a kid and one day you go into his room (like you always do) but this time your little son has a picture of your family drawn! aww how cute-

"mommy, my friend jim says you look pretty today ☺️"

"t-that's very nice of him honey! ahaha..."

what. the. fuck.

you head to tell your husband this dreadful news. what the hell is your kid talking about??? is this a case of psychosis?? schizophrenia?? or even worse... is it some sort of demon haunting your darling child?!

"darling! look at what our child has drawn! isn't this a cause for concern?"

"yeah that's just jim, i regularly fist fight him to see who gets to be the man of the house. we stalemate all the time."

"babe what the FUCK do you mean you fist fight him."

turns out your worst fears have come through but the demon isn't there to hurt your child but there to... take over your husband's place as his new father??? and to be your new husband???

and your husband knows this???

what the actual fuck???

you're terrified, shaking and trembling at the mere thought of a demon being anywhere near your child. and no, this isn't one of those hot anime boys that's slightly scary type shit. this is DEMON monster standing in your bedroom at night crawled out of your nightmares type shit.

so when you have your first encounter with him you expected anything but this.

"AHHH-"

"𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖋𝖊, 𝖎 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 ❤️ 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖋𝖊, 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖎 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉? 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖘 𝖒𝖊 ☺️"

"oh!"

he's... surprisingly chill??? meanwhile your human husband has never been this chill??? he's like, lowkey crazy if you're being honest. chasing away any other guys, hissing at them...

"babe why the HELL are you holding hands with JIM."

"he gave me a flower babe, look!"

"you... you vile BEAST! HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY WIFE, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU."

"𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖋𝖊❤️"