#THAT ARC HAD AND STILL HAS SUCH A HOLD ON ME

[asneakyfox]

so let's talk about david jenkins saying the idea was that the crew would dump ed overboard in the mutiny before the writers changed their minds and had him kept in the hold.

he says they changed this for pacing reasons, so that the reunion could happen in 2x03 instead of being delayed longer, and i cannot argue with that, waiting any longer sounds excruciating. so i'm not complaining about this as, like, villainous interference from the WBD suits or anything, although it might be a decision forced by cutting the number of episodes. probably still the right call under the circumstances. BUT i'm interested in it because this explains a couple things that are weird about the plot structure of the whole season as it stands.

so first of all the crew throwing the body overboard just immediately makes a lot more sense because it doesn't actually require them to have failed to notice he wasn't dead. it would be pretty tough to carry the body into the hold and lay him out and cover his face with a lil washcloth and everything and not notice at any point during this that he's still breathing or that he has a pulse. and if they did notice you'd think they'd either finish the job quickly or try to treat him if they'd had a change of heart, not leave him to die slow. however the idea that they would beat him till he stopped moving then immediately chuck the body overboard, that totally makes sense, you wouldn't stop to check if he was already dead or not because one way or another he will be pretty shortly after you dump him in the ocean.

second the line from stede to izzy about "you were the one who kept his body onboard" always bugged me because it feels like it's meant to establish something about izzy but it's really unclear WHAT it tells us about him, in a way that doesn't seem like intentional ambiguity: i've seen people interpret it as a sign of his devotion and i've seen others assume it was a practical decision that the crew should keep ed's body around to claim the bounty on blackbeard. (and i've seen both interpretations from people both in and out of the canyon, so it's not even a normal izcourse divide.) i actually wondered at one point if the purpose was to foreshadow where izzy's arc is going to end by establishing that he thinks it's more respectful to bury a pirate on land than at sea, although if that was the idea it sure didn't work on the people who'd care most.

however this new info from djenks explains it pretty neatly, which is that the reason for the line isn't to establish character stuff about izzy at all it's just there to awkwardly patch a plothole. it's that someone in the writers' room was like "but it doesn't make any sense, why WOULDN'T they dump his body overboard once they'd killed him" and somebody else was like "idk uh maybe we can put in a line about how izzy stopped them or something."

now more interestingly! this also would change something bigger about 2x04. because i'm guessing the idea here would be that ed would have actually for real washed up on an island that looks just like the one in the gravy basket and just never actually gotten up off the beach, and stede would find him there, mermaid scene, and ed would wake up mad and storm off into the woods with where he meets mary read with stede already trying to follow him and the rest of the episode proceeds as normal from there. (and probably buttons would be just, like, hanging around following stede, or maybe he was already acting as a psychopomp and led stede to ed's body, idk, lots of possible ways to play that.)

this means you completely lose the beat of the crew voting ed off the ship. you wouldn't lose the idea of the crew being pissed at him; you could still have the kitty collar onesie probation stuff after he got back. but this is a BIG change.

first of all it solves a big obvious problem LOTS of people pointed out immediately when the episode aired which is that it makes no sense that stede would just stay on the ship after letting ed be exiled. reuniting with ed has been his driving goal for months and it's not even like ed has definitively told him to fuck off, he's just stomping off angry and incoherent and not even clearly in his right mind. but they couldn't let stede actually follow ed on his own initiative immediately, because it would undermine the later fisherman breakup if stede has already established that he's willing to leave his pirate career behind if that's what it takes to be with ed. so you end up with this awkward beat where he's just kind of passively standing there until buttons tells him what to do.

i think there's something even more important it does though! one criticism a LOT of people had about s2 was feeling like the crew all hated ed now and there was no clear sign they'd forgiven him by the end, and also some people had the impression that stede had just overriden the crew's decision (even though he does say he's going to ask their permission; it DOES feel weird we don't see that). now i've said before that i think there was probably going to be a reconciliation between ed & lucius, and by extension the crew as a whole, in the lupete wedding verision of 2x06, and i still think that. but regardless of whether i'm right or wrong about that. even without a reconciliation, this would seem like WAY less of a problem if the crew hadn't voted ed of the ship.

as it is, we have THREE scenes devoted to the idea that the crew as a whole (not just lucius & izzy, who both have more complicated individual relationships with ed) are uncomfortable with ed's presence on the ship - there's the initial one where stede's holding the meat on his face where they're all yelling at him, and then there's the actual walk of shame where they've just voted him off, and THEN there's the youtube apology scene where they're heckling him and stuff. and having three separate scenes like that makes it feel like the narrative is really hammering in this idea of a big dramatic rupture in the whole crew's relationship with ed. but only the last of those scenes was originally supposed to be there! the first two were just thrown into the plot to justify why ed ends up wandering around an island to run into anne & mary! if you only had the youtube apology scene, it would be much more clear that most of the crew weren't really all that mad - as it is, roach and jim explicitly saying they aren't mad feels like it's overshadowed by the weight of the earlier scenes.

(also a minor issue, but i've mentioned before that surprisingly often people think the vote was unanimous. this doesn't actually make sense in terms of the episode, because we know it was deadlocked and izzy cast the tiebreaker. but it is sort of weird, if the idea is that the crew is split on this, that we never get any sign of who voted which way; there's nobody but stede who is clearly presented as specifically not wanting ed to be exiled. which DOES end up making it feel like it's the crew as a unanimous block that wants him off the ship. but that makes sense if the whole concept of the crew wanting him exiled was sort of hastily written to patch a plot hole instead of being a fully developed idea.)

anyway. like i said i can't really complain about this as a pacing decision. but it is really interesting to me how many knock-on problems with the whole arc of the season were created by the change, and how much cleaner the original idea sounds like it would have been.

[nanamincreampie]

The CEO’s Hidden Flower: Part 2 (part 1)

The offices of Sukuna Enterprises thrived on efficiency, precision, and intimidation. Every employee knew their place, their role, and above all else, the iron-fisted authority of their CEO, Ryomen Sukuna.

No one slacked off. No one dared to waste time.

But today?

Work had come to a complete standstill.

It started the moment she walked through the glass doors again, the woman who had sent shockwaves through the company just months ago, stunning everyone with her warm demeanor, effortless beauty, and most shocking of all her identity as Sukuna’s wife.

But this time, she wasn’t alone.

“Hi again!” she greeted cheerfully, shifting the soft pink baby sling around her shoulders, adjusting the tiny bundle nestled against her chest. “I’m just dropping off my husband’s lunch. He forgot it this morning.”

The receptionist, who had barely survived the Great Muffin Incident of two months ago, nearly fell out of her chair.

“H-Hold on… wait… You already—? You had the baby!?”

She laughed, gently swaying on her feet as if soothing the sleeping infant. “I sure did! Two months ago, actually. She’s been keeping us very busy.”

The woman’s voice, warm and honey-sweet, carried through the office like a breeze, drawing attention immediately.

Heads turned.

People whispered.

The employees who had witnessed her first visit froze at their desks, their jaws going slack as they registered the tiny baby strapped securely against her.

One of the junior associates nearly dropped his coffee.

“Wait. Wait. Wait. That’s— That’s his—? He’s actually a dad?!”

“Holy shit, I thought we were still in the pregnancy arc!”

“I thought we had time!”

“She just—just casually walked in here with his baby like it’s nothing—”

More and more people abandoned their work, curiosity outweighing their fear of their terrifying boss. They inched closer, whispering in disbelief.

Finally, someone from HR, probably the most fearless among them stepped forward hesitantly.

“Oh my God… She’s already here?”

The new mother beamed and adjusted the baby sling, brushing a delicate hand over her daughter’s back. “Mhmm. She came a little early, but she’s happy and healthy.”

A woman from the finance department gasped dramatically. “So that’s why Sukuna took a leave of absence! I thought he was handling some shady underground business deal or something!”

Sukuna’s wife chuckled. “No shady deals this time. He was home with me and our baby.”

The entire floor processed that information at once.

Sukuna. Their Sukuna. The ruthless, cutthroat businessman. The terror of the corporate world.

Had taken paternity leave.

People were struggling.

One of the interns, a nervous young man, cleared his throat, staring at the sleeping infant in absolute awe. “U-Um… Would it be okay if we… got a peek at her?”

“Of course! Just be quiet. She’s sleeping,” she whispered as she carefully pulled back the fabric of the sling.

The moment they saw her, a wave of soft gasps filled the space.

The baby, tiny, peaceful, her little fists curled against her mother’s chest—had a full head of soft, rosy-pink hair.

Just like him.

“Yup. That’s his kid,” someone whispered in awe.

“She has his hair. Oh my God.”

“I— I never thought I’d say this, but I think I want to see Sukuna holding a baby now.”

The receptionist clutched her heart. “She’s so precious. What’s her name?”

The new mother smiled, running a finger over her daughter’s tiny fingers. “Her name is d/n.”

The group collectively melted.

“d/n,” one whispered, as if testing it out. “It suits her. It’s… delicate.”

“Unlike her father,” someone snorted.

The growing crowd around her had become so engrossed in the moment that they failed to notice a hazardous presence approaching.

“Why the hell is nobody working?”

The deep, thunderous voice sent chills through the air.

Like a spell had been broken, people scattered, employees darted back to their desks, some fumbled with their papers, and others tried to act like they hadn’t just been seconds away from cooing over a baby.

But his wife?

She simply brightened at the sight of him.

“Ryo!” she chirped happily, lifting the lunch bag in her hand. “I brought your food! You forgot it this morning.”

Sukuna’s sharp crimson eyes flickered to the bag, then back to her. His gaze softened, just a fraction, as he took in the sight of his wife holding their daughter.

A long sigh left him as he dragged a hand through his hair.

“Flower, you really shouldn’t be carrying her around like this. You just had her.”

She pouted, adjusting d/n's sling. “I’m fine! Besides, I wanted to get out of the house for a bit.”

“You could’ve sent a driver.”

She huffed, placing a hand on her hip. “And miss the chance to see you?”

He narrowed his eyes, but the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

One of the braver employees coughed awkwardly. “Um, congratulations… sir?”

Sukuna barely spared him a glance. “Took you all long enough to figure it out.”

The employees collectively held their breath as their boss turned his attention back to his wife.

Then, in a move that should have been impossible, Sukuna, the merciless CEO, the demon of the corporate world, leaned down and kissed her forehead.

The office shattered.

Someone nearly fainted.

Another grabbed onto the nearest desk for support.

A senior associate actually whispered, “No fucking way.”

If the first visit had been a shock, this was earth-shattering.

Sukuna, completely unfazed by the chaos, exhaled and ran a hand down his wife’s back. “Come on. Let’s go to my office.”

She giggled, letting him lead her away, but not before turning back to the stunned employees. “It was nice seeing you all again! I’ll bring cookies next time!”

And just like that, they were gone.

What followed could only be described as pandemonium.

“HE KISSED HER.”

“He called her Flower......again!”

“Did you see the way he looked at the baby?”

“This man is whipped. He’s actually in love.”

For the entire week, nothing else mattered in the office. The legend of Mrs. Sukuna had only grown more, cementing her place as the most fascinating, most talked-about mystery in the company’s history.

And Sukuna?

He didn’t bother addressing the rumors.

Because at the end of the day, there was only one thing he cared about, his wife, his daughter, and making sure they had everything they ever wanted.

Even if it meant tolerating the absolute chaos she left in her wake.

Tag list : @totallygyomeiswife @slushycoookie

[truelotus]

(Oooh first time requesting smtbhing so hopefully I'm doing this right ;-;)) But can I request Aizen kidnapping his darling using his evil evil hypnosis during the SS arc when everyone thinks he's a little sweetheart?

(Btw take ur time and no pressure 🤗)

Tricked out ᢉ𐭩 Sosuke Aizen X reader

𓂃۶ৎ warning: abduction, kidnapping, manipulating

𓂃۶ৎ context: Aizen unknowingly to you, uses his kyoka suigetsu to hypnotize you, manipulating you subtly.

a/n: I was finally able to do this request! tysm for it and thank you for giving me time to do it <3

Captain has always been very kind to you, after you joined his squad and you were able to become a seated officer, he took more interest in you. He’d come by, to see how well your training was going, help you with anything you needed. He even listened to the problems you had, he was definitely one of the most kindest captains.

But you couldn’t help but feel.. odd? around him.

It felt like it was too good to be true? or something? Nothing felt right of real once Aizen would come around, and even when he left you be. That strange feeling continued to linger, making you feel uneasy.

You’d often feel this feeling even at night, you could never get a peaceful good night sleep.

And tonight, once again you’ll feel that same exact uneasy feeling. But you knew, that you could never fully trust this man, there was something dangerous about him, but thats all you knew.

The air in the soul society felt unusually still tonight, tonight the feeling was much more pronounced than ever before. Maybe it was because of the odd things happening around maybe? Lately you felt like you’ve had more eyes on you than ever before.

But you would brush those feelings away as soon as Aizen would come, he distracted you from the feeling.

You were staring off into the night, listening closely to the droplets of the rain, only the rain could bring some peace to you. You were at your assigned room of squad 5’s barracks. You were up late, unable to sleep. You were so deep in thought, you didn’t notice that someone was coming towards you.

You jumped when feeling a hand touch your shoulder so casualty, you grabbed the hand quickly, then you quickly released it once you looked who the hand belonged to.

“Everything okay? I’ve noticed that you’ve been very tense recently.” You could see the genuine worry on his face, you straightened out the wrinkles of your clothes, trying to hide your embarrassment from your face.

“Captain Aizen! I’m so sorry, I was just.. anyways. Yes, I’m alright. Things have just been feeling like, a dream? lately. So i’ve been on my toes, that is all.”

It was strange on how he always showed up, it was like he planned on it.

Aizen hummed, putting his hand to his chin, as if he was deep in thought about something. “I see.. this seems like something that should be discussed over tea, would you like that?” Aizen replied, giving you a sweet smile that almost the whole seireitei is familiar with.

“A-Are you sure captain? I don’t want to prevent you from doing your work.” You were a bit hesitant, unsure about the situation. You only felt strange once your captain was around, would things go bad once you join him for tea? Or maybe Aizen was the key to solving this issue..

“Nonsense, It’s quite late anyways. What duties would I be doing at this hour?” He put his hand out to you, waiting for you to grab it, to join him. Still cautious, you accepted the hand that was out for you. Aizen’s smile slightly widened.

Strange.

Everything felt strange.

His hand didn’t feel like, his? There’s no way that this could be a impersonator of captain Aizen, right?

Aizen continued to hold your hand as he guided you to his room, even though his hand felt strange, unreal. There was some warmth to it, making you blush. Aizen’s hand was big compared to yours.

You cursed yourself for even blushing, you know very well that this man isn’t the man he projects himself to be. But it was strange, how come all of the sudden you were feeling actual romantic feelings towards him? It was as soon as you grabbed his hand, has he done something or?

Soon enough, the both of you made it to his room. He quietly shut the door behind you as you entered, “Please, make yourself comfortable. I will get the tea ready.”

“Yes captain.” You said as you sat down at the kotatsu. You felt awkward, you’ve never been in Aizen’s room before, alone. You were fidgeting with the ends of your clothes, messing with your hair, constantly changing the seating position you were in.

It didn’t take long for the tea to make, Aizen entered the room while carrying a tray with a kettle, tea cups and bags of tea.

He sat the tray down, then showing you a variety of the tea bags he had. “Here, I brought these out. I didn’t know which one you’d like.” You never really drank tea, so you then asked, “Which do you prefer? I don’t often drink tea so.” For a second, you could see the smile on his face twitch.

“Oh then, I suggest this one. It is my personal favorite.” You nodded, watching him pour the boiling water into your cup then as he brought the tea kettle to his cup, he spoke as he poured the water, “So, tell me. What is on your mind?”

You weren’t sure on what to say, you couldn’t trust this man.. or could you? Were you just overthinking things and making assumptions.

Yeah that should be it right? Captain Aizen would never do anything to you, he’s one of the nicest in the entire gotei 13. You could trust him, he is your captain after all.

This “thoughts” of yours were only implanted by Aizen. He then finished stirring the tea for you both, handing it to you.

“I can’t explain it, recently things have just been weird. I feel like I’m being watched 24/7.. And it really only happens when..”

“When I’m around?” He said as he brought the cup to his lips, you lowered your cup down slightly, surprised by his answer. Has all of this actually his own work?

You froze, unsure on what to do. Were you in danger right now? Should you run? What were his reasons for it?

You dropped your cup, ignoring the burning sensation, the boiling water was burning your thighs but you ignored it. “Ah, careful now.” His tone was smooth, he was so casual about this right now. Why?

He got up, walking over to you. He was going to soak up the tea on your thighs but instead you pushed him away.

“You want a explanation? Very well then.”

He flaunted his spiritual pressure, forcing you to stay down, to stay in place as he spoke, “Yes, I’m honestly very surprised you noticed. Most people don’t notice my perfect hypnosis.” You were confused on what he meant on, “perfect hypnosis”

You couldn’t move, even if you wanted to. His spiritual pressure was just too much for someone like you. You wanted to swat his hand away when you saw it getting closer to your face, he held onto your face, squishing your cheeks together with his hand.

“It only shows that you truly are something special.” You tried so desperately to move, but of course he wouldn’t allow it.

“Captain..”

“I knew that you’d be some use to me from the very start, this was just a test. To see if I was right, and it seems like.. I was correct.” He brought his face closer to yours, his lips dangerously hovering over your own lips.

“I noticed you from the very start, You noticed my kyoka suigetsu. That is what peaked my interest in you, nobody else was able to see it but you.” You weren’t aware of the powers of his zanpakuto, he never bothered to explain them to you.

“What do you.. mean.”

“Oh right, you do not know the power of my kyoka suigetsu.” He used less of his spiritual pressure to force you down, giving you a little break. “It is, complete hypnosis.. it is able to completely control all 5 senses, it’s a very interesting zanpakuto, don’t you think?”

You weren’t sure when exactly he used kyoka suigetsu on you, but you weren’t going to ask. You knew you had no time, you needed to run, to get away.

Even while he was flexing his spiritual pressure, you slowly stood up, using all your strength just to barely stand on your feet. Aizen smirked, seeing you try so hard, miserably.

“Seems like you don’t understand that you are very important for what I have planned.”

“You’re right.. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you chose me out of all people.” You slowly walked to the door, dragging your feet. Aizen only watched as you slowly walked away, knowing you were weren’t going to make it far.

“Because, you’re different. I’ve seen your abilities before darling, I believe that they’re going to be useful to me.” You reached to the door, ignoring him as you slowly opened it.

His spiritual pressure still had a affect, so running was hard for you, but you were going to run like your life depended on it.

“Fuck fuck fuck..” You were a sweaty mess, your thighs still burned from the boiling tea, your legs were weak and failing on you.

You tried to run as far as you could, and when you thought you lost him—because he wasn’t chasing after you— you rested for a bit.

How were you going to report him? Would anyone believe you? Would he just use his complete hypnosis on you again?

“I really don’t see the point of running, you knew very well that I was going to find you quickly.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, unable to move once again.

You slowly turned around to face him, he somehow looked bigger than before, only frightening you even more. “Please..! captain Aizen.” You begged him to stop.

“Come, you were destined to be by my side. You’ll soon see that is your only faith.” He stepped forward, making you feel smaller than ever. “And if you scream, I might just have to kill you. Or maybe punish you. But we don’t want that to happen do we?”

You oh so desperately wanted to fight back, but what would be the point of it? He was going to successfully kidnap you in the end.

He smirked down at you, seeing you so helpless did something to him. He swiftly grabbed your collar, pulling onto it.

“Please! Let go of me!”

“I don’t want to be rough with you, so please don’t make me.”

He dragged you by the collar of your shirt back to his room, to keep you.

All to himself.

To help him pursue his plan.

And you had no choice.

You were going to help him and that’s that.

[lurkerdemon]

We Have a Blob-lem - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Danny & Jason are around. Then a Blob crashes the party.

Content Warnings(?): Mild swearing, and Guns

Word Count: 1547

“Wow, you suck at this.” 

Another beam of green energy flashes through the air at the can Danny launched across the training area of the cave. The laser clips a top corner and sends the object spiraling into a wall as Jason flips him off with his free hand.

“You. Shut. And I’m still hitting them!”

Danny simply floats over to throw again. The next can gets hit right on the bottom as it makes its spiralling arc through the air. The resulting concussive force from the Fenton brand weapon launches it upward as it collides with the stone ceiling far above with a resounding aluminum clang. Danny gives a low whistle.

“Overcompensated the aim. Cool party trick though.”

“Ass.”

“And that’s why we’re friends!”

The slug Jason aims at Danny’s arm has no real force to it, but that still doesn’t prevent him from going intangible just to watch the larger man take a moment to regain his balance at the lack of resistance. Jason glares and Danny chuckles.

“I told you it’s different when you use lasers!”

“Danny, I know how to use more weapons than you ever will, dead or half-alive.”

“And I was told how to hold a Fenton blaster when I was seven. Plus I can to do this-”

Danny waved one hand as green energy enveloped four cans and then chucked them across the room. All he needed was one jump-suited finger as an ecto-beam shot out and blasted each can to a partially melted mush. They hit the floor with a dull, metallic thud while Danny took a bow.

“And now you’re the showoff.”

“Coming from the guy who just bragged about knowing how to ‘use more weapons’ than a ghost. Maybe you could do with the reminder to stay humble.”

Jason turned around to spare himself from seeing more of Danny’s smirk as he made his way back to the nearby table.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see how your aim is with something that has more kick to it then.”

He stopped halfway, body stock-still and tense. Danny frowned and floated down to take a look for himself.

“What? Cat got yourrrrrrrrrr - Oh. Oh no.”

Sat at the table where Jason had left his holsters for his favorite pistols was a familiar green blob, the soccer ball sized creature giving low growls as cartoonish pointed teeth gnawed on the grip. It jerked backward occasionally, slowly making progress before one final pull got the weapon free and onto the table. It continued chewing.

Jason broke free of the shock and pointed.

“What is that?”

“Umm. Damian’s new pet? Let me just-” Danny floated sloooowly closer, “Vee. Hey Vee! Good blob. Stay right there.”

“V?”

Danny stopped as the blob’s attention turned. 

“Short for ‘Eviscerate.’” He said in a low voice.

“The hell kind of name is that?”

“Look, you try telling Dami what to name his pet. It took me an hour just to talk him into a name that we could come up with a nickname for. Not many options for ‘Destroyer of Worlds.’”

“... Dee?”

“There are three potential D’s at this place already, I am not adding a fourth and getting confused with a blob ghost!”

Danny winced at the louder than intended exclamation, turning to the now growling Vee who was starting to drag the gun backward along the table. He glared at Jason.

“Oh please. I’ll do it.”

“No wait!”

Jason strode forward, closing the gap in a few steps, to which Vee responded by enveloping the gun whole in it’s body. He scowled and approached even faster.

“Give!”

Too late. The blob darted away from them just as Danny moved to cut off its exit further into the cave.

“Vee! Vee drop it!” 

Vee darts left. Danny dips left. 

Vee darts right. Danny dips right. 

Jason began to creep up from behind while the blob’s little eyes showed more smugness than Danny thought possible. The standoff lasts several seconds while Vee shimmies in place. All three of them tense at the same time.

What neither expect is for Vee to glow, Danny sensing ectoplasm concentrating on the gun as the blob deflates by a third of its size. He has enough wherewithal to put up an ectoshield in front of Jason just in case, only for Vee to take on the tell-tale transparency of intangibility and run through him instead. Gun and all.

Both look on in horror as it heads straight up the staircase leading back to the manor.

“Okay so, didn't know they could do that.” Danny says with a dumbfounded look.

“Never would have guessed. You owe me a new gun if it messed up my favorite.”

“Hey! I'm already letting you use the Fenton one!”

“Excellent point. You're letting me keep the new gun if it messed up my favorite.”

Danny narrows his eyes while Jason just raises an eyebrow in an unspoken ‘what’ya gonna do about it.’

“Fine. Just help me catch it before someone gets home.”

- - - - -

Danny was learning a few things right now.

1) It is really annoying to try and find a small pet in a manor with a lot of places to hide.

2) It's even more difficult when said pet doesn't have to adhere to the laws of physics.

3) Blob ghosts, while one of the most harmless ecto-entities, can apparently extend these ghostly rule bending properties to things with enough ectoplasm. (If the now ecto-coated gun in Vee was anything to go off.)

Danny never did enjoy the “learning on the fly” part of ghost stuff, and these weren't an exception.

He called out just as he turned into the main foyer and spotted Jason returning from the left wing.

“I think I got close before seeing Vee go your way. Any signs of them or Alfred Cat-worth?”

“Nothing. Cat’s in Damien's room though. Shut the door for now.”

“Alright, one less thing to worry about.”

“I told you already, the safety for the gun is on – oh yee of little faith.”

“Look with my luck I'm just trying to prepare for the worst. Now I can still pick up Vee on my ghost sense but it's going to be difficult to get the exact position. So I think-”

BANG.

“...”

“... Don't. Say. Anything. I know for a fact the safety was on.”

“.... Anything.”

Jason bit back a groan. 

- - - -

“Eassssy Vee. Everything’s fine.”

Danny really should have made Jason be the distraction. Trying to not look at him creeping up behind Vee again was killing him.

Vee just gave another growl, sounding a lot like a dog saying ‘No’ as it sunk slightly lower onto the guest bed. The blob was a bit smaller again, maybe the size of a handbag, so definitely used up more ecto doing whatever caused the gunshot. Which was fine. Danny was sure the guest bedroom could have used some art hangings anyway. He definitely didn't feel a cold sweat run down his back every time he looked at the wall next to him by the dresser.

This is fine.

“Okay. Okay. I'll stay right here. See. Nice and-”

Jason lunged and grabbed the blob. Vee gave a betrayed howl in return as he forcibly got a hand on the pistol. He refused to let go even as his hand filled with a chill and a pins-and-needles static raced across his nerves.

“Hey! Be careful with them!”

“I. Almost. Got it.”

With one final tug the gun came loose. He immediately checked for the safety (still on! Hah!) and shoved it to the side while his other arm held the angry chaos ball. 

Danny gave a sigh of relief. “Safe.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m still checking the gun over later and then you get to explain the hole in the wall.”

“Hey!”

Jason just grinned. Vee meanwhile continued to wriggle in the hold pinching it to his chest, small dot eyes looking up at him.

Then it bit his arm.

He looked down at it, blinking as confusion turned into a weird wave of cool indifference. Then he frowned even as the blob expanded in size.

“The fuck?”

The irritation quickly slid along that same wave, right before it crashed against the beginnings of something green in his vision. He wasn't Pit Mad, but it was definitely stirring up enough to make him consider punting the thing for whatever it was doing.

Danny stepped in just before that became a serious consideration, pulling the now beach ball sized blob away. Jason felt the wave of whatever that was die back down.

“Bad blob! Bad! You don't know where he's been!”

“Hey!”

Vee was gagging in Danny's arms like it just ate a lemon. It growled and grumbled, ectoplasm glowing again.

POP.

Then Danny is suddenly holding four blobs. Vee in normal ectoplasm green, two a light ghostly blue that reminds him of Box Ghost, and a fourth a dark verdant green that is currently gnawing on one of his fingers.

This time it was Danny’s turn to groan. “Sure. What's one more surprise today.”

“Congratulations, it's a blob.” Jason sneered.

“Hey these are technically yours! Now either you take them, or you’re helping me get them out of here before Damien-”

The door creaked.

“Before I what?”

= = = = = =

1) I debated what name Damien would give the blobs for a long while, and then simply decided to go based on Wayne Family Adventures and say he chose violence (literally) because I thought it was funny.

So now introducing:

Vee (aka Eviscerate aka the one and only Bat-Blob)

May (Maim)

Mu (Murder)

and Kay (Kill)

Imagine with me:

Criminal: *be doing a crime*

Robin: *descends from the shadows and points*

Robin: Kill

Criminal: *Screaming as they get a face full of angry (but harmless) green*

2) I debated specifying whether or not Jason & Danny got armor or something for approaching a potentially live gun and decided to just stop debating and get this posted.

That being said I feel I should say the obvious and take care with firearms. Giving the blob a gun was for the funny.

3) I do have plans for more parts, I am just slow and easily distracted.

[nottodayupstarts]

That's what I've been SAYING. the chozen-hawk duo could've been so good and yet. yet it remains so unexplored.

if their narrative parallels and mirrored character arcs don't convince you, then let me say that hawk would see chozen doing ONE (1) cool takedown and instantly start clinging to his arm like a puppy.

hawk asks him to demonstrate something he did earlier in class, and once chozen shows him he picks up on it in just a couple tries because hawk is hawk. and chozen's like "ah well, you are the champ for a reason." and hawk kinda shrugs it off, "oh I guess so. I don't really feel like it sometimes tho"

and they get to talking and chozen tells him about his past with Daniel. and hawk is blown away that this guy in front of him was ever anything like he himself was. and soon enough they start bonding and next thing you know hawk is staying after lessons each day to do one-on-one sparring with him. and chozen refines his offense and teaches him defense because god knows he internalizes "best defense is more offense." after all, he wins fights not by avoiding or blocking hits but by bulldozing past them, layering aggression on his opponent in the moment , willing himself not to feel the pain until the fight's over, and icing his wounds in the night.

hawk gets his ass kicked over and over again while he learns, but eventually he starts scoring more and more hits. until one day he and chozen are sparring, and he manages to deflect chozen's knife hand, grabbing his palm, and uses the opening to duck under his arm and twists behind his back, jabbing his ribs and pinning chozen in an s-arm, all in the matter of a couple seconds.

and it's just silent for a minute.

chozen's proud of his student, impressed by the way he used miyagi techniques in his own, hawk-like way he hadn't seen before. he knows how to get out of this hold but he doesn't see the need to, not when hawk has surprised him in a way he hasn't surprised like in a very long time.

but hawk?? he's internally freaking out, "I should not have done that." because his hands still hold the memory of just how much force it took to break Demetri's arm, just how much he twisted, hell the exact angle he had it at. and kreese? when he and kreese had sparred, kreese had been unforgiving. He never pulled his punches but he sure as hell had no trouble pulling out his knives. his words still echoed through his bones, "finish the fight"

and he knew chozen wasn't like that, that he's not going to put him in a situation like that, but for a minute he was back at the cobra kai dojo, staring at white words on a black wall.

and then reality comes back, he breathes and releases the arm he's been holding for too long. and he's shaky and upset, and he just sits down on the deck he engineered, lost and a little afraid chozen is going to be upset. but chozen just sits down next to him and has a deep heart to heart, assuring him.

"Healing is not linear. It takes time."

"But I don't need to heal! I was the one who hurt them."

"You hurt them because you were being hurt. You have redeemed yourself, Hawk. They have forgiven you."

Chozen lets the words hang in silence before continuing: "Now you must forgive yourself."

Hawk proceeds to have a complete mental breakdown, but chozen is there for him for all of it, and helps him stand back up almost an hour later. hawk thinks maybe he can forgive himself, and he begins healing.

those two form a bond just as close as Johnny and Miguel, and it's frankly both adorable and concerning to see (they'd prank everyone in the dojo to hell and back and get away with it each time). hawk talks about chozen to literally everyone. his friends. his parents. his neighbors. even counselor blatt gets some of it (he still hates her and he sure as hell doesn't trust her but at least she was kinda entertaining now that she wasn't a conduit for creating his hell anymore). and chozen talks about him to Daniel and Johnny too. "he mastered this kata yesterday!" or "look at this grappling hook he's picked up." they tease him for adopting his own karate kid but they're both happy for him.

and chozen openly admits it, hawk is is favorite and everyone knows it by now. he gifts him his personal sai blades he's had for almost 20 years for his birthday and everyone pretends not to see hawk shedding a couple tears. a few days later, when chozen finally gets his own apartment, hawk helps him move in and when they finish, he shyly hands him a framed photo of them sam had given him, taken weeks earlier unbeknownst to either of them, bowing to each other as they finished sparring for the day (nobody comments during the housewarming party when the picture was prominently displayed in the middle of his living room wall).

anyways, I really do love the chozen-hawk duo and I wish s5 had given us that (two or three scenes would've been enough to fulfill my desires but of course not). what a missed opportunity.

my biggest cobra kai regret is that they didn't roll with hawk and chozen as a sensei/student pairing. those two would have been incredible.

[waveoftheocean]

been thinking about brazil hinata recently so here he iiissss

[shorthaltsjester]

Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Red Storm

Heroes and Monsters by Penny & Sparrow // Critical Role Campaign 3

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[sskk-manifesto]

The best 68 seconds in anime history (and a 22 minutes 32 seconds of prelude to that, I guess)

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[slightlytoastedbagel]

Yuka Shiraishi. btw.

[angustully]

finding out that there will only be 8 episodes in season 2 of minx after being totally disappointed by ep 6 was really a bummer for me today.... they are not gonna get a season 3 huh

[koushirouizumi]

{YU-GI-OH!} Duel Monsters Type: AMV ~ Yuugi & {Ace-implied!}Yami {Atem*} (*This AMV mainly contains 'Yami''s form) [Reading in Aro-Ace or Aro-Acespec!Yami is also Fine] {Just please respect my own headcanons too!} Title: "Taking Over Me"

Summary: "You saw me M o u r n i n g my {xxxx} for YOU, and T O U C H E D MY H A N D..."

"...Just to F I N D Y O U--"

Music © E.v.a.n.e.s.e.n.c.e/Amy Lee

Spoiler Info: -Leads up to End of Anime-only “DOMA” Arc's Yuugi & Yami Duel {Anime-Only sequences; not included in original manga} -{Mainly} D.M. Only Eps -A single clip from the original 1st series by Toei opens it, but nothing else from it is included.

*Any Lip-sync'ng was unintentional {+Any similar Might be removed in any future Remake}

Yu-Gi-Oh! © Kazuki Takahashi Yu-Gi-Oh! 1st Series {Anime} © Toei Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters {Anime} © Studio Gallop This is a FAN-WORK. NO $$$ is being made off this work.

{AMV by (Young) Me} {DO NOT REPOST} {DO NOT COPY} {DO NOT REPRODUCE MY WORKS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION}

(Note: This is an OLD work {10+ yrs old}. and one of my last YGO D. M. ones of the timeframe; however, it was still very early on in my making of these type of works {AMVs} when I finished this. The footage used will reflect this, as it was made before widespread transition into H.D. Footages. Please be understanding.) [There may be intent for me to remake it someday!] Overall, it is Complete, and other than removing accidental lipsyncs; Most of it I do not plan to change.

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

{I am NOT taking new Requests [or making changes to this one] (+for this series) at this time. Please DO NOT Ask!}

[jackass-jones]

Starfire teen titans my best friend Starfire id burn alive for you

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[luveline]

Just re-watched the prison Reid arc and whew! Can I request post prison Reid getting to meet his new baby for the first time with a civilian reader? Like he was arrested while reader was still pregnant and she gave birth right before he got out? Maybe have a Diana cameo cause I just love her🤭

ty for requesting! fem, 1.6k

“Do you want me to take him?” 

You give Diana a grateful smile. “Is that okay?” 

Diana is reedy like Spencer, tall and skinny, but strong, too. She treads the carpet in her moccasins and holds out her arms for the baby, shushing him softly as you pass him over. You’ve had to look after her these last few weeks in a way you weren’t prepared for, but she’s looked after you in turn.

She’s almost completely lucid today. The good news has its hooks in her. 

You look out of the window again. The baby coughs in Diana’s arms, a clearing sound after feeding. If she’s gentle with him he’ll fall asleep before Spencer gets home. You aren’t sure what to do, let him sleep or wake him. What would Spencer want? 

I want to come home, he’d said, choked up over the phone, so badly. I’m so sorry. 

“Are you sure you won’t call him Walter?” Diana asks. “Spencer likes that one.” 

“I’m sure, Diana. He liked Jasper, so…” You bite the tip of your tongue until it aches, refusing to cry again. “So I went with Jasper. I hope he doesn’t mind.” 

That morning when Emily told you he was coming home, you cried like you’ve never, ever cried. So hard that the baby woke up in his cot across the room and cried with you. 

You’d cried a lot after Spencer was arrested, and worse when he was imprisoned. You cried like a baby the day you went into labour because you knew you’d have to do it alone, when Spencer promised he’d be there with you, that you wouldn’t have to do any of the scary parts alone. 

It didn’t take long to stop. You’d grabbed Jasper with your cheeks soaked in tears and rubbed his back, that small stretch of warmth under your hand like a lifeline. In a way, Jasper being Spencer’s has made this easier. You’ve had a part of him. It just wasn’t enough to get over missing him. Every bit of joy —you have a baby now, your beautiful boy— has been swiftly followed with an aching sort of grief. Spencer missed his first cry, first bath, the very first time he opened his eyes. You can’t go back. 

“They said three.” 

Diana doesn’t seem concerned. She’s missed Spencer as much as you have, and you know her worry for him has made her more poorly than she’d otherwise be most days, but the baby helps. “I’m gonna find his bear,” she says. 

You bend down, trying to see the corner of the street through the window. Then you remember the last time you left her alone in the kitchen and flinch. “Hey, Diana?” you call. 

She’s checking the drawers for the bear. You’re not sure why she thinks the bear would be there, but perhaps that’s where she put it. “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?” you ask her. 

“You’re spying on me.” 

“Spying implies you don’t know what I’m doing.” 

She pats the baby’s back. “I can see why you and Spencer get along.” 

It’s a little more than getting along. 

She finds Jasper’s bear atop the bread bin, sitting at the kitchen table with him, the bear sat across from him, though Jasper’s already sleeping again. 

You put the stovetop kettle on to boil and realise with a start that you can make Spencer a cup of tea at the same time. Your smile is unfailing, then. He really is coming home. The kettle begins whining while you recover his favourite mug from the cabinet, untouched the entire time he was gone. 

“How many sugars today?” you ask. 

“Was that the door?” 

“What?” You’re putting the mug down before you can compute. 

“Angel?” 

You feel a rush of emotion all over at the sound of his voice. You try to call back to him, but you don’t manage anything more than a catching gasp as you push out of the kitchen and find him at the door. Right there at the end of the hall. 

Pale, tall. Arms already opening, half a step as you run at him. He doesn’t complain when your chest knocks against his. He doesn’t say anything at all. 

“Hi,” you breathe, pressing your nose to his shoulder. Your eyes stay open —it’s like panic without the fear. He’s really here in your arms. 

He squeezes you tightly. So tight you can’t breathe for a second. Then he gentles, his hands rubbing up and down your back out of sync, face falling into yours. 

In the kitchen, Jasper makes a croaky crying sound, a stirring Diana calms immediately. 

You attempt to pull away. Spencer will want to see Jasper, of course. He hadn’t met his own son. It was all he could talk about for weeks before he went away, and yet—

Spencer just rubs your back. After another half a minute like that, he asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat.

“Yeah? No one would tell me anything specific, I was worried you might not be alright.” 

“Everything went fine.” He holds you to his chest. He smells like cheap soap. “I didn’t– it was really okay. He was easy, like he knew I couldn’t handle any complications.” 

“And he–?”

You recognise the undercurrent in his voice. It’s the same thing you felt when they put Jasper on your chest for the first time. “He’s perfect.”

“All ten fingers?” 

You pull away. Immediately, Spencer’s taking your face into two hands, his eyes pouring into yours with an intensity that worries you. “He has all his fingers and toes,” you say quietly, “how about you? How’s your leg?” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to answer. Jasper makes another noise and Diana’s chair creaks. You turn with Spencer’s hand on your side, watching as she brings Jasper to the door. 

“Spencer,” Diane says, like she just saw him yesterday, “you’re late.” 

“Sorry, mom.” 

He always sounds younger when he talks to her. 

“Will you take the baby? I was just making some tea,” she says. 

Spencer nods but doesn’t move. 

“I’ll take him.” You kiss Spencer on the cheek. Remember you haven’t for weeks and kiss him again. “It’s okay.” 

You hold your arms out and take Jasper against your chest. Spencer takes a step forward, stops, hesitating, but when you turn to him with a comforting smile the band holding him back snaps. He crosses the room, breath pulled like he’d stopped as he cranes his head to see his baby. 

“Three weeks old today,” you say softly, tipping Jasper back so Spencer can see his face. “He missed his daddy, you know.” 

“You can’t know that.” 

“Of course I can. I’m his mom, Spencer… And who wouldn’t miss you?”

Spencer shakes his head gently, reaching out to caress Jasper’s full cheek. 

“Jasper,” Spencer says. 

“He’s been a great baby so far. Doesn’t give me much trouble. He cries all night, of course… but all babies do. He goes down after a while. I’ve–” You swallow the heat of missing Spencer like a barb dragging against the inside of your throat. “Told him you’re coming home. I told him every day, I promise.” 

“M’sorry,” he says, pained. 

“I know, Spence.” You nudge him. “Time to hold him, honey.” 

He’s more eager than you thought. It’s almost like he’s worried you won’t let him have the baby, but it’s like you told him on the phone: Spencer made a stupid mistake, and you still love him. He never should’ve been going back and forth like that, but you get why he did. Wouldn’t you want Jasper, one day, to care about you in the same way Spencer loves his mother? You forgave him the moment he apologised. 

“It’s alright,” you say, slotting Jasper from your arms to his, guiding his hand behind Jasper’s delicate neck. “Just hold him. He missed you.” 

Spencer sniffles. “I missed him too,” he says. 

“I know.” 

Diana realises eventually that Spencer being home is a big deal. It’s not her fault, not understanding, but the new baby, her relocation again, her nurse barely gone, and Spencer’s sudden homecoming, it’s probably too much to deal with. She finds you, Spencer, and Jasper on the couch in the living room and frowns at him heartily. “You won’t hug your own mother?” she asks.

“You’ll have to hug me around the baby,” he says, sorry. 

She agrees to this without fuss. She caresses his cheek as he’d done for Jasper as she pulls away. 

“Thank you for helping out, mom,” he says. 

“It was all Y/N, Spencer. You know mothers. We’re strong.” 

Spencer looks at Jasper, still sleeping, and then to you, a shade of adoring in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “I know,” he says. 

You curl into his side and take a breath. For the first time in weeks, you let your body relax, finding it sorer and angrier than you’d left it the last time you had the chance to check in. 

Spencer brings the side of your face to his lips to kiss your weary cheek.