#On the other the Worlds Biggest Criminals are now against him

[piinksdoll]

→ [The Language of Flowers | Spencer Reid]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ fluffy

Word Count~ 1.5k

Warnings~ typical criminal minds violence, mentions of alcohol (wine)

a/n~ k this is very fluffy and cute, so yeah! have fun lmk what yall think! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

Week 1

It's the one month anniversary of me joining the BAU, and ever since I've had the biggest crush on a certain genius doctor. I've tried to ask him out but he never gets the hint and always ends up bringing the others to any “date” I plan. So now I've decided to speak to him in a language that, hopefully, he'll understand.Code, but in a cute way. I'm going to bring in an arrangement of flowers to put in the conference room every week. Each one with flowers representing my feelings towards him. So, to celebrate my 1 month-iversary im bringing a collection of forget-me-nots, lavender, and daisies, hoping mr.genius will finally get it. 

The sound of Derek’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts “Hey mama, one month with us how you feelin’? Wanna run away yet?” I rolled my eyes at his playfulness. “Not yet but you’re makin me want to. No but seriously I've loved it here more than anywhere else and although it gets crazy sometimes I wouldn't trade it for the world.” Derek laughed while pulling me into a big hug which I returned gladly. “Ooh hugs! I want in!” I let go of Derek and before I got a chance to react, I felt Penelope engulf me in her arms. “Oh congrats on one month, love! Never leave us!” I smiled against her. “Flowers? For me? You shouldn't have” I hear Emily’s voice accompanied by JJ followed by the click of their heels. “Ha ha very funny. No, they're for the conference room, I felt we needed some brightening.” I explained as we made your way to the conference room. “There, they look beautiful.” I set the vase of flowers in the middle of the table admiring my work. They're in the middle, he cannot miss them. 

Spencer walked into the conference room and couldn't help but notice the arrangement of flowers you had brought in and wonder if there's a deeper meaning to it all. He remembers your earlier words about the craziness of the office and the pattern of florals seemed to suggest bringing peace and calmness to the office, along with a hint to the deeper feelings of admiration and loyalty. He wondered who do you admire?

Week 2

While trying to find an unsub, I got thrown onto the floor and kicked in my ribs. My wrist and ribs were broken. I got away when Morgan tackled him but I was still not able to stand up, or move. I felt a pair of hands hold me. “Are you okay? Oh God, you’re hurt,” Spencer muttered, I tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot up my side. “I’m fine,” I lie, though the sharp ache in my wrist and ribs says otherwise. “Just… a little roughed up.” “Fine?” Spencer repeats, his voice rising in disbelief. “You’re bleeding, your wrist looks broken, and you just took on a guy twice your size.” His hands gently press against your ribs, and you can’t help but hiss in pain. “That’s not fine.” 

We make it out to the medics and they take me to the hospital. After waking up in a hospital room I see Spencer standing over me. “You scared me,” Spencer says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I heard you scream, I- I thought…” He cuts himself off, his jaw clenching as he fights to keep control of his emotions. I reached out with my good hand, gently touching his arm. “I’m still here, Spencer. I’m okay.” I looked into his eyes, the soft brown making me melt. I feel him squeeze my hand gently, there's no one else I'd rather be with at this moment. 

I came back to work after a week off, demanded by Hotch of course. This week I chose an arrangement of peonies, baby’s breath, and sweet peas. “How are you feeling?” I see Hotch, his face sporting his signature frown with his eyes laced with concern. “I'm feeling good. I think writing might still be a problem but pretty good for the most part.” I nod assuring him. “Ooh yay! More flowers! I've missed these.” I laugh at Penelope’s words. I walk into the conference room to find Spencer already in there. After setting the vase down, I make my way over to where Spencer is and before he can react I engulf him in a hug. I feel his hesitancy, the way his body stiffens at my touch but I don't let go. I slowly feel him relax and wrap his arms around my waist. “I- uh-” he stammers, his voice soft and uncertain. “Are you okay?” I nod against his chest, unable to find the words at first. “I just…” My voice wavers, “I needed to thank you. For everything. For saving me.” His brow furrows in concern, “You don't need to thank me. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” His voice is soft, I can feel his breath against my forehead. I look up at him “Spencer,” I whisper, my voice quiet. “You don’t have to be scared.” He smiles at me in assurance. 

While the briefing is going on, Spencer once again studies the flowers. He sees you’re grateful for the kindness and support shown by the team. The sweet peas show gratitude, peonies represent compassion and the babys breath represents love. He smiles to himself thinking about the message you're sending. 

Week 3

Last night we went to Rossi’s for a wine and pasta night. It was the first one since I had joined the team and it was amazing. The laughter, easy conversations, the smell of wine and garlic in the air. It was the first time I had seen everyone on the team so relaxed, even Hotch was smiling. During the night I had seen Spencer so happy and smiley. I caught him a few times staring at me, it made me so shy and it wasn't just the wine. That night wasn't just amazing because of Rossi’s expensive wine and amazing pasta, it was finally feeling a part of the team, and seeing everyone so happy. So this following monday I decided to bring in a warm and bright arrangement of sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and snapdragons. I smiled seeing it in the centre of the table.

Spencer walked into the conference room excited to see the new arrangement you had brought in for the week. He takes in the pattern of warm colours, the sunflowers standing out the most. He studies the message you're sending, the sunflowers representing loyalty and adoration perhaps towards the team, and chrysanthemums representing friendship. You caught him staring at the flowers, it made you smile knowing he understands what you mean. 

Friday of Week 3

I walked into the office today, it is a paperwork day so it's going to be slow. I always get to the office a little early, not earlier than Hotch or Spencer but I'm always the 3rd one there. As I walked up to my desk, I noticed a bouquet of flowers, red roses, white lilies, pink tulips, and baby's breath all wrapped in baby pink and white tissue paper. I smiled at the beautiful arrangement, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. “Y/n..” Spencer’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him standing a few feet from me, his hands fidgeting nervously with a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation on his face. “Spencer,” I whispered, smiling as I looked at the bouquet in my hands. “Did you- are these from you?” He smiled softly “I—uh, yeah,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t sure if it was too much. You always bring us flowers, with secret messages, so I thought I'd return the favour…” Warmth filled my chest, the thoughtfulness, the way he had chosen each flower with care-it was perfect. So Spencer.

“You noticed…” He nodded at my words “Ofcourse, I figured it out the first time you brought them in, and I've been trying to tell you somehow…” I looked at him shocked. “You didn't have to say it with flowers, but I'm glad you did.” I teased gently. He stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. “Maybe next time I’ll say it with words…” His voice soft but steady, I smiled, my heart racing just a little faster. “I think I’d like that.” I felt his lips on mine, he kissed me gently. I smiled into his lips, 

“Woo hoo finally, pretty boy and pretty girl,” Morgan’s voice rang through the office, we broke apart at his words. “Dammit I had 2 more weeks, you guys couldn't wait?!” Emily whined, throwing her hands up dramatically, “What you guys had a bet on us??” I exclaimed watching her, Penelope and Morgan handing 20’s to JJ.

“Of course we did,” Emily said, shrugging with zero remorse. “It was inevitable. We just didn’t know when.” JJ smirked, folding the bills into her jacket pocket. “I had faith in you two. I knew it would happen sooner than later.”

 “We’ve all been waiting for this to happen. Took you two long enough.” Rossi teased. “Congratulations to you both” Hotch added, giving us a rare smile. Spencer looked at me, and I could see the same joy in his eyes. “Thanks, Hotch,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. I looked at Spencer, and with each passing moment, I felt more and more grateful for this chance at love, and all it took were flowers.

tag list~ @yourfavoritefangirl

[sunkillerlovechild]

dick and jason dynamic, where when they were younger jason always idolised dick and didnt see any of his faults and then he comes back as red hood and is mad at everyone including dick because he is the golden child, the can do no wrong child, that follows batmans rules

then for one reason or other he starts kind of working with nightwing

they develop a working relationship as equals, dick is not his older brother, he is his colleague

and this is where jason finds out that dick "anger issues, hasnt had a civil conversation with bruce in the past couple of years" grayson is in fact on as perfect as he always thought

he gets to see the side of him that dick never lets his younger brothers see, the nasty side that is ready to hurt anyone and do anything for the people that he cares about

they end up having to rescue robin from a hostage situation and jason almost gets a black eye because he is staring frozen at dick breaking bones and lightly maiming without a care in the world because tim has been drugged, kidnapped and is currently sitting tied down to a chairs passed out, so dick doesnt have to worry about him remembering any of this and just goes to town on all the goons

afterwards jason doesnt know what to think because who was that, hes never seen his brother act like that (and maybe he feels mad because where was this energy when he was kidnapped)

then they end up having a run it with some known joker goons, they are just patroling, notice something weird and jason doesnt even plan to engage, he has his plan for the joker and taking down his goons that are seemingly not doing anything interesting is not part of it, maybe he can to little surveillance later, find out what they are doing

dick whoever has very different plans because he has made it his mission to destroy anything regarding the joker so he doesnt even take a moment and just drops on them

jason is obviously surprised but well if this idiot is just gonna go and fight them, its not like hes gonna let him do it alone, so he goes and helps

and here jason gets to again see the part of dick that he saw the other day and even gets to see the reaction of the goons when they see nightwing, hes never see a group of criminals scramble faster not even from batman

after this jason is even more confused, even considers asking talia if maybe dick didnt take a dip it the pit recently but decides against it and just tries his luck with going to the source

so next time him and dick are doing something together he asks, because he heard that "nightwing is a pretty chill vigilante and follows batmans rules"

unbeknown to him dick just had fight with bruce couple hours ago, so the batman comment really just sets him of and he basically screams in jasons faces that hes not batman, he doesnt care about his stupid rules, that if he could kill the joker he would because he took his brother from him and hes never letting that happen again, so he shows very obviously that robin is under his protection and that if anyone tries to mess with him, they will have to answer to him and his no killing rule might just not be as unbreakable as batmans

and goes on how he was never batmans perfect soldier even when he was robin and that maybe if he followed the rules back then his brother would have never gotten the mantle and he would be alive right now, but he just couldnt, why should he not just stab the rapist in the dick so that he never does it again, why cant he break a hand of an abuser, theyve done much worse to their partner

and when he is finally done, jason feels like his whole world view shifted just a bit to the right and he doesnt know what to do about any of this and his big brother is right there, obviously hurting and god has he missed him so much, so he just runs into his arms, gives him the biggest hug and says someone like "i missed you dickhead"

and dick goes all still because what? and they pull apart and they stupid helmet is removed and there is crying and hugging and jason still isnt sure what to do now that he knows that his ohh so perfect brother isnt actually that perfect and they have a lot of stuff to work through but maybe right there in the moment being hugged by his brother none of it matters

actually like this so much i wrote a whole fic

[vivwritesfics]

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Chapter One - Criminal

Oscar Piastri worked for a criminal organisation. It wasn't the life he wanted, wasn't the life he had chosen for himself. But, like those before him, he didn't have any other choice.

He was just a rookie in the Verstappen organisation. He got stuck with the shitty jobs, like watching over Verstappens latest intake, a petty criminal who makes stealing cars look hot.

1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of drugs

Series Masterlist

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was painting the sky of the city pink, Alex Albon and Esteban Ocon had the biggest bag of cocaine either of them had ever seen. The two rarely delt with narcotics for their boss, but tonight he had a special job for the two of them.

Alex kept watch as Esteban, whose body was longer and thinner, worked his way beneath the car. They used the car jack to raise it slightly as Esteban got beneath and stuck the cocaine to the bottom of the car.

Who did this car belong to? Well that doesn't matter. Not for now, anyway.

Giggling, the two took off, driving back to their bosses head quarters.

In this same part of the city, a girl was running from the blue and red flashing lights. That was the problem when you steal cars, you always have to be on the lookout for the polite.

Y/N L/N happened upon this car with the cocaine stuck to the bottom of it. He had maybe a minute before the police car caught up to her. A minute to get the car open and a minute to drive away.

She got the car open easily. It was old, a classic. The owner would be sad to see it go, but that wasn't something she could afford to think about.

Pulling her hat from her head she worked about hot wiring the car and tuned the radio to her liking. Twenty five seconds until the police caught up with her.

The radio was also old, as old as the car. It was going to take her some time before she found the right station.

At least, the end of Rick Astleys 'Never Gonna Give You Up' played and Tears For Fears 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' began. Y/N grinned as she put the car into gear and floored it, heading towards the outskirts of the city.

She had to lose the cops before she returned to her boss. If she brought the police to his door, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her blood would be spilt. There was no telling.

Y/N managed to get away from the cops. Usually they'd give up and she could drive away, unscathed. But tonight was different. Tonight they weren't giving up.

"Fucking pigs," she muttered as she turned down an alleyway, trying to conceal herself and the car. She cringed as its sides scraped against the walls of the buildings it was squashed between. At least it would be harder to identify now.

But she had fucked it. She went to turn left down the alleyway, only to find herself blocked by a wall. A fucking wall. She was done for, screwed, and in so much trouble.

The police cars pulled in behind her. They had the sense not to follow her down the alleyway and get themselves stuck. Instead, they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the girl in the car, demanding she exit the vehicle.

Y/N wound down the car window. "I can't get the door open!" She called, hoping the police heard her. "So I'm going to break the back window and climb out that way, okay?"

She hasn't a hardened criminal, not in the way that mattered. She'd never had a run in with the police before and she didn't quite know what to do. So, she did as her father had taught her and remained calm and collected. Show them you mean no harm and they won't harm you.

She waited for confirmation from the police office closest to the car before climbing into the back of the car and kicking at the back window. It was no easy task, getting the back window separated from the car. It was a few good kicked before the sheet of glass fell away, allowing her to climb from the car with her hands up.

She was cuffed, placed in the back of a police car and taken to the station while the owner of the car was contacted. They took the cocaine from the car and drove Y/N to the station.

"There's something wrong with your car," she tried to say to the police officers, able to tell from the sound alone. But they weren't having any of it. They shut her up and continued driving to the station.

At the station they placed her in the holding cell. Prostitutes and other criminals surrounded her as she sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She just stole a car, she'd be out of here in no time.

But suddenly a police officer called her name. She opened her eyes and walked over to the door of the holding cell, walking past the petty thieves and flashers.

An officer grabbed her arm and marched her over to his desk. He pushed her into a chair and cuffed her hand to the arm. "So," he began as he sat on the other side of the desk. "Where did you get the coke?"

"Coke?" Y/N asked as she tried sit forward.

The officer let out a sigh. "You know, blow, bump, nose candy, sniff, snow, white rock."

"Hey now, I don't fuck with drugs," she called, slumping back in the chair. "If there was cocaine on that car, it was there before I got to it," she said.

The officer let out another sigh. He uncuffed her from the chair and marched her back to the holding cell. He threw her in locking the door behind her. If she wasn't going to talk, she could rot in there.

But she wasn't going to rot in there. The arresting officer suddenly got a phone call that he rushed to answer. The number was withheld and he knew exactly who it was.

The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, the accent unrecognisable. The voice maybe have been soft, but the officer still did exactly what he said.

"Yes, sir," he said, listening to the person. "Right away, sir."

The person on the other end of the phone hung up and the officer stretched out his limbs. This was maybe his least favourite part of the job, having to let the criminals go because the most powerful man in the city commanded it.

The officer opened the holding cell and grabbed a hold of the girl he had just arrested. He held her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her out of the holding cell. "Your charges have been taken care of," he grumbled as he marched her out out the precinct, around to the back.

Still holding her arm, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

A black van, which had previously been inconspicuously parked in the corner of the parking lot, rumbled to life. The engine was old, clearly, but it sounded amazing. The door slid open and three men, all in pristine suits jumped out. One strode over, a black sack in his hands.

The two others circled around her, taking her from the officer. The officer said nothing and quickly rushed back inside. The two men grabbed her hands and wormed together to tie them behind her back. The bindings were tight, cutting into her skin. But she knew better then to panic.

"Sorry about this," said the third man, standing in front of her. Y/N had just about enough time to study his face, his dark eyes, the moles on his face, his round cheeks ans pillowy lips. His hair, which parted down the middle, soft and fluffy and shiny.

She shrugged her shoulders and he placed the bag over her head.

There was no point fighting them as they walked her to the van, she'd seen their guns the moment they'd jumped out of the van. The two that had tied her hands sat behind her as the pretty one, the one who had placed the bag over her head climbed into the driver's seat.

He always drove, no matter the job. It was what he loved, what he was good at, what kept him calm.

The drive wasn't very long. Or, it hadn't seemed long to the captive, who was trying her best to keep time using the songs playing on the radio. They weren't out of the city, or, they weren't very far outside of it.

"Oh, turn this one up," she said, her words muffled, and the driver did just that, twisting the knob attached to the radio to turn up the volume.

Before too long the driver killed the engine and the sliding door to the van was thrown open. Y/N was dragged to her feet, one man holding each arm, and walked forward. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only indicator that she had walked into a building was the stale air, the buzz of the lights overhead and the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. These were the sorts of things you had to learn to survive.

She went into a room, her feet hitting the metal threshold strip that sat between rooms, and was sat in a chair.

The bindings were pulled from her hands and the bag from her head. She blinked quickly, the light flooding into her eyes all too bright.

But then she looked around, looking at the art on the walls surrounding her, at the table in front of her, at the man on the other side of that table.

She knew who she was in an instant, her heart pounding in her chest. His hair was a dirty blonde, combed back out of his face, and the beginnings of a beard surrounded his mouth. His eyes were a little far apart, but it didn't look bad on him. No, he was a very handsome man. Dangerous and terrifying, but handsome.

"You stole from me." That was the first thing his said.

Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from going wide. Him. She wasn't supposed to steal from him. The one rule she had for this job was don't steal from him. If she had known the car belonged to him, she would have run in the other direction. But it was too late now.

"I'm impressed. Nobody has ever had the balls to steal from me before. What makes you different?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "

Y/N went to push her chair back, but a hand, covered in rings, settled on her shoulder and squeezed. She didn't dare turn to see who was behind her. "I swear, I didn't know it was you're car."

"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. "As soon as the car was on the move, we watched you. That was a pretty good drive, until you fucked up."

Verstappen sat up a little straighter. He sat back and waited, waited for her to say something.

Truth be told, Y/N was a little lost for words. What was he playing at? Did he know who she was?

Suddenly, Verstappen stood up. He signalled for her to stand up and the person behind her pulled her to her feet and pushed her after his boss.

They took her through the halls of a house, with the same amount of pretty art. Verstappen didn't so much as glance at the art as they walked past, and she had a feeling that it wasn't his taste. The man behind her kept his ringed hand on her shoulder as he steered her after Verstappen.

They walked her into a garage and stopped her in the doorway. "Okay," said Verstappen, gesturing to the plethora of cars in front of him. They were all gorgeous cars, better than anything Y/N had ever stolen before. Super cars, classic cars, Verstappen had them all.

"Show me what you got."

TAGLIST (OPEN): @biancathecool @graciewrote

[raekensluver]

rekindled bonds (2)

introduction, part one, part two,

description: you and spencer are paired together for a hotel stay but theres only one bed...

pairing: spencer reid x bau agent!fem!reader

contains: talks of typical criminal minds violence, fluff, one bed trope

song rec: lovers rock by TV girl- "you like a pretty boy, with a pretty voice."

w.c: 2.3k

an: one more part to go! i'm a sucker for the cliche what can i say?

months had passed since your first harrowing case, and over time, the bond between you and spencer had grown stronger. the late nights at the office, poring over case files and bouncing ideas off each other, had turned into a routine that felt as natural as breathing. outside of work, you'd discovered shared interests, from obscure documentaries to a mutual love for a quiet cup of tea.

spencer had become your confidant, someone who knew the real you, not just the tough exterior you presented to the world. he had a way of peeling back the layers with his soft-spoken wit and disarming smile. it was in those moments, when you were both exhausted from the weight of the job, that you found the most comfort in his company.

his quirks had grown on you—his endless supply of facts, his meticulous organization, and the way he'd chew on the end of his pen when he was deep in thought. it was in those quiet moments, surrounded by the chaos of an ongoing case, that you realized how much you'd missed having someone who truly knew you.

you remembered the summers spent at his mother's house, the two of you running wild through the neighbourhood, coming up with imaginative games that lasted for hours. the way his eyes would light up when you'd introduce a new twist to a story, or how you'd sit for what felt like an eternity, trying to solve the puzzles he'd pull out from under his bed. those memories were like a warm blanket, a reminder of simpler times when the biggest challenge was keeping up with his boundless intellect.

now, standing in the lobby of a hotel late at night, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as you both looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the plush, overly patterned couches. the scent of stale coffee and a faint hint of cleaning solution filled the air, a stark contrast to the excitement of the outside world. the team had just returned from a long day of interviews and surveillance, and the weariness was etched on each of their faces. spencer leaned against the reception desk, his tie loose, and his shirt slightly wrinkled from the day's exertions.

the lobby was mostly empty, save for a few bleary-eyed travelers checking in or out, and the occasional yawn from the night clerk. the silence was only broken by the muffled sounds of the television in the corner, broadcasting the latest news story about the case that had consumed you all for weeks. it was a grim reminder of the gravity of the situation, of the lives hanging in the balance of your investigations. yet, amidst the somber atmosphere, spencer's eyes found yours, and for a brief moment, you shared a look that spoke volumes without saying a word.

prentiss looked around at the team, a hint of exhaustion in her voice. "alright, everyone. we're all booked into the same floor. try to get some rest tonight. we've got an early start tomorrow." the team nodded in unison, dispersing to collect their keys from the desk. as you approached, the clerk looked up, a friendly smile on his face. "you two together?" he asked, holding out a single keycard with a flourish.

spencer opened his mouth to correct him, but you were too tired to bother. "yes," you said with a yawn. his eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. the clerk handed over the card, not noticing the unspoken tension. "you're in room 314. have a good night."

you both turned towards the elevator, the echo of your footsteps the only sound in the deserted hallway. "you know, spencer," you began as you stepped inside the small metal box, "i hope you're okay with this." you nodded towards the card in your hand. "i just sort of…assumed."

spencer's cheeks flushed slightly, and he shrugged. "it's fine, really," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "i mean, we've known each other for years. it's not like we haven't shared a room before." but his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or doubt.

you couldn't help but smile, the warmth of his words spreading through you like a gentle embrace. "true," you agreed, "but it's been a long time since we've had a sleepover." you playfully nudged his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing the quiet, carpeted corridor of the third floor.

as you made your way down the hall, spencer glanced at the room numbers, counting under his breath. "just a few more," he murmured. the anticipation grew with each step, the weight of the day's events and the looming case pressing down on you like a thick, suffocating blanket. finally, you reached room 314.

you inserted the keycard, the lock clicking open with a sense of finality. as you pushed the door, it swung inward to reveal a modestly sized room with a king-sized bed dominating the space. a small living area, with a couch that looked suspiciously small, was neatly tucked into the corner. a small, round table held a coffeemaker and a couple of mugs, along with a few complimentary packets of instant coffee. the curtains were drawn, allowing the streetlights to cast a soft glow across the room.

spencer hovered in the doorway, his suitcase still in hand. "i can take the couch," he offered, his voice tentative. but the thought of him being uncomfortable on a makeshift bed was too much for you to bear after the long day you'd had.

you rolled your eyes playfully and padded over to him, taking the suitcase. "spencer, you're being ridiculous. we're both adults, and we can handle sharing a bed." you said, your tone firm but gentle. "plus, we have a big day tomorrow. we need our rest." you added, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth.

his eyes searched yours for a moment, looking for any hint of insincerity. but all he found was the same reassuring warmth that had been there since the day you'd met. with a sigh, he relented, allowing you to take the suitcase and set it by the bed. "thank you," he mumbled, his cheeks still flushed.

spencer began to unpack, laying out his clothes for the next day with meticulous care. you couldn't help but chuckle at his fastidiousness, a stark contrast to your own haphazard pile on the chair. as he folded his shirt with the precision of a seasoned military man, you moved to the bathroom to change into your pajamas. the sound of running water filled the small space as you washed your face and brushed your teeth, the coolness of the water a welcome reprieve from the day's tension.

as you emerged from the bathroom, spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, already changed into simple sweatpants and a t-shirt his glasses perched on the nightstand. with gentle, practiced movements, he removed his contact lenses, the brief look of vulnerability making him seem younger than his years. the way his eyes squinted slightly as he gently rubbed them clean brought back a flood of memories—his first pair of glasses, the way he'd squinted at the board in school, the excitement of discovering a new book that had kept him up all night.

you climbed into the bed, the softness enveloping you like a much-needed hug. the coolness of the sheets was a balm against your overheated skin, and you sighed in relief. "good night, spencer," you murmured, rolling onto your side to face the wall, away from the soft glow of the lamp sitting on spencers bedside table.

spencer slid in beside you, his movements careful and deliberate, as if trying not to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the room. "good night," he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. for a few moments, the only sound was the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet hum of the air conditioner, and the distant murmur of the city that never sleeps.

despite the exhaustion that tugged at the edges of your consciousness, your mind raced with the details of the case, piecing together the puzzle that had brought you to this unassuming hotel room. the weight of the gun at your side was a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just outside the door.

spencer seemed to sense your restlessness, he reached over and placed a comforting hand on your arm. his touch warm and grounding. "try to sleep," he said, his voice soothing. "we'll tackle it all in the morning." his eyes searched yours in the dim light, and you could see the genuine concern reflected in their depths.

his hand remained there for a moment longer before retreating, leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. you felt his eyes on you as you rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. the silence stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity as you both lay there, lost in your own thoughts.

you took a deep breath, breaking the quiet. "do you remember, spencer, when we were about ten years old, and we used to take those walks around the neighborhood?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "the ones where we'd stay out until the streetlights came on?"

his breath hitched, and you felt his eyes on you again. "yes," he replied, a soft smile in his voice. "we'd talk about everything. it was like our own little escape from the world."

you nodded, feeling his gaze still on you. "we'd make up stories about the people we'd see," you continued, your voice a little wistful. "like that old man with the three cats, we were convinced he was a retired secret agent."

spencer chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "i remember that. we'd spend hours planning how we'd infiltrate his house and find his secret lair." his voice grew softer, a hint of nostalgia painting his words. "you always had such a wild imagination."

you felt a smile tug at your lips. "yeah, and you were always the one who knew every possible escape route." you rolled onto your side to face him, propping your head up with your hand. "it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?" you mused. "now we're actually solving mysteries together."

spencer's eyes searched yours in the dim light, his smile mirroring yours. "it is," he agreed. "i never thought we'd end up here, but i'm grateful we did." his voice was soft, filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to charge the very air between you. "i've missed having someone to share all this with."

his words hung in the air, and you felt your heart swell with an emotion you hadn't expected. "me too," you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it. the warmth in his gaze grew, and for a moment, you forgot about the case, about the dangers that lurked just outside the hotel room door. you were just two old friends, sharing a bed in the quiet of the night.

spencer's hand found its way back to your arm, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin. the sensation was soothing, a gentle reminder that you weren't alone in this world, that you had someone who understood you in a way that few ever could. "we've come a long way, haven't we?" he said, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand seep into your very bones. "we have," you murmured, your eyes never leaving his. the room was still, the only sound the steady beating of your hearts, echoing in the quiet like a secret code that only the two of you could understand.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day finally begin to lift. "good night, spencer," you said, your voice softer than you'd intended. his eyes searched yours, a silent conversation passing between you, filled with unspoken truths and the comfort of old friendship.

spencer's hand paused on your arm, his thumb making lazy circles. "good night," he replied, his voice thick with something unidentifiable. you watched as he reached up to switch off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. the sudden absence of light made your heart skip a beat, and you could hear the rustle of fabric as he settled into the bed beside you.

you didn't know how much time had passed when you were jolted awake by the shrill ring of the alarm clock. the room was bathed in early morning light, and spencer's arm was draped over your waist, his body curled towards yours. it was a position that spoke of trust and familiarity, and for a moment, you couldn't remember where you were. but the weight of his hand on your hip brought everything rushing back—the case, the hotel, the gravity of the situation.

you gently nudged him awake, the warmth of his skin lingering even as he shifted away to silence the alarm. the room felt smaller somehow, the air charged with something new and unspoken. you both sat up, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and spencer looked over at you with a sheepish grin. "sorry," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "i didn't mean to…"

you waved off his apology with a laugh. "it's fine," you said, the sound bouncing off the walls. "i didn't exactly have nightmares with you as a human teddy bear." you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the coolness of the floor a jolt to your system. spencer's gaze followed your movements, his eyes lingering for a moment before he cleared his throat and stood, moving to the window to pull back the curtains.

the cityscape outside was bathed in a soft, early morning light, the buildings casting long shadows over the quiet streets. "we should get ready," he said, his voice still a little gruff from sleep. "we have a lot to do today."

taglist: @yokaimoon

edited: 8/30/24

[starsfic]

Erlang Shen is Supposed to Be on Vacation

S5 theory fic: Erlang Shen is supposed to be on vacation. However, in an hour, he learns that his uncle is dead, someone is trying to do another coup, and Sun Wukong has been filleted again. The people who deliver this news, including mass criminal Master Subodhi, the duo of Ao Lie's descendant and Iron Fan's son, and the creation goddess Nuwa, make things... difficult.

Erlang Shen was on vacation.

He honestly needed one after centuries of work, both doing whatever dirty work his uncle supposedly needed and the day-to-day running of his territory. The gods of fate had been merciful, creating a summer where Jian didn’t have anything important to do until autumn. Heaven could be handled by Li Nezha or any of the hundreds of other warriors (mostly by his student because he knew how the guards could be), the training of his personal guards and army could be handled by his head guards, and any paperwork could be handled by his staff. With all that, Jian found himself luxuriously stretching in his garden, soaking up the sun. Even Xiaotian Quan stretched out, making a happy little dog noise.

His private garden was his favorite place in his palace. Most of the plants grew naturally in the Sichuan province, but the air was sweet with the smell of blossoming Flower Fruit Mountain trees. The saplings had been a gift from Sun Wukong on his birthday, and Jian found no shame in enjoying the gift.

Hm…with the thought of Wukong floating around, Jian wondered if he could invite him over. Despite their rocky beginnings, Jian enjoyed the company of his sworn brother, both platonically and in a more romantic light. He had recently heard that Wukong had also taken up a student, so maybe they could talk about that?

The summer seemed full of possibilities. 

Right now, Jian just wanted to sunbathe.

So lost in his relaxation, he didn’t notice a magpie settle on the branches of one of the peach trees, staring down at him. Xiaotian raised his head, but the magpie fluttered away before the dog could notice anything. The large hound, after a quick scan around, settled back down into the grass.

The magpie poked its head out and, deciding it was safe, flew down from the branches.

“Ahem. Prince Erlang Shen.”

He shouldn’t have tempted the gods of fate.

Jian pushed up his sunglasses.

Silver robes and a long white beard met his eyes. If he didn’t recognize that distinctive style, the feeling of the old man’s power gave his identity away. “Master Subodhi,” Jian said, sitting up. “I thought I warned you to stay away from my property unless you wanted me to fulfill my promise of bringing you in.”

Was he risking his uncle’s ire by not fulfilling the bounty on the daoist’s head for gaining immortality in an illegal way? Yes. Did he care? Eh, not really. Wukong had racked up way more charges against him in his long life and he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of his uncle.

“Are you aware of the state of the world?”

The question came so out of left field that Erlang Shen blinked. “Uh…it’s summer?” he said, gesturing to the perfect summer day with big white fluffy clouds drifting carelessly in a blue sky. “It’s a nice day? My uncle isn’t calling to bother me?”

Subodhi raised a brow. “I can see why, considering he’s dead.”

There was a long pause.

“...excuse me?”

He…didn’t know how to process that. 

“Have you not seen the kid? Did you not see reality start to tear apart?”

Oh. That. “That happens sometimes, especially as my uncle gets older. He must’ve slipped up to have everyone see.” Erlang sighed. Honestly, the dramatics of old men. “If he died, someone would’ve told me-”

THWACK!

“OW!”

“Are you telling me that communication in Heaven has so broken down-”

“My lord!” Before Subodhi could finish his yelling or Erlang could grab and throw that stupid ruler far away, several guards marched in. “We have captured two trespassers. They insisted on talking to you.”

“YEAH!” A female voice called from the center of the huddle. “We have some questions for you.”

Erlang blinked. She sounded young and probably better than the gaping immortal, who for once looked surprised. “Allow them forward,” he called. “Let me see them.”

The guards stepped aside, revealing a girl in a green jacket- her features were familiar, although Jian couldn’t put his finger on why- and…hm. He had heard stories and seen pictures of Princess Iron Fan’s son, although he had never met him in person. He had the same dark eyes and noble bearing his former sworn sister had.

“What are you doing here?” Subodhi said, interrupting his thoughts with his baffled words. “Did you follow me?”

“Master Subodhi? What are you doing here?” the girl said. “You-”

Before she could finish, Red Son grabbed her and forced her to bow at the waist. “Remember what we talked about,” he hissed quietly to his companion. “Manners or we aren’t gonna get anything.”

“Yeah, but-”

He stomped on her foot. “Erlang Shen, Illustrious Sage and True Lord of Sichuan, we are Hong Ha-eir, son of the Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan, and Long Xiaojiao, descendant of Ao Jie-”

“Oh, that explains why you look familiar.” She looked strikingly like Ao Lie’s older sister…what had been her name again? Jian stood up with a sigh. “Rise, please, nephew.”

Red Son bristled at the address, but rose. Long Xiaojiao stepped forward. “Lord Erlang Shen, we came to plead for mercy for Sun Wukong, Liu’Er Mihou, and my best friend, Qi Xiaotian,” She got fully on her knees, pressing her forehead to the grass in a kowtow. “The charges leveled against them are false. None of them helped Azure Lion reach Heaven and kill the Jade Emperor. Any actions they did to help him were unwilling, done with manipulation-”

Several things stuck out at him. “Wait, what do you mean, kill the Jade Emperor?” Jian nodded to Subodhi, who’s shocked expression had been replaced by a strangely protective look. “He just told me my uncle died, but I have received no news about his death.”

“You…haven’t?” She rose up from her kowtow, looking confused. “But, you sent out a notice. He’s been dead for what, three weeks now?”

“A month,” Subodhi corrected. “I don’t know what you or your friends did. But it’s been over a month since the previous Jade Emperor was slain.”

“And two days since Heaven violated their agreement with me,” another female voice called. Jian felt himself stiffen, just in time for a hand to cup his face and lips to press against his cheek. “Shen, my dear.”

The pet name given by the goddess dressed in earthly tones only made his brow rise higher. While he had a few brief conversations with the ancient goddess at the few parties they both attended, she had never referred to him with fondness. Something was clearly up and Erlang Shen had a feeling he didn’t want to be part of it, but he would have to be.

“What brings you here, my lady?” he said, dipping into a deep bow. 

“Oh, I came here to help my son’s little friends and my son’s…master.” Nuwa’s pause on the last word felt mocking. Subodhi clearly noticed it as well, based on his snort. “I also came here for an explanation.”

Her smile was serene. Her aura was not. 

“An…explanation for what?”

“Wait, you’re Sun Wukong’s mother?”

“Wait, you’re XIAOTIAN’S MOTHER?!” Xiaotian raised his head at his name. “Sorry, puppy,” Long Xiaojiao cooed. “Not you.” The dog huffed and settled back down.

“It’s complicated and yes,” Nuwa said before turning to him. “And an explanation for the court’s recent actions. As you must be aware, when the Jade Emperor took the throne, he held up my agreement with his predecessors. Any issue with the stones of the universe must be handled by me directly.”

“...okay? Did something happen?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, based on Nuwa’s darkening face. Jian was tempted to deflect, considering he just received the news of his uncle’s…unfortunate passing. But that was the coward’s way out. 

Nuwa stared at him. Then she snapped her fingers. “Girl, dearest one,” she called. “Bring him the announcement.”

Xiaojiao and Red Son exchanged looks, but she stepped forward, pulling a scroll out of her pocket. “Li Jing gave us this after he put a filet on Sun Wukong’s head and sucked my best friend into his pagoda,” she reported as he took it.

Jian was too busy studying the scroll to hear the shocked gasps from both Subodhi and Nuwa. 

Well, that was his seal.

Jian opened it.

That wasn’t his handwriting.

He scanned it over, reading it quickly. It was all very formal, claiming that the royal family, including the Queen Mother of the West, who was slated to rule until the next emperor would be chosen according to his uncle’s will last he checked, would be taking time to grieve at the sudden loss. Li Jing was to be put in charge for the next few months, supported by the ten kings of the Diyu. Someone had even put the Gold Star of Venus’s seal at the bottom, signifying it as legit.

Jian raised a brow. “Did any of you see the Gold Star of Venus?” he asked the Long girl. She stared blankly at him. He sighed. “Either a goddess in yellow with a cockscomb hat or an older man, about…” He put his hand to about his chin. “Yay high or so?”

She and Red Son exchanged looks. “No,” she finally said. “I don’t think so. Honestly, the only celestials we saw during the trial were Li Jing and Nezha and the ten kings. And I honestly expected to see a few peach maidens.”

Huh? “Why?”

She paused, as if realizing she wasn’t supposed to say that. “No reason,” she lied. “But, to answer your question, no.”

Something was afoot. Jian was tempted to ask if they were just pulling a prank on him, but Subodhi hated his guts, Nuwa was clearly furious, and he barely knew the younger two. Pranks didn’t seem to be in their skillset. Something popped out.

“Did you say that Wukong has the filet?”

“Yes! At least a filet! Li Jing said he wouldn’t take it off unless we got all the universal stones together and fixed the universe.”

“Which you cannot do without my help,” Nuwa said, crossing her arms with a hiss. “There was no quest needed in the first place. The holders would hand them over to me without a problem. Several Heavenly servants saw you attack Azure to defend the Jade Emperor. Nezha’s testimony alone should be evidence.”

Another thought popped into his mind.

“Where was Nezha when this was happening?”

Silence met him. Faintly, the girl sucked air through her teeth. The boy coughed into his fist. He could practically hear the words rise and fall.

A soft hand once again pressed against his shoulder.

“You know where,” Nuwa whispered. She sounded like she was laughing, even if it was silent.

Jian did.

“It seems someone or several someones have lied,” Erlang Shen dropped the scroll- he hadn’t even realized he was crumpling it- and turned. He was met with anger, but not at him. Good. It would fuel them all. “Now, let me go get changed and call my aunt.”

His vacation was over.

[onlyangellucifer]

I LOVE YOU, ITS RUINING MY LIFE

PLOT:

It’s the biggest trial of the year and the whole world is watching. Stakes are higher and tension is higher. Little do they know, the prosecutor and defence attorney are in love.

OR

Harry is a popular defense attorney in London & Y/N is a popular prosecutor. Both are known for rarely losing & now they’ve found themselves in a pickle.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

WARNINGS:

Mentions of murder, blood, and the likes (nothing too graphic), smut (in the future), angst, fluff, etc. will add more if any others pop up!

AUTHORS NOTE:

Hello!! Ive been MIA, sorry. However, ive come bearing gifts! Below the cut is a sneak peak at this new short series (no more than 6 parts atm). Im working on the other series’ too, sorry for the delay. Hope you can forgive me. Anyways i hope u enjoy defense attorney!Harry 🫶🏼 the preview also isnt proof read, so excuse any typos. Meaning things WILL be changed / could be changed & moved around! Not sure of word count, but cant be more than 1500. Its short.

London hasnt seen a case this high profile since the case of Harold Shipman, who killed up to 250 victims. Many feared this may be another case of Jack The Ripper, as they double checked their doors at night, hoping the serial killer wasn’t going to show up at their door. The relief that washed over the town when the police had finally caught the man whom they think is responsible for the latest killings of 20 men and women. The scenes were too graphic to show on tv.

Y/N ended up with the case. The crime scene photos were unnerving to her and interviewing the victims families made it even worse. Bile creeping up throat as she read the horrific things that happened to each victim. She wanted to know this case by the back of her hand, because of course she was up against one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He rather lost and found plot holes in every single case, having a 97% success rate with getting his clients off the hook and their record clear. She thought noone would pick up the mans case, there was so much evidence that pointed towards the man.

Harry was attractive, tall, dark hair and those piercing greenish hazel eyes. Y/N was nervous and she hated being that way. Harry often came by the law firm, having connections with anyone and everyone. His career was unmatched, he was handsome, wealthy, the whole package. Yet he was single and that blew Y/N’s mind.

Harry was just as shocked as Y/N to learn they’d facing each other in court. He was certain his client did it, but, he had to defend him anyways. He was called by the court to do it pro bono, as noone else wanted to take the case. If he lost, his numbers would certainly be impacted. If he won, people may look at him differently in a moral sense. Surely though there was a plot hole and the prosecution would slip up. He couldnt believe it was Y/N who got the case. Soft, shy, gorgeous Y/N. He already developed this small crush on her and now he had to take her on in court? Surely this wasnt a good thing. It had to be God punishing him for helping criminals and making a good living while doing so. Harry always viewed her as the more submissive type and his dirty thoughts were hard to keep at bay. Maybe that was the reason God was punishing him.

While Harry laid awake, staring at the ceiling, Y/N was doing the same. Y/N had never seen Harry in action, but, she’s heard how he’s always been strict and concise in the court room. His dominant side coming out, and that scared Y/N. Especially because she imagined him being dominant somewhere else, mainly at night when she lay in bed alone with her thoughts and hands.

[lucozadehulahoop]

A Question of Time (Astarion x f!reader/tav) part 3/?

Chapter summary: Astarion makes his choice, but his actions don't go unnoticed. Call it divine intervention.

A.N: Big thank you for the massive love on this! I've only been posting this fic for three days and the response has been overwhelming! I appreciate every single comment and it really keeps me motivated. The tag list will be posted below the cut because it's getting a bit long ahh.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

warning for this chapter: seggsual sention (eh more just dorks being dorks)

part 1 part 2 part 4

"Astarion, favored soul, I send you my own flesh and blood to remove you from harm, yet you do not take your chance to flee..." An ethereal voice sang to Astarion as he tried to make sense of his own surroundings.

Slowly he began to recognize the cemetery, the tombstones, his own grave... how had he ended up back there?

The moon shined brightly down on him, and slowly the origin of that voice materialized itself right in front of him.

Astarion may have not been a believer, but he could recognize a goddess when he saw one. Much like in her many popular depictions, Sehanine wore what resembled a black silk gown, the very fabric that created the shadows she was a patron of. Her hair was black and white, her skin deep blue like the ocean, and her eyes the shape of twin moons. Many were the elves who worshiped 'the Moonweaver ' dutifully.

Sehanine was also the only diety criminals and tricksters seemed to cling to. A favor from the patron of illusions and misdirection could make the difference between the success or failure of a deed carried out under the cover of night.

But she was not only the goddess those who worked in secrecy and trickery often asked for a blessing from. Love was the biggest blessing tied to her name, and many cursed her for being the protector of lovers who steeled away for a tryst in the night.

"Do not be afraid, Pale One." She smiled at him eerily. "I appear to you now to give you guidance. I am sure by now you recognize me, even though on this plane I have come to be known to many as Selùne in these times, but you have been alive since the days of the old creed..."

"Y-yes--" Astarion stammered, never once having thought he'd be entertaining a conversation with a diety.

"I know you have not once believed in anything that was not material, and I am not here to test your faith, little vampire. I have been guiding your journey through this world ever since you began to display all of those qualities that are so dear to me... the Moon has been your close ally in all of your deeds..." The goddess proclaimed. "I look out for my own, but now... you go against my design to deliver you from your wretched master. Why is it so?"

It was quite a hefty amount of information to take in all at once. Not to mention preposterous. Guidance? Protection? If Astarion had been so favored by the gods, why in the seven hells had he been crushed underneath Cazador's heel for two hundred years?

The anger didn't take long to boil up inside of him. "No. No, forgive me, your holiness, but there has to be some kind of mistake here." Astarion sneered. "I think you've got the wrong Astarion, because this one has been attacked by the Gur, turned into a vampire, and subjected to two centuries of torture at the hands of a maniac!"

Sehanine smiled down at him once more, almost as if Astarion's lament was something to be amused by. "It is not up to me to explain the trials and tribulations of mortal life, dear one... If I directly interfered with the lives of every being I wished to influence in a constant manner, then other gods would want the same and war would surely break out amongst us. I would not come to you if I did not fear great peril on the horizon. Your Master, Cazador Szaar, has joined a league with dark, dangerous forces... forces that are enemies to myself and other entities that keep the balance between good and-"

Astarion scoffed. "I fail to see, how any of this is my concern."

The goddess's eyes became pitch black and her form started to warp into something far more sinister. "Count yourself lucky I consider your quick wit as a quality, but do not make the mistake of disrespecting me again, vampire spawn." She threatened in a booming voice. "You will be turned into a sacrificial lamb to your Master's ascension to near-godliness if you do not flee now, underneath my daughter's protection."

Astarion was silent for a very long while. In fact, he could not tell how much time had passed before she finally spoke again, her voice once again gentle.

"I will not have one of my own be involved in this abomination of a rite. In fact, I will make sure Tav stops this event from coming to pass so that she may meet her destiny."

Astarion couldn't stop himself from speaking his mind once again, even at the cost of being punished by the divine. "Meet her destiny? Surely... surely you must know how powerful Cazador is. I mean, I've seen what your darling daughter can do, but she doesn't seem to have a single mean bone in her body and you might risk losing her-"

"Tav must die for Cazador and the rest of the evil he's created to be eradicated for good." Was the goddess's simply put answer.

"But... she's your daughter." Astarion failed to understand until it finally clicked in his head. "You---you set her up like a lamb for slaughter. This is why she couldn't keep away from me? Because you made her come to my rescue every time? And now she's... Hells, she's getting rid of Cazador for you and dying in the process because you can't look bad in front of your god pals? What happened to looking out for your own?"

"I may have brought her into this world, but she is not one of my own." The Moonweaver clarified." Too sweet, too good-natured. The only thing I can truly recognize is her beauty. But no, I have not spoken to her, ever. I thought it best she did not know the pain of who she truly is, nor how she will meet her end. I simply know how and when it will come to pass. Yet, it was quite surprising to see how deeply attuned to your pain she is... and in the grand scheme of things it drew her like a moth to a flame, right into Cazador's grasp..."

Astarion began to feel violently ill, and he couldn't understand why. "Wait, what do you mean, what are you talking about---"

"Oh hush now, don't tell me you care for her? I would find that hard to believe..." She grinned, her very nature compelled to be intrigued by displays of affection, especially when they bloomed in the most unlikely of circumstances."However, I must go now, little vampling. But do not worry, Tav will be remembered, I will personally make sure to immortalize her in the stars for her valiant sacrifice."

"No!" Astarion cried out as he thrashed on the floor, suddenly regaining consciousness underneath Tav's tear-brimmed eyes.

She had been trying desperately to bring the pale elf back to consciousness after he'd dropped to the ground unexpectedly, his red eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body wracked by convulsions.

"Astarion!" She shook him a little more for good measure. "Astarion stay with me!" Tav let out a little sob, never having come across a physical ailment she hadn't been able to cure.

"Hells below..." Astarion cursed, slowly managing to sit up as he caught up with what had just happened.

Tav was quite a sight for a creature who hardly ever seemed to be affected by anything. Tear-stained cheeks, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. Astarion couldn't recall the last time someone had ever displayed worry over him. And now that he knew the truth about so many things, he didn't deem himself worthy of it. "Cheer up, sweet, I'm alright." He couldn't help but say, pinching her nose softly between his curled fingers.

"Alright?!" Tav barked at him, huffing and shooing his hand away. "You dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and then you started convulsing!" She accused as if Astarion had done so on purpose. "You were completely unresponsive for almost half of an hour! How often does this happen for you to think it's alright?"

Astarion could think of a million things to say. A close encounter with Tav's dear old mom being the explanation at the forefront of his mind. But the implications of that conversation having undeniably taken place (considering it hadn't been just some weird dream as he'd liked to have hoped) were too painful to consider. He should have been thinking about the fact that Cazador planned to sacrifice him. He should have been burning with rage at the mere thought of his death aiding his captor on the path to becoming god-like.

Instead, all he could do was laugh, enjoying the way it riled up Tav even more. "Like a what? Darling, I must say my likeliness has been compared to many things in my lifetime, but a sack of potatoes has certainly never made the list..."

"Oh well, then may I suggest that 'obtuse ass' also be included?" She retorted, getting in his face as she was completely unamused by the way he was belittling her concern.

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the shape of my backside?" Astarion tilted his head closer too, meaning to snap back at Tav, but instantly realizing his words had come out quite a bit softer than intended.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant..." Tav whispered, mimicking his tone as her pupils turned into the size of saucers.

"You're the one who brought it up..." Astarion shrugged, as he had a very private laugh within himself at Tav's expense. She was so gullible, he could have eaten her up.

"No! You have misunderstood me. Please, I apologize if I have made you feel--" Tav was in the middle of expressing a sincere apology when she realized Astarion could no longer contain the amusement he was having at her expense. "You are despicable!" She huffed, doing a poor attempt at shoving at his chest before getting herself back up on her feet.

Astarion chose to admire her a few seconds more from where he was sitting on the ground. "Now that, my darling... is something I've definitely been called before."

Tav crossed her arms over her chest as she adamantly checked on his capability to stand back up on his feet again. "How will you know it won't happen again?" She asked him seriously, referring to the episode that had just transpired.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'll get called 'despicable' again for days to come." Astarion attempted to avoid the question.

"I meant you fainting!" Tav insisted.

"I've... got a pretty good idea of what I need to do to stop it from happening again." Running away from this hellhole, and leaving you here none the wiser, so I don't get any more friendly reminders from your mother, Astarion thought to himself as he swallowed down a knot in his throat. He looked out the window and recognized the familiar hues of light. The day was coming and he wasn't going to be able to leave until it was over.

Astarion needed to get his affairs in order and rest. Staying simply wasn't an option.

Not to mention, he was practically starving.

His gaze began to linger extensively on Tav as she stared into the fireplace.

"You've been up all night, darling---" Astarion snapped out of his reverie and began to fret as he started closing all the window panes, making sure not a single ray of light would be able to break through. "Surely, surely it would be good for you to get some rest, no? In your room that is --- far, far away from me, I mean- I have tasks to do now. Servants are terribly, terribly busy people, you see---" He continued to ramble as he not so subtly nudged Tav out of his room, guiding her to the door. "I must get to my work-"

"But you are clearly unwell! You're the one who must rest, Astarion. You're even paler than usual-" Tav protested, turning into his arms to look up at him in defiance once more.

"May the gods help me -- no, actually let's leave them out of this -- must you stick your pretty little nose in everything I do? I can take care of myself and I'm not the helpless little critter you seem to think you've stumbled upon-" Astarion had intended on pushing Tav out of the room, but all he was doing in actuality was bringing her closer to his body.

"Well, you've certainly given me plenty of proof on that front haven't you?" Tav spat and twisted her hands in his worn-out shirt.

Just like that, they were back to arguing again, except this time it wasn't amusing for either of them.

"Proof? Is that what you want?" Astarion asked her, losing his last nerve to hunger and exhaustion.

The curtain fell, and Tav looked back into the face of a vampire.

---

A.N: hehe, oh how I like to tease you so. Okay real talk, this is now an ongoing fic. Truly, you guys have given me so much love, and I'm overwhelmed. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I thank you all for joining the ride. stay tuned for part 4!

This story is also on Ao3 btw, for the people who prefer reading it there.

tag list (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!): @d0nutkaky0in @i-just-want-to-sleep-97 @omggiannarosa @dead-giirl-walking @warbwarts @mrsfullbuster500 @uwomina @iyaesakura @cheeslyy @dragon-kazansky @bambamwolf87 @chibi-chi @orsomethingelseentirely @davenswitcher @adequate-superstar @ophelias-flowerss @tragedybunny @yaimlight @the-golden-ouroboros @candyladycry @babygirlbrainrot @mariposakitten @blobs-away @biganddrunkunicorn @astarionmisc @the-garbage-central @raviolixxx

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi!!! Huge fan and I hope you had a good day in your part of the world💗💗💗

I was just reading ur period comfort fic with jay and was absolutely inspired with this idea for an (unequivocally self-indulgent) new fic:

what if reader has intense pain on their period (like can’t stand, can barely move, everything hurts/aches etc.) and goes nonverbal when the pain gets too much BUTT reader and jay had an argument before he went on patrol and so reader feels like they can’t call him because he’s still mad at them so reader just sticks it out miserably by themselves. only until jay asks oracle to check on your vitals (because he’s a cute little worry wart and still cares a lot🥰) and sees that you’re heart rate and breath rates are wildly irregular and he rushes home (fuck batman he can finish the job himself HIS BABY IS #1) and sees you bundled up in the covers curled in a ball crying. comfort, apologies, and making up and caretaking ensues!!!

i’m so sorry if this makes no sense or it isn’t something you’re comfortable with (your comfort is #1 bestie)!!!! Also, feel free to modify in any way!!!

SENDING KISSES AND LOVE💅🏾❤️

It makes good sense!! I have no problem writing this ✨

I hope yours is going good as well! It’s a very under weather day for me, so I apologize if this isn’t what you were expecting! ❤️

—

Time written - 1:27 a.m

Tags: Period. Slightly broody Jason. Special guest star menstruation crustacean.

Part 1 in reference

—

Being miserable chased you around like a damn disease today, doing lots of more harm than good.

The kind of pain that left you breathless. An agony so severe you find yourself apologizing to any God that listened, mentally screaming at your body to give you a damn break. It was a miracle how you managed to make it from the kitchen towards your bed, forgetting to get your charging phone from the couch.

Sure, you had your watch. Yes, you had a device nestled in your end table drawer used for emergency calls. Wayne-Tech, Batman related stuff.

You didn’t use it. Either you didn’t have the strength, or too hot-headed, you didn’t reach for a button.

You believed it wasn’t going to be as bad. The cramps you’d get about a week prior before you start weren’t as painful this time. This morning had such high hopes, such high promises for a good day.

It was too early to think too highly about it.

Your body believed it would be funny to fool you, forcing you into this pathetic, crippling state shortly around ten. Rarely would you start at night.

You would’ve thought the blame belonged to someone else, anyone else other than what you experienced now. It felt like your insides were being torn apart by devilish hands, nearly making you ponder the urge to scratch against your own abdomen.

The room was normally cool, but your body was terribly hot. A peculiar shiver brushing down your spine, your susceptible body curled up in a pitiful ball along the mattress.

The house was quiet and empty, save for your choked gasps as you son through this horrible pain. You craved comfort, more comfort than any warm blanket could provide.

The biggest comfort you quietly desired more than ever wasn’t here. It was a miracle that the front door still clung to it’s screwed up hinges after being recklessly slammed shut.

You two argued over cereal, over which take out to get from what restaurant, over celebrity crushes. His side eyes were as dangerous as his criminal bloodlust, but they were always done out of amusing intent.

This time was different. You couldn’t remember when it started, recalling when it ended was now a painfully dulled blur in the back of your head. The argument was nearly verbally severe, with enough yelling to rouse the worry of your neighbors. If they even cared.

No one really does in Gotham these days.

You lay in your pitiful slump in bed for what felt like hours. In your distress, you weren’t aware of your charging phone going off in the living room. Your screen bombarded with texts and still ringing phone calls.

One of Jason’s few reliefs he had was through a distasteful crook on patrols, as violence was a great distraction. On such a slow start, Red Hood was left stalking with his own thoughts, dealing with his temper all alone in the night’s silence.

Just because he was stubborn now, doesn’t mean that he didn’t have his moments of clarity once he caught a break. He sent you a reluctant, one worded sent text at first before rushing on. He couldn’t help but shake off this suspenseful feeling though, like a tense dissatisfaction on his tongue. Was it guilt? Was it shame?

Did he feel sorry for what he basically caused? Did he at least wanna attempt to own up to it?

After ten minutes, he sent another text. Again, he sends another after seven minutes, then another around three. You weren’t answering them at all, which was a little surprising. You believed you held a distasteful quirk about answering texts too fast, which was what Jason adored about you, responding to him in under five minutes. Or ten at most if you were busy.

It always let him know you were never bored of him.

This only made that suspenseful ball in his gut grow a little heavier, so he started to call.

After about three calls, still you didn’t answer. Now that hall grew hotter and hotter.

It makes the most obvious sense that you were still angry at him, but the least you could’ve done was pick up the phone and cussed him out before abruptly hanging up. Or at the very least send his calls to voicemail after a ring or two, but that wasn’t the case,

The longer he stared at his rumbling phone screen, the worse his anxiety began to grow. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The Bats had an auspicious way of knowing if him or anyone else didn’t keep up their patrol routine. Jason put off this thought many times, giving less of a fuck now as he rushed home.

“Where the hell is your phone??” Came his booming question once he enters the bedroom, noticeably breathing a bit heavy from his rushed pace.

Upon your failure to answer in your trembling state, cowering under your blankets, you hear his heavy boots quickly approach the side of the bed. Opening your teary eyes, you see two milky mask sockets staring you down, still clutching his own phone in hand.

Jason would’ve questioned you over how many times he’s had to call, over how many texts he sent. He could’ve, but he didn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice changed from roughly arrogant to gentle softness while pulling off his mask, relieving you of that annoying heavy breathing behind the barrier.

Because everything fucking hurts, asshole.

If you were still angry at him, it would’ve been a shouting match all over again. No, all that’s left now is physical and mental pain.

Without another word, he rummages through both your drawers looking for something. Cursing when he couldn’t find it, he turns towards the closet, reaching up ahead on the top shelves until he found what he was looking for.

He leaves the room, making your sensitive mind wonder if he had the gall to up and leave again. Especially knowing the debilitating state you were in.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The faint chime of the microwave echoed from the kitchen.

You wondered wrong.

Jason returns, pulling the blanket back just enough to expose your torso. Pulling up your shirt just enough, he proceeds to apply a warm, heavenly weighted plush stuffy along your tummy.

A chorus of euphoria washes of your tense body, your unknowingly clenched jaw finally relaxing. You whimper out in temporary relief at this beautiful sensation, the application of warmth promising a slow, eventual comfort that would easy your agonizing pain.

“When did you start?” He asks, but you don’t answer. More like you can’t, really.

“Can’t talk, huh?” His forehead slowly settles along your temple, exhaling through his nose. Pure blooded guilt mixed with cold hard sympathy in his system, making his heart beat heavily as he fully considers your pain.

“God, don’t pull an idiot move babe,” he murmurs against your cheek, his forehead settling along your head.

“That’s my job. You were right about that.”

You were stubborn, but not that hurtful towards the man you love. Unless he did something where it was really necessary.

Jason remained by your side until you were comfortable enough to sit up, never minding having to warm up the heating pad one more time. He doesn’t say much after his last words as he brings you a calorie rich snack and some pain medication, sitting idly by while opening a water bottle for you.

He gets you to a hot shower after the painkillers slowly prove they’re kicking in.

Fresh clothes were piled on the bathroom counter for you after the seething hot shower, consisting of one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts you didn’t care much for.

Dinner, or an incredibly early breakfast, was one of your favorite cup noodles. Quick, hot and easy, so you could take a strong sleep medication and rest this horrible night away.

Jason by now was unbearably silent, too silent. Occasionally, he asked if you were okay or if the cup was too hot to hold while you slurped your noodles. Red Hood became a quiet, doting dog, keeping behind you as you shuffle to bed, still dressed in his gear.

It was only after you were settled back into bed in your much better state did Jason decide to finally relax, comfortable enough to take off his gear.

You were left watching as he turned around, pulling off his taunt, black shirt he wore under all that armor nearly every night. A faint hiss pushes through his nose as the fabric tugs on his freshly bandaged gash, just shy from his right shoulder blade.

��I didn’t mean it,” you exhale, tears dribbling over the bridge of your nose. “You’re not stupid, Jason. I didn’t mean it.”

He still keeps quiet, his head slightly turning as he acknowledges the pain you were still in. He doesn’t blame you for your anger, it just makes him feel more stupid for being mad at you.

He kept getting hurt, and you always took care of him. Sometimes, he kept getting hurt too much. You couldn’t help getting more and more worried for his safety while he chooses to shrug off the pain.

Now here he stood, with a wounded shoulder, wounded pride and a trembling girl needing his support now more than ever.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did, sweetheart.” Jason sighs after crawling into bed beside you, making sure you remained ownership of all thick blankets.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispers, peering down at you with sympathetic eyes. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

Your heart nearly melts then and there, a lingering stress vanishing from your mind for now. That’s all you asked for out of the entire argument from earlier. You knew his job was dangerous, but all you asked out of him was to be more cautious about his surroundings, to not be as reckless.

You could only help bandage and kiss his wounds so much. You never minded, but him coming home with at least three harsh gashes from possibly infectious blades put a toll on your hormonal stability.

“That’s all I wanted,” you gently say in return, accompanied with a soft sniffle.

Jason smiles before scooting just a little closer, proceeding to hold you with his good arm. A content cloud of warmth invaded your area, keeping you feeling calm and satisfied as your tired eyes mindlessly trail along his silvery autopsy scar.

“You can forgive me later,” He muffles against your cheek, lacing your skin with various gentle kisses. “Get some sleep, Hood’s gotcha now.”

You close your eyes, hiding the dramatic roll that proceeded shortly after.

“Also,” he piques in his murmur, a hint of cheekiness invading his tone of voice. “Kinda know of other ways to help with the pain.”

“Jason.” You groan with a light grimace.

He smirks a bit, only growing from the faint crinkle in your eyes and refrained smile. Just the reaction he wanted.

—

Had to throw this in 🦀

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 12)

au masterlist

notes: short, but i’m tired and have a migraine so i apologize

y/ndevils00

liked by dawson1417, ehaula, and 273,528 others

y/ndevils00 HAPPY 1989 (TAYLOR’S VERSION) DAY!!! I HOPE YOU’RE ALL STREAMING IT AND LOVING THE VAULT TRACKS AS MUCH AS I AM!!!

AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, AN INSANELY HAPPY 22ND BIRTHDAY TO MY VERY BESTEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, MY PUPPY, MY SWEETHEART, MY BESTIE NUMBER 1, DAWSON! YOU’RE TAYLOR SWIFT AGE NOW!!

oh yeah, and happy Devils game day too, i guess.

lucifer’s favorite children won 5-4 against the water buffalo’s tonight!

we got 2 great goals in the first period from Holtzy (not pictured because he’s being punished for his comments on tuesday) and my sweet swedish fish, Jesper! they served tonight!

and in second period we got the first out of two goals from Haula hoop! his second goal coming in the third period! my favorite uncle also almost got a hatty, but his stick broke :( criminal! it’s okay, he got the hatty in my eyes AND in my heart, and that’s the only hatty that matters! 🫶

and finally, before we got to holla for Haula-back girl’s second, we got a goal from my amazing, one-of-a-kind, brilliantly spectacular, so babygirl, the guy who stayed up until 2am on a game night and spun me around the house while we listened to 1989 (TV), everyone’s favorite, JACKY!!! this goal brought him up to 18 points in 7 games, which is 9 less games than it took him last season! i’m so proud of you, babygirl! you’re a star and you’re shining your light!

p.s. connor clifton, i am under your bed. seriously, i know where you live.

tagged dawson1417, jackhughes, john.marino97, jesperbratt, and ehaula

Load more comments

jackhughes i love you, my beautiful girl ♥️ thank you for your praise and for being my biggest fan

y/ndevils00 oh? i love you too, sweet boy

jackhughes okay, good, now that that’s done, STOP THREATENING PEOPLE

y/ndevils00 YOU TRICKED ME INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY!

jackhughes i had to! you don’t listen to me!

y/ndevils00 :(

jackhughes yeah, i’m not nico, that doesn’t work on me

y/ndevils00 RATS!

ehaula i would like to get a real hatty

y/ndevils00 no! you get the hatty in my heart and you appreciate it!

ehaula i don’t wanna

y/ndevils00 you’re an ungrateful uncle

ehaula and you’re a bossy niece

y/ndevils00 I AM NOT! @/kristen.haula AUNT KRISTEN, TELL HIM I’M NOT!

kristen.haula she’s not!

ehaula i rest my case

user19 the last jack picture 🥹

y/ndevils00 that was the product of me yelling “SMILE FOR THE PICTURE, BABYGIRL!”

jackhughes i thought the picture would come out better

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes i can’t help it, your smile makes me shaky

jesperbratt i got a goal and i served!

y/ndevils00 you got a GREAT goal! i wanna carry you around with me everywhere, do you think nicole would allow it?

jesperbratt i’ll ask!

jesperbratt she says split custody, you can only have weekends

y/ndevils00 hmm i’ll agree to those terms

dawson1417 ITS MY DAY OF BIRTH! THANK YOU, BESTIE NUMBER 3!!

y/ndevils00 DID YOU LIKE YOUR CAKE OF YOUR FACE?!

dawson1417 I LOVED IT!! IT LOOKED JUST LIKE ME!

y/ndevils00 I KNEW IT! I KNEW I DID GOOD!

john.marino97 that cake looked nothing like you?

dawson1417 @/john.marino97 shhh be nice!

john.marino97 i mean, that cake looked just like you! y/n should go into art!

john.marino97 okay, say it, i’m mentally prepared, i can take it

y/ndevils00 you did so well! i’m proud of you and your assist!

john.marino97 wait what?

john.marino97 that’s not what i was expecting

y/ndevils00 i’m feeling nice, don’t push it!

john.marino97 if you’ll excuse me, i have a quick call to make

y/ndevils00 to who?

y/ndevils00 MARINARA, WHY AM I GETTING A CALL FROM *HIM*

john.marino97 i may have pre-tattled

nicohischier i’ll be fine, y/n. no need to threaten!

y/ndevils00 THAT WAS A DIRTY HIT?? ALL THE NEED TO THREATEN!

nicohischier i appreciate that you care for me and my wellbeing, but i’ll be okay

y/ndevils00 but he hurt my slut :( you’re being targeted

nicohischier i’m tough, i can take it

y/ndevils00 no, you aren’t! you cried at finding nemo! i need to wrap you in bubble wrap!

nicohischier HE COULDN’T FIND HIS DAD

user84 so what were john and dawson talking about?

y/ndevils00 HOW MUCH FUN WE’RE GONNA HAVE AT OUR ‘BEST FRIEND NUMBER 1 BIRTHDAY SLUMBER PARTY’!

john.marino97 game plays

dawson1417 candy!

user27 the world may never know

lhughes_06 i can’t believe you laid on the floor for the first picture

y/ndevils00 i think i have gum on my dress

y/ndevils00 at least i hope it’s gum

lhughes_06 burn that dress. just burn it.

y/ndevils00 but i love this dress :(

lhughes_06 jack will get you a new one

y/ndevils00 okay!

jackhughes wait what?

[hunterbunter3000]

Someone asks Sweetheart if there is anyone waiting for her at home, she responds “just my handsome man!”, none knowing she’s referring to her pet who being taken care of by relatives or friends back home.

Many hearts were broken and murder plots were made until she send them a picture of her “handsome man” while on leave 😂

STOP THEY WOULD ALL BE IN TEARS

They hear her say that, their world just s h a t t e r s

Ofc she would have a man waiting for her at home. She's absolutely gorgeous, who wouldn't bag that immediately?

They get so depressed, asking themselves if they still want to go after her still and be homewreckers or just accept the fact that she has a man and be good friends and support her relationship (and torture themselves)

(No shit tho, what if she DID have a boyfriend back at home? And the boyfie knew about her co workers trying to get her and he shows them who she belongs to? And what if the bf was a well known criminal MAYBE???? And they all fight for her in different ways? Sweetheart boyfriend!au? SHOULD I MAKE THAT HAPPEENNNN???? THE ANGST THAT WOULD COME OUT OF THAT WOULD BE PHENOMENAL)

Krueger straight up wants to murder him, but König slapped him silly and said no (Ghost and Roach were about to join, why you do that König?😢)

And then they hear it again when she was taking a break from sparring with her friend-- "I miss my handsome boy... Miss his little kisses so much!"

Are you... fucking serious right now

QUIT RUBBING IT IN PLEASE

They do NOT want to see another man kissing her. I feel like Roach would have the biggest imagination out of all of them and just daydreams constantly, and he can just see a man kissing her neck slowly. Going up to the shell of her ear and going back down to her shoulder, feeling her shivers and goosebumps along the way. My god he hates it.

So many fake laughs and smiles when she mentions h i m (it's a very taboo word around the boys) and oh g o d what would they say to Alejandro and Rudy? They would be devastated completely (ITS A HUGE MESS)

And then Sweetheart had the GALL- THE ABSOLUTE AUDACITY TO SAY "Wanna see a picture of him?"

WHAT

Ghost broke his pen and Price almost swallowed his cigar. Soap put on the bravest face he can muster and said "sUrE!" With his teeth almost breaking. She's glowing as she pulls up pictures on her over decorated phone. "See? Look at him~!"

(Now don't they all feel stupid)

"It's a dog?!" Soap yells out. Sweetheart giggles. "Mhm! My big boy (insert silly dog name here), my handsome man! This was when he caught and maimed the skunk in the backyard. Took two weeks to clean the stink off of him!" She laughs like it's such a good memory, even when the picture shows a huge St. Bernard sitting happily with his tongue out covered in blood (with said Skunk laying on the ground in front of him with no head)

Yk they all felt the tension inside of them go away instantly. "It was a dog... a cute one at that." Alex says as he looks at more pictures of her dog. "Yeah! Uh-- what did yall think I was talking about?" Sweetheart asks. The men look everywhere else but at her. Why are they acting weird? Wait... oh my God.

"Did you think I was talking 'bout a boyfriend?" Sweetheart asks, eyebrow cocked with amusement. Stutters, mumbles and incoherent words play out of them

"What!? Nooooo no no of course not!"

"That's-- that's absolute crazy talk."

"No... Maybe... Ugh, Yes."

"I didn't even- I don't even pay attention to you, like what?"

She just laughs at them, her laughter putting them at ease. Now that THAT is taken care of, they ask her questions about her "handsome man".

"She has a whole folder of him... how cute." König coos, looking at the pictures with Alex. He sees one where it's a selfie; Sweetheart smushed up against her dog with big bright smiles. König and Alex look at each other before sending it to the both of them.

But Ghost still can't shake that feeling...

Does she really have a boyfriend and isn't telling us? (SWEETHEART BOYFRIEND!AU WHO??? WHEN??? WHERE LMAO)

[corrodedcoughin]

It’s a Friday night and Steve is fresh out of the shower, cheeks pinked with the steam and hair still damp. I’m days gone by he’d be starting the hair styling ritual to get it sitting just right but that’s not his biggest priority anymore.

Don’t get him wrong, he still parts it the way he wants, runs some product through it after squeezing out the water with a tshirt (no towel will ever be scrubbing his head, thank you very much) but after that he’s done. He puts on a comfy pair of sweats and a tshirt that has been worn into softness and sighs at the feeling of the material on his skin.

Steve still enjoys a party every now and then but that isn’t what he lives for anymore, no he lives for the ease that nights like these give him. He walks through the living room bare feet stepping over hard, cold floors and eventually finding worn down carpet.

‘Thought you fell down the plug hole and found a new family amongst the fish’ Eddie looks up at him from his seat on the floor, a small smile curling his lip and scar.

There’s a completely empty and available couch right above him but, as always, he’s curled up with his back against the couch and his foot underneath him, Steve can almost hear the complaints of a dead leg and demands to be lifted to bed already. He almost calls eddie out but thinks better of it.

‘Yeah, well, thought I’d try the mermaid thing out, might get one of those shell bras out of it’ he sits down on the couch, you know, like a reasonable person. He tilts into Eddie’s space, and watches over his shoulder as he delicately paints one of his mini figures. Steve braces his leg to support the weight of Eddie as he leans back into him, both of them finding comfort in the other person’s body being close.

Eddie hums, ‘I dunno if they got one big enough for your tits man. And anyway, I don’t think we should cover one of the eight wonders of the world’ it could sound like a come on or a way to start some jokey argument but Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss to Steve’s knee to show there’s no heat behind it.

Before Steve can answer back Eddie carries on ‘you want to do anything tomorrow? With your day off I mean? I was going to plan something but didn’t want to presume when you only get so many free weekends and I-‘

Steve doesn’t let him finish. ‘No. No, this is good. No plans is good. With you. I mean- Yeah, no plans with you sounds really good’ Steve bends down, pressing a kiss just to the side of Eddie’s scar and feels his mouth quirk up, knowing that if his hands weren’t busy he’d be pulling his hair infront of his face. The room is softly lit with only the table lamp and tv on for the light and the sun newly set. It’s all adds together to make Eddie glow and Steve’s heart aches for him.

Eddie brings the middle back up to his eye line before muttering ‘Love you Steve.’

It’s gentle and quiet but said with so much warmth Steve feels like he’s burning up from the inside, like somebody lit a match and is trying to smoke him out from his own body. The intensity never dimmed from the first time they said it and Steve’s hoping it never will. He leans back into the couch and give his attention to the tv, Mangum P.I reprimanding some criminal, and let’s the ease and familiarity wash over him. Doesn’t let himself question how he got to be here, how he got to have this. Just grateful for the fact that it’s real.

‘Love you too Eds’

[stackslip]

your post about fma03 are good and i'm stuck thinking about scar for hours at a time again. stories talking about 'revenge' can read really bad to me because a lot use 'this oppressed minority trying to fight state violence is bad' plotline. fma03 was honestly pretty unique in that scar was this tragic hero instead. it's sad, it's clearly difficult for him and he see him struggle, but everything he does was also necessary to prevent further genocide.

YEAH, it's a trope i absolutely loathe and scar in the og manga is its poster boy and everyone and their mom loves to pretend it's super progressive or something lol. there are aspects to scar's manga character i wish i could have enjoyed more were he not constantly scolded by half the cast for being an Evil Murderer when the war criminals' redemption arcs are assumed to be done by now and they're good people we should all root for. bc like. i genuinely LIKE the idea of scar's brother's other arm being about reconstruction. i LIKE the concept of scar holding destruction and rebuilding at once, and being able to one day move on and participate in the rebuilding of ishbal! but it comes with the idea that he is wrong for wanting to destroy amestris's military and the people who've murdered his people in the first place, it comes with him calling himself scum for being a Bad Murderer, it comes with the only other major talking ishbalan character BEING A MEMBER OF AMESTRIS'S MILITARY, UNDER THE COMMAND OF A WOMAN WHO CURSES HER BROTHER OUT FOR NOT HAVING JOINED IN THE GENOCIDE, basically scolding scar in turn for daring to want revenge. lol. i likewise would like the thing between him and mei a lot better if it didn't feel like it didn't play in tropes of "this big brown scary man is actually sweet bc this cute pale skinned girl makes him Soft" which.... i'm not fond of. i like mei and his relationship to her a lot, I Do Not Like The Framing. i do not like what arakawa does with scar in the manga, and this will always, ALWAYS be my biggest contention with fma, my line in the sand that i refuse to back down. so many things i can chalk up to taste, but i'm never not going to argue that scar's treatment in the og manga is absolutely abysmal.

in comparison, the way 03 reframes scar from his very first appearance as someone a lot more vulnerable/human and understandable, how his violence is put into context for what amestris has done to him and how al and him have this direct connection and mutual understanding, down to al flat out saying "if someone killed my brother i'd probably want to burn down the world too".... it's just. really good all around. scar's arc does not revolve around the elrics' plot, but when he does encounter them it's not so ed can scold him for being a murderer--because scar can and does bite back ed for participating in the military in the first place. his encounter with lust, the dynamic between him, his brother and his brother's love and how all three of them have been denied even their very names and identity in the aftermath of the genocide..... unbelievably bleak. how lust and scar likewise are trying to reclaim an identity as specifically Ishbalan in different ways too! lust by remembering what she was made from, going against dante and realizing what has been taken away from her, dying while proclaiming I WAS A WOMAN FROM ISHBAL. and then you have scar, who refuses his past name because he died with his brother and he died with the old ishbal. amestris murdered him along his people. there's no coming back from this. and like.... it's tragic, because it means scar is doomed from the start. he sees himself as a ghost and he is unable to not be one. but he also *chooses* to do something of it. to not simply pursue revenge but to actively stop amestris's military from repeating the genocide in liore! he is STILL enacting violence, he is using ishbal's own old alchemy and usurping amestris's claims so he can turn their own weapon back on them. ishbal was murdered for amestris's principles, and likewise scar is going to destroy as much of the amestrian military as he can in the name of not only avenging ishbal but stopping it from ever happening again! and his plan works. it works, and it's tragic, but also triumphant. it's tragic because scar was a good man.

that's the difference between the treatment of scar in og fma and 03. in the former, scar is the one character who has to Grow Into A Good Person, because it is assumed that no good person should use violence even to defend their people and avenge genocide. because violence is the prerogative of the protagonists, and because it is easy to remove the "bad people" from the premise--you can just excise them as a tumour, and then amestris is no longer a fascist and genocidal hell state. never mind that a sympathetic character (one often touted as a feminist icon ffs) is actively defending her choice to participate in the genocide to the end and derides another for NOT participating in it, but apparently she's fine! but scar has to Learn To Forgive and becoming a good person means settling down and things will magically improve. and scar has to learn this from the elrics, even as they talk down to him and see him in a very negative light, because apparently the two blonde protagonists understand violence better than a survivor of genocide does.

in 03, scar is a good person. or at the very least, he's entirely justified. and he might not be right 100% of the time, but he is from the beginning considered to understand a lot more of the world than the elrics are! he is a tragic hero because he died long ago, and there was no other path for him. and he isn't.... wrong. it's been shown in 03 that ishbalan survivors literally get hunted and displaced wherever they go. they can't rebuild, as long as amestris is as it is! you can't just spout platitudes about how violence is bad, because even if you give up violence it will show up at your door and burn your refugee camp and the only way to counter is meeting it with violence yourself. where ed sacrifices himself at the end for his brother in another tragic hero ending, scar sacrifices himself for not only the memory of his brother but for all of ishbal AND liore to be able to live. and he's right! he's destabilized the military enough that when roy makes his choice and kills bradley, the military has been crippled and is forced to take a step back, and amestris is suddenly on the defensive and no longer able to take on offensive wars. ishbalans and liorites are shown rebuilding in peace, as amestrian soldiers are no longer able to attack them. scar's sacrifice worked. he took on the identity of old ishbal's avenging ghost, and he pushed it to the end. he finally accepted his brother's love and sacrifice, and sacrificed himself in turn--like the elrics do! his last words are words of love. they're tender. in the moment that he kills hundreds of amestrian soldiers, music swells. yes, it's tragic. fma 03 isn't saying that justified violence is all glory and roses, it's still painful--the soldiers' death isn't a fun happy time, but.... they were coming in to murder thousands of liorites, possibly rape some of them like they did rose. their lives, 03 says again and again, are *not* more important than the lives of marginalized people. they've made their choice. violence here was the right call, it was an act of love, and it is framed as such. scar's final act is mirrored by the final act of the protagonists, there too an act of love. scar in 03 is so much more humanized and respected a character than he is in the manga, and regardless of 03's other failings or differences in taste, i will argue that his story in 03 is more relevant and real as ever today as it was during the political context of 2003-04

[skiiyoomin]

ʚEasy ┊Satoru Fucking Gojo (the series)

previous chapter

⤑Listen to the following songs while reading : Who´s That Chick? - Rihanna; Long Way 2 Go - Cassie (follow the playlist)

Parties, the peak of the university experience. The cramped spaces reeking of alcohol and drugs. The bodies grinding against each other. The music so loud it's deafening. So much so that you have to scream over it until your throat is sore. Satoru Gojo can proudly say it's his thing. His place. He can't resist a good party. Like the one he's currently in.

The start of classes after summer vacation means parties to welcome new students lucky enough to wander into the University of Tokyo. New students like yourself. Gojo has to admit he´s especially thrilled to attend this party. Because it's his first party as a second year he tells himself. Not because you - the pretty foreign student - are going to be there, definitely not because of that. 

“Satoru!” He snaps out of his thoughts. Suguru, his closest friend, calls him over. “Hey man” He smirks, dabbing him up. “Come join us” Suguru leads him to a corner where his friends are standing with the best view of the dancefloor. Perfect. Just the spot for him to pick his fun for the night.

He slings his arm around Sugurus' shoulder. “You see anyone yet?” Suguru chuckles, jutting his chin in someone's direction, your direction. “Pretty girl has everyone at this party hooked. Can't blame them, she´s got moves” True to his word, you are giving it your all. The sway of your body in sync with the rhythm of the music can only be described as sinfully sensual. You´re feeling yourself, and everyone can tell, warranting many wanting gazes. There´s nothing more attractive than confidence, and you´re brimming with it.

Out of his own will, Gojo´s mouth goes dry. Whatever drink is in his cup feels like a thousand needles when he pours it down his throat. The swing of your hips is downright criminal. He's never seen someone move the way you do. With such grace and allure, you put sirens to shame. He's no better than a pirate, willing to dive into your waters with the drop of a hat.

But he's not the only one. The blinding lights are shining down on you and everyone else is nothing but mere spectators waiting for the opportunity to get a taste, to be close to you. Idiots. He thinks. Unlike every fool in this cramped room, Satoru Gojo does not wait for an opportunity to present itself. If he wants something, he takes it. He doesn't ask, he demands. And right now, he wants you. Seems like he found his fun faster than expected.

He smirks. You´re going to be so easy. He´ll flatter you, and make you feel like you´re on top of the world. Only, after he has some fun with you, he´ll leave. It´s a vicious cycle that earned him his name as the universities biggest playboy. He doesn't regret it.

His sly grin widens when you step out off the dance floor and head to the backyard. Well, this keeps getting easier and easier. “Hold this for me” He mutters, handing Suguru his cup without looking away from your retreating figure. 

The air is fresh when he steps into the backyard, the chilly breeze snipping at his overheated skin. The porch is empty, aside from you, and now him. Easy. The wooden floor creaks under his polished trainers. You snap your head in the direction of the sound, startled by the eerie noise. You´re not sure if you should be relieved when you recognize the sudden presence of Satoru Gojo. The hungry look in his gaze is unmistakable. You´ve seen it enough times to recognize it. It does nothing to soothe the unsettling feeling swirling at the pit of your stomach. Or is it the alcohol? You´re not too sure anymore. 

“Having a good time?” He steps closer, close enough that you can catch whiffs of his cologne when the breeze sweeps by. “I am” His eyes flick up and down, unashamedly checking you out. He flashes his famous charming smile “I could tell. You had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand” The smirk on your lips is mischievous, it's knowing. “It's safe to say I got your attention too didn´t I?” You know the effect you have. He has to admit, your boldness impresses him. A chuckle slips past his lips “Guilty as charged. It's hard not to when you're dancing like that” Ah. It's obvious where he was leading things. You'd be damned if you let him get to you that easily. He's an idiot if he thinks so otherwise. 

“You´re quite conceited if you seriously believe I´m here to entertain you” Out of his own will, his eyes widen for a split second. No one ever stood up against him. No one ever dared to. His icy blue eyes narrowed as fast as they widened, almost making it seem like his surprise was a hallucination. The smile on his lips is sickeningly sweet, a bad combination with the cold glare. That´s no good. “Oh, come on. You can drop the act. I know you´re eating this up”

You bark out a laughter of disbelief and mild amusement. Just how conceited is this guy? “Don´t get ahead of yourself. You´re not the first to try your luck” You really are a match for him. He´s not sure if he likes that. “I'm sure I'm not. But I can guarantee you, sweetheart, I´m the best you´ll ever see” The temptation to roll your eyes was nearly painful. But somehow you manage to control it.

“Don't put yourself on such a high pedestal” Huffing in surprise, his upper lip curls into a scowl “Aren't you a treat?” Got him. “I´m sorry if I ruined your plans, but you´re a fool if you think I'm falling for your trap so easily” The sweetness in your voice is fake, he knows it. The grin taunting him, waving his fail in his face. When was the last time a girl rejected him?

He doesn't like it. Doesn´t like you, but damn if you aren't a temptation. He watches you head back inside, the image of your hips swaying as you walk away replaying in his mind. “Fuck” This was not going to be so easy. Though he´s not determined for nothing, he never gives up, especially when he wants something. Satoru Gojo does not back down from a challenge. And you're the biggest challenge he may face.

tag list ੈ✩‧₊˚ @chilichopsticks, @pnkoo

[scarasbaefy]

seasons

chars; childe/tartaglia

; fem reader, angst to comfort

note; this is for my bff emoly who has been waiting for this since the dawn of time !!!! shes the biggest childe lover in the world. THIS ONES FOR U EMO !

; not proof-read, reqs open, join the taglist

Ⰶ  

childes life was falling apart. being a harbinger was no easy task. being a part of the FBI would be an easier task than being a criminal. at least you didn’t have to lie to your family and lover about your job.

the cold air nipped childes nose, but he didn’t mind it. he loves the cold temperature of his homeland. he was too busy thinking of other things than the way his nose tingled, or the way his hands were shivering from the lack of warmth. he dreaded to get home, where you and his siblings would be waiting for his arrival. he had already finalized his decision though.

he had to let you go.

you and teucer were playing with one of his toy horses in the living room when the sound of the front door unlocking took your attention. teucer, already knowing who it was, made his way to the door and jumped on the mans leg.

“brother! oh big brother, i missed you so much! did you bring me anything?” the young boys eagerness made you laugh to yourself as you stood up from your position on the floor. you gave childe a loving smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. childe immediately felt his heart drop when your lips connected, causing him to not reciprocate. 

he pulled away and gave you a small smile filled with guilt. you knew something was wrong, but masked your worry since teucer was looking up at you two. teucer loved you and childe as a couple, always asking when you would get married so you three could live together forever. 

“i did get you something, teucer. i’ll give it to you in a minute. i need to talk to y/n first though. it’s very important, but i promise i’ll give you your gift afterwards.” childe pat his brothers head, causing teucer to cover his giggle with his hands. “oh.. i see.. i’ll give you all the time you need, but call me when you’re ready!” the boy said before running off with a smile on his face.

childe held your hand as he walked you to a room nearby. “is something wrong?” you asked after he closed the door, leaving the two of you. he didn’t say anything as he stood with head head against the door, afraid to turn around and face you. the silence only made your stomach turn. after a few seconds he held your hands, all while avoiding eye contact. “i can’t be your love anymore...” he whispered, as if he was hoping you wouldn’t understand what he had just said.

you dropped your hands from his and cupped his cheek. “what do you mean? why are you saying this... what happened?” childe turned his head away from your hand to hide the tears threatening to fall. he immediately regretted saying anything. he loves you more than anything in this world, and if he had met you before joining the fauti then he wouldn’t have ever joined in order to protect your safety. 

“i’m afraid. i don’t want to ruin your life by having me as your boyfriend. i’m like a bad omen and i don’t want anything bad happening to you. i’d rather let you go than see you get hurt because of me... or worse.” he said as the tears began to roll down his cheeks, but you were quick to wipe them away. you made him look at you, tears also flowing down your own cheeks. his heart broke at the sight, knowing his words were the cause of your pain.

“don’t you dare ever say that again. we have been together for many years now and nothing has happened to me, all thanks to you. i love you so much, and i’m not letting you leave me. not now, not ever.” the stern look on your face made childe shiver. he knew you had a point, and if he were to let you go now, all his enemies would use you against him since he wouldn’t be there to protect you.

childe let out a sigh of relief before nuzzling into the hand holding his cheek. he felt a wave of relief that you didn’t agree with him or left him. he was happy you had made a point, and that you would say such kind words to a man like him. you actually made an effort to stay with him even though he thought it was best if he wasn’t in your life. he looked at you, a tired smile on his face. “i’m so stupid. i regretted my words after they came out. i never want to leave you. i now realize that having you by my side is the safest place you could be, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. i love you.” he kissed your forehead, then your nose. “i love you so much.” your cheek, then your lips. 

you took childes hand and walked him out the room. “we can continue talking later. you have a child who’s waiting for his gift.”

taglist; @exciidi @ulquiorraswife

[marytunno]

-read below-

DEEPER THAN SWORDS

It was easy to be scared on the road, it was easy being scared when having to be just an orphan boy, it was easy being scared when hot tears burned Arya’s face each night at the thought of her father. She had fought her fear when the other orphan boys had tried to take her sword, Needle was hers, it wasn’t fair the way they said it was stolen, Jon wasn’t a thief and Needle was all she had left of him. Arya did want to hurt badly the baker boy but it had been easy to lash all her anger at him, even when Yoren had punished her for it, even when she had to walk on foot it had been easier than parting from her Needle.

At night the red light of the comet was shining bright among the other stars, Gendry polished his elm and looked at it as if it held the answers to the thousand thoughts haunting his mind. It looked like a sword, like the swords he had seen at his master’s shop, like the one he could have made one day… now he wasn’t going to make swords anymore he thought, he was going to fight with the sword Yoren had given him, he was going to fight at the wall and protect the people from whatever was waiting for him up there.

They were the only party walking north, crossing paths with all kinds of people, people going south running from war. Yoren had told Arya and the other recruits they had nothing to fear, they had no banner but the black cloak he wore, they were no lions nor wolves, the law protected their journey but Arya didn't feel safe, she was a wolf and she could hear them howl loud at night, a warning or maybe a battle cry.

They had been together when the guards arrived, the Bull had made Arya promise not to cry if he hurt her while practising, he had told her he was strong but she knew she was faster so she had made him promise too. It felt weird when Yoren and the other men took a stance in front of the white cloaks, they were protecting her, they were going to die for her. Arya bit her lip and tightened her grip on her sword, she could not let that happen. If Arya had been a real water dancer like Syrio, she would have fought all the guards, if Arya had been a wolf she wouldn't have been scared.

When Arry, sword in hand, went against the white cloaks Gendry cursed him in his mind, even if for some reason the guards had been after the young boy he owed nothing to the other recruits, Arry should have been more careful, Gendry should have been more careful too but instead, he followed the small boy and then the guards called his name. 

It had been different after Yoren had threatened the guards, they kept marching north, this time avoiding the Kingsroad, feeling like prey running from starved hounds, Yoren had told Arya to fear not the animals but only the men wearing beasts on their banners so they kept marching but with the whole world burning around them it was only a matter of time before it crumbled on them.

Gendry hated how everyone had felt like asking him questions as if he had any idea about why the queen of all people wanted him dead, he had done nothing wrong, he had nothing to hide. It felt odd, surrounded by thieves and killers and all sorts of criminals, being the one the guards had been looking for. Arry had thought they had been after him. Gendry's mind was full of thoughts as they searched for some sort of supplies in an abandoned village, the sunlight reflecting on the surface of the biggest lake he had ever seen. He didn’t really trust the other recruits, Yoren had said they were to be brothers but they had made no oath yet and the Wall was so far away, he had heard some of them, Kurz and CutJack and others, talking about leaving, about the others being dead weight, he agreed but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to survive on his own. He looked at Arry splashing some water on his head, he was useful enough and better than him at hunting, he seemed brave and smart even if he was small, maybe they could have made it together, protected each other on the road, he could learn to trust someone like Arry, even if he was sure he was hiding a secret.

Arya hated herself, if only she had been a real fighter she could have protected the other recruits, the little crying girl, Gendry, even Hot Pie and Lommy… She wished to be like Yoren, like Syrio had been, like her father but, instead, she was nothing, non even Arya anymore… She hadn’t been able to protect Mycah and Nymeria and her father… now she screamed “Winterfell”! as everything burned… the air in her lungs tasting of smoke and copper… her tears boiling on her cheeks as she kept fighting. Yoren told them to run, for a moment she had been scared Gendry would have stayed there like the stubborn bull he was, she did not want to leave him behind, she wasn’t going to leave anyone behind. 

After what had felt like a war, hell itself, death and then hunger while dragging around all the dead weights left, he had caught up pretty easily on Arry’s secret.  It didn’t change much for him, Arry, or whatever was her girl name, was still the only useful one, the only one that wasn’t crying about wolves or eating dirt, he wanted to tell her he knew, that her secret was safe with him, that he wasn’t going to hurt her or let anyone hurt her. Being the oldest he should have felt some kind of weight on him, an unspoken duty to protect Hot Pie, Lommy and his useless leg and little Weasel, a real man would have wanted to defend them... well, most men he had met up until that moment had tried to kill them or abandoned them… he should have cared about his companions but, honestly, he only cared about his own skin, his helm and maybe Arry.

The only thing Arya could feel more than fear was her hate, her anger… looking at Polliver with Needle at his hip, it almost hurt not having her blade at her side, its familiar weight, another part of her ripped away. She hated herself as she watched the people around her be tortured and killed, she wasn’t a wolf, she felt more like a sheep, a scared sheep marching toward the slaughterhouse. She hated having to look at Dunsen wearing Gendry’s helm, it had been his as Needle had been hers, what else could they take from them? Their lives didn’t seem enough. "Fear cuts deeper than swords" had said once Syrio and now Arya knew fear better than ever in her life, fear keeping her from talking back to the guards, fear to help the older girls, save them from the soldiers, fear to just die and never see her home again… and as they approached Harrenal a new fear: wondering if in those halls stained with blood and burned by fire something far worse was waiting for them.

Again my deepest fear is to wander astray from the prompts haahah, I tried to focus on Arya and Gendry's possessions as they were on the road up until when they lost them to the mountain's men...

Not my best work but I wanted to post this anyway, hope you liked it <3<3

[ac-liveblogs]

Munchen Bastard vs Manshine City: The Finale

This panel is inexplicably hilarious to me. Isagi reflects so calmly on that batshit match like he and Kaiser were being completely normal and reasonable. That was an average match. Nothing to see or comment on there.

Is it still a technical foul if the one you're assaulting is on your own team? Anyway.

...god, I want to see what Blue Lock TV has to say about that one. You know it's wild when Nagi and Reo go full uh... Nagi and Reo, and they're still not the biggest trainwreck ('most interesting') of a duo on the field.

Ego talking about Nagi's goal as a one-hit wonder is interesting, because I think he's right that Nagi will never be able to replicate it. Nagi could barely keep that same energy going for the match he was already in, let alone another one. Nagi, whose only real faults read as 'just less experienced than everyone else', seems to finally be getting a real flaw he'll have to work on - motivation. Which is interesting, right, given his motivation is supposed to be getting the world cup with Reo - but that's not a big enough driver to keep him really going? Episode Nagi's reframing of events seems mildly contradictory in that way. Guess we'll see how it goes.

Suddenly, Yukimiya. You know a guy is screwed when he starts saying shit like "god never gives you more than you can handle!" He can pretend he's gonna be a player all he wants, I don't think he's coming back in any major capacity.

Oh yeah, speaking of Isagi blasting past people regardless of their sad backstories, Sae is inevitably going to be Isagi's midfielder later, right? Because screw Rin, right? That's awesome, I can't wait.

I don't know much about soccer, but as a 'playmaker' who is very good at strategic passing, would Isagi be better off as a midfielder like Sae? Is that a criminal thing to say. I'm sorry. Isagi's just really bad at actually scoring goals lately. Maybe he should refocus. Since he apparently thinks he doesn't need any special moves to get one over on Kaiser, he might want to build the skillset he definitely already has. (amazed at Isagi's hyper-confident bullshit).

Kaiser just like. Ruined a goal. For his own teammate. Is that legal? Should it be illegal? Obviously this shit can only happen in Blue Lock but is it REALLY something sponsors are gonna like like. 'oh yeah that's a good team player that guy he'll work really well in a team', REALLY?

I guess teams only seem to consist of like max. four relevant people at any one time so what does it matter... the author only sometimes remembers Chigiri and Kunigami are around... particularly insulting for Kunigami all things considered.

Actually, it'd be so cool if Kira reappears after Wild Card as a final joker card boss or something. I'd love that. Please do that. I'll be sad if that doesn't happen now.

Just once, I want to see these jackasses go up against a really competent goalie. I want Kaiser Impact stopped dead. Just once. Please.

For real though, it does make their soccer feel pretty 'incomplete' that other players like that aren't really accounted for. These guys don't feel like they're training to go up against really competent defense or anything. Maybe the author just doesn't think it exists. I don't know.

Backstory: I played soccer for two years in primary school, and the first year I was defense. Our forwards were so competent the ball very rarely came anywhere near us, so I didn't have to be good or anything. It's not like I could do much if it did. So my soccer experience is entirely consistent with Blue Lock, but that doesn't mean I have to like it! Why are these pro athletes on the same level as me at age 10!

Ness is so funny. I want to see his Kaiser stan account's deranged blogging of the entire Blue Lock experience.

I love that Isagi thought so hard he passed out. "Metavision" is so funny.

One, why is Noa's bedroom some sci-fi alien ship. Two, why was Isagi taken THERE when he passed out. Did Ego just like. Not fund an infirmary? Is that where Blue Lock cut costs? I'd buy it.

Noa's just watching his team burn with a completely impassive face. Man he does not give a SHIT, I bet he's loving Kaiser getting assaulted by some random high schooler.

The idea that Ego ever actually played soccer is bonkers to me. Like, it makes perfect sense. But I don't buy it. Seeing that guy in soccer shorts will actually make my brain melt out my ears.

But of course Blue Lock, designed to attract/produce guys that are not even remotely normal about each other, was founded by a guy that is also not normal about another dude. Phenomenal stuff.

Bastard Munchen's sponsors watching Isagi and Kaiser brutalise each other on the field like "yeah we want that all the time actually"

I expected Shidou to rank much higher given his U-20 showing. How is he so much lower than Rin? Does Rin just knock him unconscious before every match?

If I were told I had the same worth as Ness I think I'd kill myself.

LET'S GO BAROUUUUUU