#and my job is pretty dangerous risky and not the easiest

[unhonestlymirror]

It can happen that I will have to work for free for a month because "your bank account is not suitable, make another one in another bank, or - no salary"

By the end of my 20s, I'm gonna be like a Drug Lord: with dozens of bank accounts and thrice more credit cards.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 13 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer finally meets Reader’s roommate while the two prepare for a picnic. After Spencer lectures Reader on the dangers of the outdoors, the two face a different kind of danger at the bank.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Gun violence mention Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Although I’d been inside (Y/n)’s apartment several times now, I couldn’t say I’d ever actually looked much at my surroundings. It felt strange to admit that, mostly because I felt like I was doing something wrong; like I was a traitor to my job.

But then again, it felt worse to try to profile her. The few times I had made it obvious, she had made it very clear it was unappreciated. I could understand why.

So, before we even got to her door, I tried to quiet the voices screaming in my head, telling me to look for clues to all the unknowns about her. It wasn’t because I was expecting her to be hiding anything; I just wanted to know everything about her.

I could simply wait for her to tell me, though. We had all the time in the world, right?

“Laura, I’m home!” She called out immediately after breaching the entrance, following the exclamation with a very hurried request. “Spencer is here so please don’t be weird!”

The response was a calm, steady series of footfalls down the hall. The girl stuck her head around the corner, peeking at the two of us with a devilish grin.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Reid.”

I told myself I probably shouldn’t be this nervous. If she was friends with (y/n), she was most likely a decent person. But let’s just say women around that age had never been particularly kind to me. They brought to the surface a lot of memories I’d tried very hard to bury.

She didn’t put her hand out to shake, which told me they’d already probably talked about me more than I’d have liked. ‘Wait,’ I thought to myself, ‘Is it okay to profile her roommate?’

“I’m going to go get a basket together. Wait in the living room, my kitchen is a disaster.”

Before I could argue, she had already disappeared, leaving me stranded in the hallway with her roommate who looked ready to cause trouble. I just hoped it wouldn’t the kind that revolved around me.

She waved a hand in front of her, motioning for me to make my way into the living room. Once we were there, she immediately took a seat, but I remained standing. Felt better to be able to escape.

The silence was awkward and suffocating. I could feel her staring at me, but she wasn’t saying anything. It felt wrong to look back.

“She says you read people for a living.” Her voice had a hint of skepticism in it I’d grown used to. “Sounds kind of like what psychics say.”

“Yeah, we use a lot of the same strategies, too. They just aren’t as honest about it as we are.”

“What do you see here?”

That was what got me to turn around and face her. She looked so comfortable, curled up on the couch.

“Pardon me?” The question caught me off guard, even though it shouldn’t have. I’d heard it so many times.

“What does our apartment say about us?” She asked, clearly not understanding why it was an inappropriate thing to ask. Or more likely, just didn’t care. Curiosity is a powerful thing.

I cleared my throat before looking back away and saying, “I agreed not to profile (y/n).”

“Well, can you at least tell which stuff is hers?”

I’m sure she was just checking to see if I was legitimate or just scamming her. Maybe she was checking to see if I was too good at it.

She didn’t need to worry. (Y/n) could handle herself. She wasn’t tricked easily. In fact, most of my intrigue and concern surrounding her unknowns was just how good she was at hiding things.

It wasn’t until I had registered that question and was staring at her walls with a newfound sense of purpose, that I realized how little I knew about her past. Then again, I don’t really care about her past.

It had made her who she was today, and that was the woman I loved.

My fingers brushed over old, cracked plastic on DVD cases displayed on a shelf beside the console center.

I didn’t even notice I was smiling at first, realizing that she’d kept the physical cases despite all the streaming services. She clearly still used the discs, too.

“These... are hers.”

“How can you tell?” The response in the form of a question told me I was right, and only made me feel even more deeply. Despite my greatest efforts to not look so excited by something so silly, I turned back around with my lips still curled in an awkward smile.

“Educated guess. Adrenaline.”

“What?” The confusion in her voice reminded me that she wasn’t aware of one of my deepest personality flaws.

“Research shows that only about 10% of the population are so called ‘adrenaline junkies,’ people who enjoy roller coasters and horror movies. It’s more often men than women, but it’s hard to tell because of the way we’re socialized.”

If I had turned around to face her, I probably would have seen the dead stare she was giving me during my rant.

“Regardless, people tend to either love horror or hate it. So, I considered the fact that (y/n) seems to enjoy things like... sneaking into bars with fake IDs and… other risky behavior.”

Well, that was close.

“But what really gave it away was the fact they’re not dusty, which means they’re still being used despite all of these movies being available on streaming services I know for a fact she uses. Considering how patient she is with my own Luddite tendencies I just figur—“

“Wow.”

The word cut off my train of thought, and I realized that I had barely breathed since I’d started. Wincing in response to the dumbfounded look on the poor girl’s face, I gave a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“A little bit,” she said with her own little pity laugh. I’m sure (y/n) had told her enough about me that this wasn’t that big of a surprise.

“I do that when I’m nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” she said like it was the easiest advice in the world, “You’re right about her, you know.”

Staring down at my feet, I wondered why the confirmation from her roommate meant so much to me. I hadn’t been actively trying to figure out things about my girlfriend — it felt wrong. But for whatever reason, knowing I had the ability to figure it out meant more when it was about her.

Laura laughed again, craning her neck to look around the corner before she quietly spoke. “She says it was the other way around, but she’s the one who convinced me to streak the lawn.”

Ah, the age-old tradition of UVA students. It was so easy to picture her stripping down to nothing in the dead of the night to prance down the length of manicured grass. My own personal little pixie.

If it was just an attempt to calm my nerves, it was working. Putting the focus back on (y/n) was a surefire way to bring out the best in me. She just had that effect on me.

“I am entirely unsurprised by this information,” I said before walking over to the other side of the room, noting the distinct lack of pictures of family among the shelves that clearly belonged to her.

Don’t read into it, I told myself, she might just keep them somewhere else.

“She also drank an entire water bottle of vodka during a full day of classes one time, just because I bet that she wouldn’t.”

I scoffed at the image of her drunk. It’d been a while since I’d seen her like that, and both times had been remarkably unique. She’s a dead giveaway; I was surprised she hadn’t been caught.

“I can’t say I relate to that,” I sadly admitted. Sometimes it was hard to realize that if I’d known her at the same age, we probably wouldn’t have gotten along. I used to hate people like that.

Granted, they had usually also hated me.  

“She did mention you were a genius or something. I kind of figured. That’s her type.”

Well, that was information I couldn’t just gloss over. I furrowed my brow with a disbelieving smile, finally looking at the girl who was avidly watching my every move.

“Is it? I always pictured her with someone with more… Kinaesthetic intelligence.”

She gave me that look people give me when I said something weird, but continued nonetheless, “I don’t really know what that means, but she takes school pretty seriously. Honestly, probably a little too much. Part of why I dared her.”

“It’s strange to imagine her in class.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but once it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. And I was glad I couldn’t, because I was very curious about the answer.

“She’s the girl who knows all the answers and shuts down all the stupid guys trying to talk over her.”

I knew that those behaviors weren’t exactly favored in classrooms, having myself been the one at the brunt end of the bullying that followed.

“It’s pretty impressive.” She was being genuine when she spoke, and I was inclined to agree. At the same time the thought crossed my mind, I found a picture of her perched on the lap of the Thomas Jefferson statute.

God, I loved that girl.

“I bet she is.”

Almost on call, (y/n) poked her head into the room with wary eyes, looking at me as I awkwardly waved before looking back to her roommate.

“Laura, are you being weird?”

The girl rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond. Instead, she turned to me like it was my question to answer. Afraid to spoil any tenuous, newly formed loyalties, I shook my head no.

“Okay…” She only barely accepted my answer, “But if you say some dumb shit and get arrested, I’m not bailing you out.”

Briefly sticking out her tongue as she walked past me, she continued on her way. I couldn’t help but give that lovestruck, idiotic grin I always gave when she was around. If you’d told me I would’ve ever felt like this about someone who felt the same about me, I wouldn’t have believed you. Part of me still didn’t believe she could ever love me the same as I loved her.

Turning back to the girl cringing at the blatant intimacy shared in a simple glance, I immediately became awkward again.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring my handcuffs.” I joked, showing my hands in a strange display of innocence.

She… took a different approach.

“I know for a fact she has a few pairs in her room if you need one.”

A high-pitched whine nearly escaped my throat at the casual mention, and I cleared my throat and turned to look at her with a very unconvincing laugh. “W-what?”

“You have to know it’s impossible for her to keep her sex life a secret,” she droned with a bored expression, “I live one room over.”

“Right,” I nodded.

There was an extended, never ending silence as she just let me stew in my own discomfort. It didn’t seem to bother her one bit, because the longer I avoided her eyes the more she seemed to smile.

“I’m uncomfortable.” I finally admitted, and she just shook her head, running her hand through her hair before giving me one final hard look.

“You’re sweet. You make her happy. I appreciate that.”

My mouth scrunched in a humble half-smile, my hands finding their way back into my pockets as I tried to consider the reality I’d found myself in. Of all the infinite possibilities, I got to exist in the version of the world where I loved a girl who loved me back.

“It’s all her,” I finally said with a voice that crackled far too much for my liking, “I don’t do anything. I’m just the lucky one she decides to keep around.”

Laura flashed an approving grin, but then got up when she heard the familiar, happy feet beating down the hallway. (Y/n) burst out from around the corner, her arms full with a picnic basket and a blanket she clearly owned for just these occasions.

“Ready to go, babe?”

“Lead the way.”

I’d have followed her anywhere.

—————————————————

It was the perfect time of year for a picnic, despite Spencer’s insistence that there was no such thing. Once we were in the park, his whining dramatically decreased. Maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was the smile on my face, but he was certainly in brighter spirits.

He even let me rest my head on his lap, his legs crossed underneath me while he alternated between staring off at the trees slowly losing their color to autumn and my quiet contentment as I nibbled on an assortment of fruits.

There was no awkward silence or hidden darkness in this day, and even the sweetest strawberry couldn’t be more refreshing. To be here with Spencer, soaking in the late Summer sun, was all I could ever ask for.

But I was also eager to take advantage of the uncharacteristic softness between us. It wasn’t often we could share moments like this. Between his job and all our problems over the past few months, I wasn’t sure when we could be like this again.

“Let’s talk about something fun.” I blurted out, earning an intrigued look from my boyfriend. He readjusted his position, leaning back on his hands so he could look down at me easier.

“Okay, like what?”

“Don’t make fun of me…” The way he was looking at me gave me no hope he would actually listen to me, but I continued anyway, “I have conversation starters I looked up.”

He snorted while trying to suppress his chuckle. “Of course you do.”

Dropping my mouth open, I reached up to lightly smack him on the face for immediately doing exactly what I had asked him not to.

“What? Like you’re the epitome of sociable, Dr. Reid?”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to stop the laughter that kept bubbling in his chest over something that was decidedly not that funny at all. We were just that stupid kind of happy where everything was wonderful.

“I’m just not surprised!” He reminded, then nodded for me to continue, “Go on, tell me one.”

“Tell me something you’re scared of.” I shot back, excited to hear the answer.

“The dark.” It was the most anticlimactic, stereotypical answer I could have imagined. It was my turn to scoff now, hardly believing the answer to be real.

“Seriously? You’re an FBI Agent, Spencer.”

“You told me not to make fun of you, but then you make fun of me? Unfair. I didn’t sign up for this scrutiny.” His legs started to move under me as he pretended like he was about to dump me from his lap and leave me here.

“Fine!” I shouted, reaching my hands up to grab his face. Although they fumbled awkwardly from my strange position, he took the time to lean to the side and kiss my palm lightly. “Favorite memory of the two of us.”

He blew out a long breath, his eyes squinted like they always did when he was in deep contemplation. But something told me something actually jumped straight to his mind, but he was holding it back for some other reason.

“That’s not fair. There are too many.”

I wasn’t falling for it. I flicked his nose before pulling my hand back, smiling at the way he jerked away like it actually hurt him. Giant baby.

“No cop out answers, old man. Favorite one!”

Spencer just sighed, letting his head fall back as he actually thought about what he was about to say for once in his life. I took the brief moment without his scrutiny to reflect on just how lucky I was to be able to see him like this.

“Okay. So, remember when we went to the bakery in Downtown?” He asked like I could have forgotten.

“Pauls? Yes, I remember.”

They’re legends in the area, but a total pain to try and get. You have to get there first thing in the morning and wait in a ridiculous line. But they were always worth it. Spencer had told me he’d never been, and I just couldn’t let such an injustice stand.

“While we were waiting in that ridiculous line, I remember looking at you and just seeing how excited you were for a donut, even at 7 in the morning.”

“That’s objectively the best time for a donut.” I interrupted with the most matter-of-fact tone I could emulate.

“Right,” he laughed, recalling how I kept reminding him of that fact while in line, “Well, we got to the front and before I could even talk, you had already ordered one for me.”

It took me a second to remember exactly what had happened. So much had happened since then, the memories were becoming muddled in my mind. But once I did remember, I smiled.

“Chocolate frosted with sprinkles. For the child in us all.”

“That’s it.” His voice had gotten soft so quickly, his hand brushing over my cheek while he played with the strands of hair blowing back over my face. “That’s my favorite memory.”

If I didn’t make a joke of it soon, I was scared my heart would burst.

“Really? That’s your favorite memory? Of all things?” I asked with a playful grin, clasping both of my hands around his and holding it against my chest.

“Yes.” For a man of so many words, it meant so much more when he spoke so little. You could feel the truth in the way the sound hit your ears.

Even as I bit on the inside of my cheeks to withhold my excited giggle, he was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Spencer, that’s so lame.”

In that way he always did, he so charmingly replied, “How fitting for us.”

“Rude,” I muttered, finally finding the strength to sit up from my position on his lap. The world only spun for a second as I reoriented myself. He seemed equally grateful, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“What else do you want to make fun of me for?” Spencer said with a smile, watching as I reached into the small basket and pulled out a small clementine. I ran through the questions in my head, trying to decide which one to spend our limited time on.

“Okay,” I decided, “What did you think the first time you saw me?”

His face scrunched up with the leftover embarrassment from our very first meeting, during which the first thing he had ever done to me was lie. It had been a flattering one, though.

As I popped a section of the small citrus fruit into my mouth, I noticed the way he licked his own lips. The sight caused butterflies to flurry in my stomach, and I wondered which was more appealing to him; the mouthwatering scent of oranges or the idea of slipping something else between my lips.

“I thought... that you were beautiful and intriguing. And I was right.”

I got my answer to my preceding thought, because he had quickly wrapped his hand around the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss with crushing force. For someone who wasn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection, he certainly didn’t mind kissing me like this.

Despite how deep and hard it was, it ended far too quickly. I sucked on my bottom lip as he left, staring up at him with wonder and devoted attention.

“Why was I intriguing?”

He clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead, probably hoping that the kiss alone would distract me from asking any more questions about that night. Unable to get out of it now, though, he just shrugged with a nervous chuckle, “You... were looking at me?”

My laugh, on the other hand, was full bodied as I pushed him away from me with just enough force that he actually almost toppled over.

“That was it? Because I looked at you?”

It seemed so silly, but I could tell by the way he responded that he meant it. He had told me before, on that night actually, that he wasn’t used to women showing him attention. But surely, he must just be missing it. He was an amazing man.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about you.” He paused between his words, taking a deep breath before attempting to work through his thoughts, “Like... like things just revolve around you. You have this intense gravitational pull that just told me that I had to get closer to you or I wouldn’t be able to survive.”

Fighting back the blush quickly forming on my cheeks, I struggled to maintain my typical aloof nature. I couldn’t have him getting a swelled head just because he could string together a couple cute sentences.

“Are you calling me a star, Dr. Reid?”

“I guess I am, yeah.” He hit me back with that confidence he rarely displayed outside of our play. I loved to see it like this. It made me feel like I was actually with him, rather than any manicured person he’d created to suit the needs of the current situation.

“If you felt that strongly about it, then why lie and say you weren’t checking me out? I could’ve left, you know.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Yeah, but I thought about it.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. There had been a couple of times during that night that I almost cut my losses—admitted that we were just too different to ever be compatible. Thank god I’d ignored that flawed instinct.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. Have you looked at your boyfriend? I’m so weird.”

The ease with which he flouted his eccentricities brought a smile to my face, and I shook my head as I tried to fight back in his defense. “You’re not that weird.”

“Are you joking? Look at yourself. You’re—You’re normalcy personified! No, actually, you’re not even that. You’re this... beautiful, smart, talented young girl and I’m just an old man who’s hoping to keep you around long enough that you forget you have better options out there.”

The longer he spoke, the more my jaw dropped open. Eventually, I had devolved into a fit of laughter.

“Dr. Reid, you can’t seriously be telling me that you think I am out of your league!”

“I mean—!” he started, but I wasn’t going to allow him to even entertain the thought. I clapped my hand over his mouth, nearly climbing onto his lap to hush any noises he attempted to make.

“No way!” I shouted, “Shut up!”

Instead of trying to wrench my hand away, his hands came to rest on my hips. I could feel the smile spreading across his cheeks under my fingers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Spencer. Fucking FBI Agent with three PhDs. Get out of here.”

He began bouncing his leg under me, and when I looked down to see what he was doing, I was shocked to feel a wetness on my palm. Ripping my hand away, I looked at my hand to see the swipe of saliva over the skin.

“Did you just fucking lick me?!” I screeched, unable to comprehend what had just happened, staring at my boyfriend with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I touched the ground with this hand! What are you doing?!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely going to rinse my mouth with bleach when we get home. But it was worth it, to see that look on your face.”

He went to wipe his own face, but I still couldn’t get over the fact my hand was fucking wet. So I took my hand once more, wiping the residue of his own spit back over his cheek. Surprisingly, he just let me do it, laughing as he only slightly tilted his head back.

“Nasty old pervert,” I joked, rolling my body off him and sitting on own once more.

“You’re very mean when you’re nice to me.” Spencer pouted.

I was distracted, trying to get my hair to stay out of my face and mouth as the wind started to whip through the park. Still, I managed to say a few very important words of warning.

“Yeah, well, get used to it, bud.”

Taking pity on my obvious distress, he reached out to grab my arm, tugging me back over to him. “Come here, little girl.” he instructed while I crawled over on all fours to sit between his legs.

I was going to ask him what he was planning when I felt his hands begin threading through my hair. I sat patiently, recognizing the pattern he was weaving.

“... When did you learn how to braid hair? Did your mom teach you?”

“My mom has short hair.” It was an evasive, but truthful answer, so I didn’t press it. I was sure I would find out more about his family as time went on. I just had to keep reminding myself that we had all the time in the world to get to know each other.

“I never learned how to braid hair specifically. I’m just applying the same pattern I would with a knot or a puzzle.”

“How romantic.” I gasped, tucking my hands between my legs as I enjoyed the way it felt for him to play with my hair.

It was always bizarre, to consider the way he could be so soft in moments like this. Or rather, that he could be so far the opposite at other times. In my heart, he was always the kind, goofy man I had met that night at the bar.

But I’d seen him angry, depressed, and in pain. I’d seen him desperate and scared. Basically, the only way I hadn’t seen Spencer Reid was however he was at work. Part of me wished that I could; it was obvious he was good at it and, to a certain degree, enjoyed it.

Then again, when I know he does things like get shot at, it makes it a little bit harder to be interested in. I couldn’t imagine getting that phone call one day while they loaded him into the back of an ambulance... or worse.

“Ah, the things I do for love.” His calm, smooth voice tore me from the destructive thoughts and back into his warm embrace.

“Hey, Spencer, I have a serious question.”

“Well, that’s terrifying.” He joked, holding out his hand for my hair tie, which I happily gave him. I hated to admit that he did a better job at braiding my hair than I’d ever done. Freaking stupid genius stuff.

“When do I get to say it back?”

I swear, I felt a chill spread through the air between us. His entire body froze, his hands stuck mixed with the elastic as he tied off the braid.

It was an intense, unwelcome flashback to the second night I’d spent with him, when we had talked about things too serious, too soon.

Terrified, I immediately cut off anything he might have been able to say, muttering, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Letting my hair slip from his fingers, he let his hand drag along my spine. I wished I could see the look on his face, but I didn’t dare turn around.

“I’m sorry.” He said after another moment of silence, and it physically pained me the way the words fell from his lips.

“Don’t apologize,” I said in the cheeriest tone possible, trying to lighten the mood, “I just wanted to test the waters.”

With that, I spun around dramatically, noting the way his face lit up once it saw the smile on my own. “And they are frozen solid!”

He laughed at the enthusiasm I displayed, swiftly throwing his arms around me in a tight embrace.

“Well, I’ll just have to warm you up, then.” My whole body in his arms, he yanked me off the ground and onto himself. I struggled playfully under his arms, not paying any attention to the other people in the park watching our childish antics.

“Hypothermia is very dangerous, after all,” he lectured, “Let me take your temperature.” Burying his face in my neck, I felt the familiar overstimulation that accompanied frantic, light touches of my sides.

“Stop!” I burst with laughter, “You’re tickling me!”

The movements all halted, but only to be followed with a terrifyingly devious tone of Spencer’s voice. “You’re ticklish?”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Oh, I love this information.” And just like that, he began his onslaught. His fingers danced over every inch of my sides, his lips pressing quick, frenzied kisses against the underside of my chin. The harder I laughed, the more he continued.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I screeched like a banshee, trying to slip from his hands or turn around—anything to get the upper hand again.

After nearly wrestling him, I managed to get both hands on his shoulders and shove him back against the blanket. The force with which we hit the ground knocked the air from his lungs, and he groaned at my body weight on his chest.

“Okay, okay! You win!” He yelled, holding his hands in front of me while struggling not to touch the ground with his head. “I’m not risking more surface area of contact with the ground to fight you.”

“(Y/n) emerges victorious!” I grabbed hold of both of his hands, shaking his arms with all my leftover adrenaline while I cheered myself on.

“Dork,” he muttered under his breath before he grabbed my sides, laughing at the way I instinctually jerked. I threw myself off of him to avoid the potential tickles, landing clumsily next to him. And Spencer, being the genius, recognized it as the perfect opportunity to pin me against the ground.

Wasting no time, he pressed the same instruments which had begun the great tickle war against my own lips. My hands found their way to his cheeks, pulling him closer as his tongue easily found mine. Just like it always did with us, it felt like the world was disappearing around us.

All I could feel, smell, taste, think, was Spencer Reid. His love and admiration flowed from him with ease, and I was happy to take it in. After a few minutes, we had to break apart. We might like a little bit of exhibitionism, but I was pretty sure neither of us actually wanted to tear the other’s clothes off in a park.

Could you imagine if people knew he was an FBI Agent? I was sure they already thought our age gap strange. But I didn’t care what they thought. Because right now, we were happy.

“I’m the dork you love, though.” I whispered against his lips.

“Indubitably,” he mumbled back, starting to laugh at the way the word sounded in our teenage love-like delirium.

“Now who’s the dork.” I teased as I smoothed my hands over his shoulders.

“Hm. Still you. And a little bit me, too.”

Laughter was bursting from me again.

“You have grass in your hair, idiot.” Before he could do anything about it, my hands were all over it, ruffling his hair wildly out of place. He just squeezed his eyes shut, letting me ruin any semblance of maturity or control from his appearance.

“Wow. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” I chirped, accepting the small peck he gave me before he started to retreat from his spot above me.

“You ready to head home?”

“Yeah, just about,” he sighed like it was a terrible thing to do. He hadn’t even wanted to come on this picnic!

“I promised to check you for ticks, after all.”

Ah, the real thing we were both looking forward to. Although, I was sure he was going to take it way too seriously for a few minutes before we devolve into sex on the bathroom floor.

“Mmm. I’m thrilled.” I replied honestly, struggling to sit up now that my body had already slipped into Spencer Reid is on Top of You mode. It was one of those rare moments when I wondered if there really was a female version of blue balls, because I was almost certain I had it.

“I have to stop at the bank first, though. I’ll go throw this stuff in the car and we can just walk over.”

“Sure thing, old man.” I huffed as I stood up, holding the much lighter basket while he collected the blanket. Once he took it all from me, I glanced over at the nearby bench with a pout.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“You’re cute,” he smiled, kissing my cheek like it were a more serious goodbye, “I’ll be right back.”

While I waited for him, I cautiously watched the large, dark clouds rolling over the horizon. They threatened to swallow the sunshine that we’d basked in less than hour before. I tried not to think anything of it.

It wasn’t a metaphor; it wasn’t an omen. It was just the weather.

Spencer must have seen the anxiety, because when he came back, he gingerly placed his arms around me from behind, resting his head on my chin.

“I guess we have good timing. It looks like it’s about to storm.” I absently spoke, my eyes still fixed on the sky.

“Yeah, typical finicky Virginia weather, I guess.”

I wasn’t sure if I actually heard it in his voice or made it up, but I swore Spencer was also trying to stop himself from thinking something of the rain. I was probably just being paranoid. It was just a storm. They happened.

“Well, let’s get going so you can cash your check in person like an eighty year old man.” I joked, grabbing his hand and dragging him back towards the exit to the park.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration. There are other people my age who don’t trust cell phone banking transactions.”

“Are there, though?”

He just shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth it to get into it with me. Typical young kids, he must have thought, so irresponsible. But he didn’t say it, just held my hand on the short, quiet walk to the ornate building on the corner of two busy streets.

I swung our hands dramatically back and forth, earning an unamused, but still playful, glare from him.

“Your age is showing,” he pointed out before licking his lips and avoiding my eyes. I glared right back before responding, “Your stick-in-the-mud-ness is showing.”

“Not a word. Not a phrase. Not a thing.”

He stopped our hands dead in their tracks as he crossed the threshold, and for a second, I thought he was going to seriously be a spoilsport. But right when I least expected it, he swung our hands again and I nearly smacked into another person.

We both laughed, with me blurting out a frantic, “I’m sorry!”

“So immature,” he chastised, shaking his head with disapproval.

“I can’t believe you. You are such an asshole!”  

The familiar hum and beeping of the metal detectors threatened to dislodge memories from the back of my mind, and I shook my head to try to get rid of them again. Spencer glanced over with concern but didn’t mention it.

I was grateful. I didn’t want to talk about it. Once we had passed security, he settled into the line like he’d done it a million times before. But me, being a normal person who used my banking app to cash checks, felt strangely out of place.

Figuring it might be a minute, and that the ride home would be significantly longer, I decided to go get any residual dirt and grass out of my hair. After all, it would get in the way of our tick searching activities.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere.” I pointed an accusing finger at him as my arm slipped from around his. His hand followed me until he couldn’t hold on any longer, an innocent, lovesick smile on his face.

“You know I could never leave you behind.”

As cheesy as it was, it still made me smile. My heart ached with the saccharine sweetness of his affections. I’d gotten so used to them so fast; I couldn’t even imagine a world without them anymore.

“Don’t miss me too much, Dr. Reid.”

“You know I will, little girl.”

That storm cloud feeling was brewing in my chest again as I pressed a kiss to my fingers, blowing it across the ever-growing distance between us. Why did he feel so far away so suddenly?

I tried not to pay it any mind, humming You Are My Sunshine and imagining Spencer’s terrible singing voice instead. Looking at my reflection, I realized why my cheeks had been getting sore. Because there, staring back at me, was a smile on a neutral face.

I don’t even know when it happened, but it hit me in that bathroom of a bank at 12:47pm on a Saturday that I had fallen madly in love with Spencer Reid. And it suddenly made sense, why he didn’t want me to say it yet. Because I hadn’t realized it yet.

But now I had, and it filled every cell in my body. The blush on my cheeks was evidence of just how much I needed to let it out, to scream it from the rooftops, or at least in the lobby of this old bank.

There were so few things that could overwhelm the emotions I was feeling and rob me of this moment. My brain rioted against any sign of darkness or despair, clinging to the hope that I would be able to tell him soon.

So, when explosive booms rang through the bank, for a long second, I tried to convince myself they were thunder.

But they weren’t. The storm had indeed come, but it wasn’t responsible for the sounds that caused my heart to tear in two and shatter against the floor. The people outside the room were not screaming at the wrath of God, displayed with lightwork in the sky.

It was not thunder.

They were gunshots.

 —————————————————

| Part 14 |

[friendlyneighborhoodpsyop]

Quotes about Kaz Brekker:

Every act of violence was deliberate, and every favor came with enough strings attached to stage a puppy show.

The boy called Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission.

He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges.

“Who’d deny a poor cripple his cane?” “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

“I’m a business man,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“I’m not here for a taste. You want a war, I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening—not really. Now the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. Kaz Brekker was gone, and Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Brekker.” “I will,” said Kaz, “if there’s any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.”

“Well I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

Inej was always trying to wring little bits of decency from him. “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.” “And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.”

“What’s the difference wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the Exchange?” “One is theft and the other is commerce.” “When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.”

“You’re a blackmailer—“. “I broker information.” “A con artist—“. “I create opportunity.” “A bawd and a murderer—“. “I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.”

“You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those that take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach—the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” ��Each more grotesque than the last.” Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of bare skin caused your flesh to whither and die. “Pick one. They’re all true enough.”

Kaz was not a giddy boy smiling and making plans for a future with her. He was a dangerous player who was always working an angle.

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

Brick by brick. It was a promise that let him sleep at night, the drove him everyday, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay.

Kaz’s servant, greed, luring them South like a piper with a flute in hand.

“Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot. You know what he is.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces.”

Matthias knew monsters, and one glance at Kaz had told him this was a creature who had spent too long in the dark—he’d brought something back with him when he’d crawled into the light.

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

“I don’t want to die.” “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.”

“You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

Matthias suspected that Brekker would drag the girl back from hell himself if he had to.

He’d gifted her her first blade, the one she called Sankt Petyr—not as pretty as wild geraniums, but more practical.

“Kaz told me...he said it was my choice, that he wouldn’t be the one to mark me again.”

Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to your for two days.

He needed to know she believed in him.

“What to do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

Kaz would always remember that moment, when he’d seen greed take hold of his brother, an invisible hand guiding him forward, the lever at work.

There could be no judgement from a boy known as Dirtyhands.

“Let’s say the mark is a tourist walking through the barrel. He’s heard it’s a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it’s there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he’s being. No fool he. Of course every time he pats his back pocket or front of his coat, what’s he doing? He’s telling every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub.”

It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

He’d heard there were sharks in these waters but they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

He’d imagined his death a thousand ways, but never sleeping through it.

It was as if once Kaz had seen her, he’d understood how to keep seeing her.

“If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” Better terrible truths than kind lies.

He knew he was being reckless, selfish, but wasn’t that why they called him Dirtyhands? No job too risky. No deed too low. Dirtyhands would see the rough work done.

A good magician wasn’t much different than a proper thief.

She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

“Some people see a magic trick and say, ‘Impossible!’ They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good nights sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for the skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind”

“You love trickery.” “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”

“Do you know the secret to gambling, Helvar? Cheat.”

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not been healed wrong. There was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in the world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

He needed to tell her...what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her.

“Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing whenever he looks at you.” “You...you can?” “It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”

“How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“I’m not big on bluffing, am I, Inej?” “Not as a rule.” “And why is that?” “Because he’d rather cheat.”

Inej wanted Kaz to become someone else, a better person, a gentler thief. But that boy had no place here. That boy ended up starving in an alley. He ended up dead. That boy couldn’t get her back. I’m going to get my money, and I’m going to get my girl.

“A proper thief is like a proper poison. He leaves no trace.”

There were no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate didn’t agree with them.

“If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by it’s other names.” “Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?” “Freedom, security, retribution.”

“It’s pragmatic. If I were cruel, I’d give him a eulogy instead of a conversation.”

“You haven’t been alive long enough to rack up your share of sin.” “I’m a quick study.”

Patience, he reminded himself. He’d practiced it early and often. Patience would bring all his enemies to their knees in time.

“You’ve got the devil’s own blood in you, boy.”

Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch.

“I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. My father is profit. I honor him daily.”

Desperate for some sign that he might open himself to her, that they could be more than two creatures united by their distrust of the world.

They could continue on with their armor intact. She would have her ship and he would have his city.

Sure, a lock was like a woman. It was also like a man and anyone or anything else—if you wanted to understand it, you had to take it apart and see how it worked. If you wanted to master it, you had to learn it so well you could put it back together.

He always liked returning to a home or business he’d had cause to visit before. It wasn’t just the familiarity. It was as if by returning, he laid claim to a place. We know each other’s secrets, the house seemed to say. Welcome back.

“When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel? They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” “They think they’d better cross the street.”

“We can endure a lot of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”

“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges, Rollins.”

It was as if Kaz had a secret map of Ketterdam that showed the city’s forgotten spaces.

“I’ve taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it’s that you can always bleed a little more.”

Was Johannus Rietveld meant to be his Jakob Hertzoon? Or had it been some way of resurrecting the family he’d lost? Did it even matter?

“I wreak all the havoc I can until my luck runs out, use our haul to build an empire.” “And after that?” “Who knows? Maybe I’ll burn it to the ground.”

Tell her to get out, a voice inside him demanded. Beg her to stay.

Kaz thought he knew the language of pain intimately, but this ache was new. It hurt to stand here like this, so close to the circle of her arms.

“These things don’t wash away with prayer, Wraith. There is no peace waiting for me, no forgiveness, not in this life, not in the next.”

Two of the deadliest people the barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both keeling over.

A black glass boy of deadly edges.

A bit of entertainment, the dramatic end of Kaz Brekker, the humbling of Dirtyhands. But this was no cheap comedy. It was a bloody rite, and Per Haskell had let the congregation gather, never realizing the real performance had yet to begin. Kaz stood upon his pulpit, wounded, bruised, and ready to preach.

“You have two minutes to get out of my house, old man. This city’s price is blood, and I’m happy to pay with yours.”

“What is wrong with him,” Nina grumbled. “Same thing that’s always wrong with him. He’s Kaz Brekker.”

“Rich men want to believe they deserve every penny they’ve got, so they forget what they owe to chance. Smart men are always looking for loopholes. They want an opportunity to game the system. The toughest mark is an honest man. Thankfully, they’re always in short supply.”

“Well, Brekker, it’s obvious you only deal in half truths and outright lies, so you’re clearly the man for the job.”

“What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?” “Who’s Jordie?” “Someone I trusted. Someone I didn’t want to lose.”

He put his gloves back on and didn’t take them off. He became twice as ruthless, fought twice as hard. He stopped worrying about seeming normal, let people see a glimmer of the madness within him and let them guess at the rest.

The rage inside him burned on and he learned to despise people who complained, who begged, who claimed they’d suffered. Let me teach you what pain looks like, he would say, and then he’d paint a picture with his fists.

That was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.

“I will kill you, Brekker. I will kill everything you love.” “The trick is not to love anything.”

“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It’s a smile he thought he might die to earn again.

“He doesn’t say goodbye. He just lets go.”

“Ketterdam is made of monsters. I just happen to have the longest teeth.”

[halstudandruz]

Guilty By Association

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: You get kidnapped thanks to a hit put on Antonio

Warnings: Kidnapping, beating, blood

You knew when you started dating Antonio it would come with challenges. Obviously Laura had left him for a reason. You knew it would take a lot of work and understanding on your part, but you also knew Antonio was worth it. You had met him thanks to work. You were a nurse at Med and ran into him a lot when he would come to question suspects, victims, or witnesses. You were honestly quite shocked whenever he asked you out, but you had no problem accepting. You hit it off quickly, and even Eva and Diego seemed to like you which was your biggest worry. It was a normal night for you just getting off your shift at the hospital. You said your goodbyes to everyone at work, heading out to your car to finally go home to some much needed sleep. However, as soon as you reached your car you heard tires screeching, breaking quickly whenever the van reached you. You were grabbed harshly, a hand clasped tightly over your mouth preventing any noise from coming out. Although you didn’t know if any noise would come out anyway thanks to the shock running through your body. You were dragged into the back of the van, the man never letting go. Once inside the back doors were closed and you the van was once again screeching down the road. It was then that the shock started to fade, and adrenaline began to take over. You began to kick and flail your arms as strongly as possible which only earned you a kick to the ribs from another guy accompanying you in the back that you weren’t aware of up until that point. You couldn’t help the wail of pain that escaped your mouth. The other man took this opportunity to tie your hands together while the man who had kicked you tied your feet together. Neither of them took no mercy tying the ropes tight and hard. Surely leaving cuts, bruises, and indents in your skin. Not long after you felt the van come to a halt, and the back doors swung open. The man facing you was tall and skinny, but also muscular. Tattoos covering his neck and arms. You hadn’t recognized him. He helped the other two men carrying you into the warehouse. You tried to take mental pictures of everything around you although you were sure it wouldn’t make any difference. The men carried you in throwing you on to the concrete floor which caused you to crack your head blacking out for a second. You whimpered not wanting you make any noise to give them the satisfaction. Once you landed you felt something in your pocket. It was then you remembered your phone had never fallen out thanks to the deep pockets of your scrubs. You did your best to conceal it not drawing any attention. Luckily it was still on silent from work. Although you knew you couldn’t reach it you were hoping Mouse could get a ping on it if they came to look for you. They pulled you up against the wall taking the rope off your wrists and replacing them with handcuffs attaching you to hooks sticking out. You stared up hard at the men surrounding you, pain shooting throughout your body and for some reason you felt it was only going to get worse.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked anger coursing through you. It wasn’t until this moment that you discovered Antonio had a hit placed on him for killing a gang leader’s son, and the only way to get to him was through you. You didn’t know what to think. Eva had been kidnapped and raped, Diego had been kidnapped, and now you. You weren’t sure at this point what else it was going to take for Antonio to realize he was putting you all in danger. You knew he loved his job, and you wanted him to continue to do it, but something needed to be done whether that be hiring you all a private security or what. That is if you would ever make it that far. The pain in your ribs, back, and the excruciating headache that was present was telling you otherwise. “You’re seriously doing this all for some cash?” You asked trying to get through to them, but they just laughed. 

“$100k is not “some cash.” We do this for free half the time. Well I guess technically we are doing it for free to you..” One of the guys answered smiling big.

“You’re sick.” You huffed only making them smile bigger. 

“Don’t worry we have a lot still to come.” The big guy winked at you before they all left the building. No matter how hard you tried to tug your arms you only made the pain worse. You looked around for anything to get you out, but the strategically removed everything from around. 

“Antonio, come on. Please hurry up.” You whispered to yourself in desperation.

~Antonio’s POV~

“[Y/N]?” I yelled out walking into her apartment. Her car was not in the parking lot, and her shoes were nowhere to be found. I walked into her bedroom to see her bed still made untouched. I pulled out my phone calling her again for about the twentieth time in an hour. This gave me an uneasy feeling, but I convinced myself maybe something caught her up at work or maybe she fell asleep there on accident. So, off to Med I went. I pulled in to the employee parking lot to see her car sitting there. Still not knowing whether this was a good thing or not I quickly rushed in to be met with Dr. Manning standing at the desk. Once I got her attention she turned to me.

“Hey, Detective Dawson what can I do for you?” She asked pleasantly. 

“Is [Y/N] still here?” I rushed out concern clear in my voice.

“I don’t believe so. I haven’t seen her since last night.” Natalie answered confusion on her face. “Why? What’s wrong?” She continued.

“Her car is still in parking lot.” I replied digging for my phone and dialing Voight’s number walking out and leaving Natalie in her confused state.

“Voight.” I heard other end of the phone after two rings.

“I think [Y/N]’s missing.” I rushed out.

~[Y/N] POV~

I was surprised to find the amount of pain one can endure before passing out. Even as a nurse the reality shocked me. It also surprised to find that people are so messed up in the head that they enjoy beating someone so badly, that they enjoy hearing the screams of pain, and they will do whatever they can ensure it. 

“Please, please stop.” You begged.

“Why would we do that?” They asked.

“I am not him. I didn’t do anything.” You cried.

“Guilty by association I guess is what you could call it. Plus you were the easiest to get to. It was either you, his kids, or his sister. Guess you were just the lucky winner.” The man shrugged hauling back to kick you again.

“You do realize he is going to find you right?” You asked glaring at them.

“That’s the plan.” They answered. You took the beatings for another ten minutes before you finally heard someone else’s voice. At the sound of that the men took off hiding behind barrels pulling out their guns. Which you thought was stupid on their part, but whatever. It didn’t take long for shooting to ensue between the two sides. You were waiting for one of the men to come back over to you, because that’d be the smarter thing to do, but obviously they weren’t very smart to begin with, kidnapping Antonio’s girlfriend, but that was for them to deal with. Adam snuck his way over to you as Kevin watched his back. You could see worry and sympathy written over his face.

“Come on. We got an ambulance outside.” Adam whispered cutting the rope and undoing the handcuffs. While the shooting continued.

“Where’s Antonio?” You asked looking around for him.

“Outside. Too risky for him to come in. They’d all be gunning for him.” Adam explained very carefully picking you up. You whimpered, tears running down your face again, breathing hard at the pain, and going in and out of consciousness. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Adam kept repeating, handling you like you were an egg that already had a crack in it. Luckily you weren’t too far from the door as Kevin guarded you both the whole time. You closed your eyes upon meeting the sunlight but fighting to open them again to find Antonio. Antonio came rushing up to you as Adam carried you over to Sylvie and Gabby where they immediately started checking you for damage. Antonio kept apologizing asking you questions, voice croaking every so often, probably due to a lump in his throat. You tried to answer, but your jaw hurt so bad and Gabby told you to stop talking. It was a very long process once you got to the hospital as they did a million and one tests. Antonio stayed by your side through it all. You were informed that you had a severe concussion, a number of broken ribs, a good amount of bruised body parts, and cuts everywhere. Although it sounds bad you were pretty lucky considering the beating you took. You were quite annoyed with the neck brace you had to wear, and Antonio didn’t waste any time lecturing you whenever you asked him to help take it off. Other than that he was silent most of the time only speaking to ask the doctor questions. After everything had died down the team came to visit you. They informed you they had taken two of the guys down in the shoot out and had the other in custody. Although you were glad they came to keep you company you also were not a fan of the sympathetic looks they kept throwing you. Having to tell them numerous times you were okay and stop looking at you like that. Even through all of that Antonio stayed silent. Eventually you were finally left alone with him. You looked over at him to see him sitting beside you elbows rested over his knees, staring up at you guilt completely written over his face.

“Didn’t I just tell you all not to look at me like that.” You joked turning your whole body to face him thanks to that damn neck brace. He however did not  find your joke funny. “Antonio, babe, come on.” You sighed holding your hand out for him to take it, which he did very hesitantly.

“I can’t believe this happened again.” He swallowed hard looking down at the floor.

“It’s not your fault.” You tried to reason with him, but that just made him angry.

“It’s not my fault?” He looked at you in disbelief, “How in the world is this not my fault [Y/N]?” He asked jaw visibly tensing.

“It’s not like you planned for this to happen Antonio. It’s just something that comes along with your job.” You answered.

“Well then I am fucking done with my job.” He threw his hands up standing up to pace around the room.

“Stop being irrational.” You scolded him.

“I am not being irrational. I can’t take it anymore. I am supposed to protect people and instead this is what keeps happening. The people I love more than anything in this world end up here because of me.” He ranted, running a hand through his hair.

“Come back over here.” You said sternly, but he just continued to pace around the room. “Unless you want me to come over there to you I suggest you come back over here.” You continued. He looked at you contemplating before he realized you actually would get up if you had to. He sighed heavily walking over and sitting next to you once again. “Do you even realize how many people you’ve helped? How many people you’ve saved?” You asked.

“That doesn’t matter to me if I can’t save you.” He answered grabbing a hold of your hand.

“You have plenty of times Antonio. I can’t imagine where I’d be if I wouldn’t have found you.” You admitted squeezing his hand tighter. “You’re not quitting your job.” You stated. If he didn’t do it to save his family, if he didn’t do it whenever Laura wanted him to you sure as hell weren’t letting him now. “Although it would be nice to rub into Laura’s face.” You joked making him chuckle and roll his eyes. 

“I love you, and I am so sorry baby.” He looked at you biting his lip.

“I love you too.” You smiled at him. “Come cuddle me.” You begged pulling his arm. He very very very carefully sat down beside you barely moving his body. “Oh my goodness you people. I am not an egg that’s about to break, Dawson.” You complained giving him a look which made him smile relaxing a bit next to you. He reached for the remote scrolling through channels preparing you for the questions intelligence would soon ask you.

[truthbeetoldmedia]

iZombie 5x13 "All’s Well That Ends Well" Review

Hello friends, are we ready to say goodbye? I was a little nervous coming into this finale, seeing as there was so much to wrap up, and therefore...much to mess up. As a result, the pacing was indeed a little strange, but some minor characters get some hero moments, and it was all setting up a final ten minutes that essentially functioned as an epilogue that sealed the series. 

Okay, let’s dig in. Enzo has taken over Fillmore Graves and has declared war on humans. Dolly and her people have responded in kind, going around New Seattle taking out high ranking zombies. While gunfire rains over the city, Ravi, Clive, and Liv are returning from Atlanta with the vial needed for the cure. 

Even though it’s risky, they choose to fly to get back faster. Liv’s plane seatmate is suspicious, insisting she’s seen Liv before. Even though the official heist is over, the trio show they still have a few smooth moves, and manage to slip a sedative into the woman’s drink so she’ll stop asking questions. As she sleeps soundly, her iPad drops to the floor of the cabin. She must have figured it out right before she’s knocked out — the flight attendant picks up the device and sees the browser is open to an article about Liv and her work as Renegade. 

When the plane lands, the flight attendant pulls Clive, Liv, and Ravi from their seats and introduces them to a Portland police officer. After a brief moment of anxiety, the flight attendant reveals they are siblings, and Liv saved their younger sister’s life by smuggling her into Seattle and turning her into a zombie. The officer offers to escort them to the Washington border as a thank you, and in hopes they can get back to Seattle quicker. Clive is happy to hear this, as he gets a message that Dale is labor with their baby. 

Major turns himself in to get a shot at securing the Max Rager, and luckily he still has one more ally back at Fillmore Graves. Lieutenant Collins has always been a steadfast supporter of Major, and she truly comes through in his hour of need. She helps him get past Enzo and his lackeys so he can get to the precious energy drink needed for the cure. As a result, Enzo executes her. Lieutenant Collins was always a background character, but she was one that I always respected and appreciated, and without her, Major wouldn’t have been able to make it out of Fillmore Graves alive. We’re pouring one out for her tonight. 

Meanwhile, Peyton is still being held hostage by Blaine. She helps the Freylich kids make a distraction by conking him over the head, and tossing the keys to Oliver, the older boy with a terminal illness. He drives the getaway car, but Peyton doesn’t quite make it out with the rest of them. The Freylich smuggler shoots at Peyton, and while she takes him out, he gets her too. Blaine runs out to see Peyton bleeding out on the ground. 

The kids make it back to the safe house, just as Liv and Ravi are arriving. When they realize Peyton didn’t return with them, they get emotional. Ravi nearly falls apart before Liv reminds them they have an important job to do. She tells Ravi to get to cooking the cure, and she would deal with Blaine. She promises to show no mercy. 

Luckily, Blaine’s obsession with Peyton serves her well in this instance. He turns her into a zombie and forces to eat a meal with him. It’s pretty incredible Peyton has survived this whole series without becoming a zombie, but I guess the virus comes for everyone eventually. Unfortunately for Blaine, he should have been more calculating about the brain he fed her. Don E watches Peyton while Blaine goes to visit the well on his father’s property (the one that also used to serve as his father’s prison). Don E is delighted when Peyton has her first vision, but in a dead-panned voice, she tells him she saw Blaine suffocating a girl with a pillow, wearing a wedding dress and calling for Don E. While we still never see the true circumstances of Darcy’s death on-screen, I’m more inclined to trust Peyton’s version of things than Blaine’s. It’s the last straw for Don E, who storms to the well and unceremoniously pushes Blaine in. “No one was ever going to love you,” Don E screams down the well. “I’m the only person who could stand you, and you killed my fiance.” Liv shows up just in time to see the show and she hesitates even less. She hurls a rock at Don E and her aim is true. Don E goes in the well right after Blaine. “Enjoy eternity together!” she sneers, just as she bursts into tears, grieving Peyton. One has to wonder, if this was all that it took to get rid of these two, perhaps it should have been done a long time ago. It certainly would have saved Liv a lot of headaches. I find that even though it was a simple death, it was a deserving one for Blaine and Don E. I was hoping for more of a redemptive moment for Don E, but it took him way too long to see the light, and he’s been complicit in Blaine’s schemes since the very beginning. By the end, he was a richer character, but still an evil one. I’m okay with those two being a little closer to hell now. 

Besides, it was all worth it for the moment right after. “How funny would it be if now I knocked you in,” Peyton says. Liv turns around to see her best friend, and the two reunite in a sweet hug. This moment made me a little emotional. These two college buddies have morphed into two very capable and clever young women, and they’ve been by each other’s side through the worst of it. 

Blaine and Don E may be out of the picture, but we but we aren’t even close to the end yet! Clive and Dale deliver a beautiful and healthy baby. It essentially takes them out of all the action, but I thought, for better or worse, it was a strong choice. I was glad I didn’t have to worry about either of them dying in the eleventh hour, and they were able to watch everything from their television screens without being in danger. 

Ravi finally creates the cure, and he and Major dramatically roll up to the local TV station. After a brief attempt at convincing Johnny Frost to take the cure, Major takes matters into his own hands.  “I’m here to prove to the people that it’s over,” he says. He strikes a deal. Major will take the cure, and Enzo can shoot him in the chest in front of everyone. If he dies, it proves he’s not a zombie. It’s just the kind of stupidly heroic thing that Major would do, and Enzo takes him up on it. Major takes the cure and Enzo shoots him more times than can be counted. It’s traumatic, and they really had me believing that our boy was probably dead. Ravi tackles Enzo and manages to cure him. Graham, who had been sneaking around the background the entire episode, appears and shoots Enzo in the head, avenging his boyfriend. A Fillmore Graves officer takes him out, and chaos breaks out. RIP sweet teacher Graham. Outside the TV station, there’s intense gunfire being exchanged between Fillmore Graves, Dead Enders, and Dolly’s CHICS. Inside, the power goes out. 

Ravi crawls over to what appears to be a lifeless Major, while we listen to a voicemail he left for Liv. He says goodbye because he doesn’t think he’ll survive his latest world-saving stunt, but she’s always been the love of his life. Just when I was beginning to choke up and start preparing for a life without Major Lillywhite, he softly croaks, “You tricky son of a bitch, what was in that syringe you gave me.” Ravi admits that he gave him a vial of straight up Max Rager, but promises him that “next time, it’s all yours.” 

Liv is back at the station, bawling while listening to the voicemail and believing Major is dead. Strangely, Michelle comes into the morgue and asks Liv if she’s okay. The moment is brief and someone breaks into the morgue and sets off a huge explosion. And then suddenly, we are ten years into the future. 

At first, I was a little let down. This is absolutely the easiest way to wiggle out dealing with the aftermath of Dolly, the other fringe human groups, and all the other plotlines that iZombie didn’t feel like it wanted to deal with neatly. We don’t get to watch how Seattle apparently “repopulated, rebuilt, and rebranded” as we hear in a moment later. But my frustration was short lived, as the last ten minutes were devoted to my beloved core characters that I adore so much. 

Clive, Peyton, and Ravi appear on a virtual reality talk show, where a charismatic host asks them questions about their lives after the cure. As three people who had a front row seat to the events, the host wants to get their perspectives. It’s revealed that none of them stayed in New Seattle after the war, but they all went on to have very successful careers and marriages. Ravi and Peyton are a married couple living in Atlanta, she’s a lawyer and Ravi is head of the CDC. Clive and Dale are co-captaining San Francisco PD while raising their kid, as well as Michelle’s. Besides their lives prospering, the world has recovered from this chapter of history. The cure was distributed, and while some were cured, some are still living full lives as zombies. Dolly is still out there, but not causing trouble as far as we know.  While this is all lovely and good, this show really makes us sweat here. Where are Liv and Major? The host wants to know as well. The three of them insist that they are both lost to time, legends in their own right, and they miss them just as much as anyone. Liv died in the morgue’s suicide bombing, and while Major never lost hope that she’s alive, no one has seen him in ten years. They’ve accepted that Liv isn’t alive or that Major will never resurface, America will have to accept it too.  

Unless...

We see a flashback of Major returning to the safe house with the kids, and Liv meeting them there. They reunite with a passionate kiss, and even though things are still burning and they are covered in dirt and exhausted, things are right again. 

In the most “happily ever after” ending the show could have possibly delivered, Liv and Major are living their lives in private, in a huge mansion by the water, with all their little zombie children. Their friends are well aware of this, and are protecting them from the world at large with their reunion interviews. After the host disappears, Liv and Major appear in the virtual reality space, and after some light teasing amongst the group, they invite Clive, Peyton, and Ravi to their personal zombie haven. “All it takes is a scratch,” Liv says with a knowing smile. 

This show tackled more than it had a right to. It was convoluted, goofy, strange, exhausting, whimsical, outlandish, absurd, dark, and hilarious, all at the same time. But what grounded it at the center was the fact it never forgot about its core cast. At times they were given unfortunate character arcs, undercooked plots, and under-serving love interests. But in the end, we saw who they truly were. Ravi, the scientist with a moral compass. Peyton, the lawyer with clever smarts. Clive, the captain with a discerning spirit. And Major and Liv, the nurturers and protectors of zombie-kind, the best mom and dad friends you could ever ask for. I can’t express how happy I am the show ended with these five, standing tall and in love with each other, looking well-rested in paradise. It wasn’t an easy road, in fact sometimes it was a very frustrating road. But when I remember iZombie, I’ll remember it was a show about heroes, good over evil, and a really, really good meal.  I’m always going to have a soft spot in my heart for it. 

Stray thoughts 

“She’s googling The Good Place. She thinks I’m Kristen Bell.” “She’ll be sorely disappointed.” This gag was straight up gold. 

Those flamethrowers seemed especially cruel? Fire doesn’t kill zombies, but sure seems to be painful 

Collins, Graham, Oliver, and Michelle. All minor characters this season that had a Moment this episode. While most of these characters were overall underutilized in this series and season, I liked how each of them were used to tie things together. Oliver was the only one who made it out alive, however, and the rest of them definitely deserved better.

Did the suicide bomber think that blowing up the morgue would prevent creating more zombies…? That’s the only reason I can think why blowing up a fridge full of dead people could make sense. 

Wait this actually reveals a strange plot hole. Is there a limit to how long you’ve been dead before you can be scratched and be a zombie? I don’t remember this question ever explicitly being addressed. There was never an instance where anyone considered creating a zombie army from Liv and Ravi’s morgue.

Clive and Dale named their daughter Olivia. My HEART. 

Even though Peyton was okay, I’m glad we got to see Major comfort Ravi. Their bromance is truly one for the ages. 

“The way I make my decisions these days is asking myself what would Liv Moore do.” This couple is THAT supportive ship. 

I wish we had gotten better promo photos for this finale, or at least some more variety of scenes 

Even though it’s a little thin to believe that some people never turned back human and there are zombies still peacefully living among us (as well as Liv and Major, living outside), I actually didn’t mind it. They had to have some way to wrap up the problem of people who would die if they turned back into a human.

“I do miss you, partner.” “Vice versa, Clive.” Wow, ten years without Liv’s antics. I imagine that Clive’s productivity at work has gone way up, although I’m sure he sorely misses her crime-solving visions.

That’s a wrap for iZombie. What did you think? Favorite brains? Worst plot holes? Best shipper moments? Let me know your thoughts! 

Haley’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝.5

[canvas-the-florist]

Sleepover

Pairing: DLAMP

Warning: Sympathetic Deceit, Death threat??

Word Count: 2283

Everyone warned Logan that these four were dangerous. All their actions were random and they always knew what to say. It was too risky to go up to them. He was originally going to heed to that advice but it became harder and harder to follow. To say he was being stalked by them was a bit extreme, but Logan started to see them almost everywhere he went. Turns out Virgil likes going to the Starbucks he works at, Patton lives in the same apartment complex, Roman sits next to him in most of his classes, and Dimitri works at the only library in their city. It was driving him mad. He didn’t want to mixed with the wrong sort, but everywhere he went they’d be there.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Logan looked up and saw Roman giving him a concerned look. He nodded. Of course, he was okay, people were just… getting in his head. Oh, of course, Roman was the one to ask how he was doing. Logan looked up, he was in class. But, he never spaced out opportunities to learn. Getting tired of this, he rubbed his eyes, repositioned his glasses, and quickly wrote down the notes on the board. He had been so focused on ignoring them, they were all they could think about. Maybe Roman wasn’t so self-centered as people had said…

After his class, he drove to his job and got ready to deal with customers. Soon enough, he saw Virgil walk into the coffee shop. Of course. Logan wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to deal with this today, but he had to. As Virgil was fumbling over the amount he had to get, Logan hoped there wouldn’t be small talk. But then again, from what he gathered, Virgil was quieter than the others and just liked getting social things over with.

“Have a nice day,” Logan called out after handing Virgil his change.

“Uhh,” Virgil took a second to look at Logan’s name tag, then recognized exactly who it was. “Oh! You too, Logan…” It was obvious that he wanted to say more but was much too anxious. So, he walked away.

Well, that wasn’t so bad… It was becoming clearer that these four weren’t as bad as he’d been told. Logan decided to head to the library and return some books he picked up about space. Well, they had been interesting, he wasn’t sure whether or not Dimitri was working that day. He told himself he didn’t want to see him, Logan was secretly hoping they could intertwine paths. It was a stupid idea to go to the library when he still had a week until the books were overdue but he went anyways.

“Hello lovely, returning some books today?”

Oh, right. There was Dimitri. Logan just handed the books to him and attempted to walk off. But, it seemed that Dimitri was much bolder than Virgil. “You’re the kid Roman mentioned to me, right? He seemed to leave out that you actually go outside from time to time.”

“It would-” Logan pushed up his glasses, catching Dimitri rolling his eyes. “It would be unwise to remain indoors, that is incredibly harrowing for one’s health.”

“The way you talk is totally not ridiculous, bbbut, you have a point I suppose.” Dimitri gave a smirk that attempted to be called a smile. “It would be harrowing if you held up the line any longer. I hope to see you soon, love.”

Logan blinked back in surprise and decided to go home. Why were the four deciding NOW to talk to him? Was it because he had made a conscious decision to avoid them? Apparently so. His drive home was uneventful until he saw the people in the parking lot of the complex. “Oh, this is unfortunate.” He saw Patton greeting Roman, Virgil, and Dimitri out of a car… This wasn’t going to be pleasant.

He quickly turned off his car and rushed to his apartment with his keys already in hand. But, it was frivolous as Logan heard his name being called. This time, from Patton. He had always been kind to Logan, but the rumors surrounding them scared him. Apparently, they’ve threatened to murder a kid, set a bathroom on fire, and scare even the teachers. But, Patton and the others ran up to him.

“Hello, Logan!” Patton called with a smile across his face. “Would you like to hang out at my place with us? We ordered pizza and we’re going to play Apples to Apples!”

“Ughh, I thought we decided on Candyland?” Roman complained. “You have to admit that game is a gift from the gods!”

“But Cards Against Humanity would be so much funnier,” Virgil added.

“Couldn’t we do Trail to Oregon? It is the EASIEST, after all.” Dimitri questioned, with a smirk appearing on his face as the others disagreed with him.

Logan couldn’t hold back a slight smile on his face. Whatever relationship these four had, it seemed wonderful. He almost wished to be a part of it. So, without overthinking for once, he decided to join them. It turned out they were playing all the games suggested. Patton seemed to enjoy all of them equally, while the others play-fought in the background.

Why did this group seem so perfect despite being called the spawn of Satan? Logan really wanted to ask. But, should he? He was sitting on the floor of Patton’s living room, holding the greasiest pizza he’d ever eaten, pondering quietly to himself. Virgil noticed something was off and scooted next to him.

“Are you okay dude? Sorry, Patton pushed you into this. He just likes everyone.” Virgil gave a small laugh and got up. “You wanna soda? We have Dr. Pepper anddddd Fanta, ew.”

“I’m satisfied without one.” Logan declined.

“Sooooo, you’re getting a Dr. Pepper.” Roman grabbed one and threw it at Logan. “There aren’t any acceptions if you do a game night with us.” He caught the drink with his left hand, causing Patton to give mini applause.

Dimitri walked out of the bathroom. “Roman, dear, I prepared the chair so we can do makeup.” Roman gave a happy little squeal and ran up to him. They shared a quick hug. “I know, I’m simply the worst for thinking of this. Would you like to have your makeup done, Logan?”

“You don’t have to.” Virgil inserted with a small smile.

“Virgil’s right kiddo, but you would look so pretty with makeup on. I mean, you’re already pretty, but you would ALSO look good with makeup.” Patton added, slightly stumbling over his words.

Logan felt inclined to say yes almost immediately, regardless of the fact he had never worn makeup before. That would change tonight. So he agreed and they all moved to the bathroom. Even Virgil put on some makeup, which according to Roman, was a rare occasion. It was much more enjoyable to have someone put eyeshadow and eyeliner on you than Logan had originally thought it was going to be. Of course, Dimitri and Roman were the only ones that could actually accomplish the art of makeup.

After it was finished, Logan peered at a mirror in confusion. He looked rather good for once. It was a change he wasn’t sure he was used to. Then he looked at Dimitri trying to stop Patton from fidgeting so he could work and saw Roman trying to calm down Virgil when he accidentally moved and ruined the makeup. It seemed chaotic but perfect. Logan hoped he could be a part of it one day.

“Logan! Please hold down Patton. He insists to be unmanageable.” Dimitri cried, holding back his products from reach.

“I’m sorry, Dee, it’s just been a long time since someone else has wanted to hang out with us!” Patton explained, grabbing hold of Logan’s arms. Logan didn’t pull back but felt incredibly awkward. Has it really been such a worry to Patton that’d he wouldn’t gain any friends? It made him guilty for avoiding them for so long. “Logan, thanks for joining us!”

“Yeah, it’s… okay…” Logan found himself losing words. “However, I have obtained a question?”

“What question would that be?” Roman asked, reapplying Virgil’s eyeliner.

“Why does everyone seem to be fearful of you four? You all seem rather… delightful.” Logan was rather hesitant to ask but went straight to the point. It was counterproductive to sugar coat it, and he never really was good at wording things in a way to seem less offensive. “I apologize if that seems insensitive, I feel inclined to know why people would say such hateful lies.”

“Well…” Patton trails off. “They aren't exactly lying? Some of them are, yes, but not the fire thing and that one death threat.”

“To put it simply, it was Roman’s fault.” Virgil deadpanned, causing a gasp from who he was talking about.

“I didn’t mean to leave the curling iron near the sink, okay?!”

“I also don’t believe it was his fault when he beat up my ex and Patton threatened to kill him if he ever talked to me again,” Dimitri commented. Logan couldn’t believe his ears, but then again, what was he even expecting them to say? Of course, there were logical explanations to the rumors. “Let’s not forget that Virgil was the one to figure out where my ex even was to start this assault thing anyways…”

“I… apologize for making assumptions.” Logan stutters, and Patton gives him a reassuring smile. He seemed way too kind to give someone a death threat, but he knew he shouldn’t underestimate any of these people.

“Oh, that’s fine. At least you asked about it instead of silently holding grudges against us…” Roman smiled like he was remembered something unpleasant and covering it up. He then jumped off the counter and kissed Virgil’s hand. “I finished, you look lovely.”

Virgil gave a laugh. Dimitri spent a few more minutes on Patton’s makeup while Roman did his own. Once Dimitri was finished, Logan helped Patton up. He didn’t even realize how long he spent holding his hands. Usually, he hated physical contact but felt strangely calm here. Dimitri had decided he didn’t want to have his makeup that night. So by request from Roman, they all agreed to sit down and watch The Lion King. All of them ended up entangling together. Logan was being held by Roman, holding Virgil’s hand, Patton was leaning on him, and Dimitri was on top of Logan and Roman.

Patton was the first to fall asleep, then Roman, next Dimitri, and Logan and Virgil talked a little bit before both passing out due to exhaustion.

In the morning, Logan had received more hugs than he could count. And he actually enjoyed getting affection from them. It was sort of plan leaving back to his apartment next door. He left the sleepover with the numbers of the four and promises to hang out more. It seemed boring without Roman or Patton screeching in the background of calm conversations with Dimitri and Virgil. Logan happened to be the last to leave too. He helped Patton pick up the room quietly.

“I send my gratitude to you for inviting me for this… sleepover.”

Patton laughed lightly. “Of course, they all seemed to like you. I hope you’ll come to next week’s?” Logan blinked a bit and pushed up his glasses.

“This sort of thing is a weekly occurrence?” Logan asked. “And you are asking me to partake in this event that seems rather meaningful to you?”

“Yes, kiddo. Roman even told me he’d like to do your makeup again. Dimitri even liked hanging out with you, and that surely must mean something! And Virgil always seems to stay up during these and he actually got some sleep. It would be an honor to have you come over again!”

And with that, Logan started hanging out with the four he was told to avoid. They really were a lovely group of people. And Logan felt grateful to be a part of it. Truly wonderful. After a few weeks of attending the sleepovers, he was approached by all four of them at once. They all seemed to have one specific thing on their minds.

Logan felt himself fill with fear. This was it, they probably didn’t like him anymore. Of course, this didn’t sound logical, but he was still afraid. Would they tell him to stop talking to them? Or go back to being alone all of the time and have to stop asking Dimitri or Roman for makeup tips?

“Hey Logan, we have a question for you!” Roman said like he could hardly contain his excitement.

“Don’t worry, there it isn’t anything bad,” Virgil reassured, causing Logan to breathe a little bit. At least it wouldn’t ruin this group for him.

“So, you may know that we’re a polyamorous relationship and we wanted to ask…” Patton looked at Dimitri to finish the question, causing him to roll his eyes and gain a smirk.

“Would you like to be apart of the relationship? You would be dating all of us if you agree, and since we’re such lovely people.” Dimitri finished. “You can continue going to the sleepovers if you say no too, that’s still allowed.”

“I…” Logan paused to think. He did like all of them quite a bit and he couldn’t think of any reason to say no at the top of his head. “I would love to.” Patton decided this was a good time to scream ‘group hug’ and they all piled on top of each other.

Logan smiled a little as he listened to the laughs of the others. This was perfect.

[dlwritings]

Direct Order | Peter Parker

masterlist found here

pairing - Peter x Avenger!reader word count - 1,395 warnings - A/N - I wrote this for @angelwrote‘s 1k writing challenge | situational prompt 4 | “I’ve never seen anything like the way you handled that. I’m just so moved”

summary - When a child is found wounded after a battle, Peter insists on going with him to the hospital. Even when he’s wanted elsewhere, Peter knows the right decision from the wrong one. And god, (Y/N) loves him for that.

Being an Avenger was a big responsibility. There were a lot of rules to follow and it was essential to know the right choice from the wrong one. It wasn’t just saving people left and right. It was making sure you were doing the right thing every step of the way.

What you and the other Avengers quickly realized was that the right decision wasn’t always the easiest decision.

Steve once said, “We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everyone.” And yes, that was true, but it didn’t mean it was easy. Why couldn’t everyone always be saved? Why was the world so unkind?

Saving innocent civilians was always a high priority to you. It was always an obvious decision. If you can’t protect the people fighting, protect the ones who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. And usually it was a relatively simple job. Wanda could get into peoples’ heads and convince them to evacuate the area and the rest of the team was quick and strong, capable of pushing and pulling people out of the way of danger.

But obviously, it didn’t always work. Buildings crumbled and robots took over cities and aliens invaded states and, just like Steve said: sometimes you can’t save everyone.

A battle against Hydra to rescue some SHIELD hostages got out of hand. The fight went to the streets, Hydra using their enhanced soldiers against the Avenger’s superhumans. Once the dust cleared and the Avengers claimed their victory, the team went out into the city to find wounded civilians. It was a routine job, one that never had a very happy ending.

You and Peter were walking side by side, lifting debris and weaving in and out of buildings, chatting about fighting strategies. You were coming up empty on civilians, feeling pretty good about the results of the fight. Just when you were about to retreat to the jet, Peter held out a hand to stop you. “What is it?” you asked him. You lifted your gun on high alert, ready to protect yourself and Peter in case a loose Hydra agent was still running around.

“I hear something,” he said. You listened carefully but could only hear the sounds of the city around you.

“Peter-“

The super boy ignored you and leapt over a pile of broken concrete, quickly crouching out of sight. Confused, you followed him and found him squatting beside a kid no older than five. The boy was trembling, bleeding from his shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks. “What-“

“He got caught in the crossfire,” Peter said, cutting you off. “He needs a doctor now.” Peter lifted the boy carefully in his arms. You were shocked at how calm the child was. You wondered how long he had been crying before he was found.

You and Peter walked to the medics, Peter talking calmly to the boy (Jamie) in his arms. “I had heard that the bravest boy in all of Manhattan was here today,” Peter said, “but I had no idea I’d get to meet him.” Jamie gave a weak smile, resting his head on Peter’s chest. He looked so small. Peter continued to chat to Jamie, assuring him that he would be fine and that his parents (both safely at work in Queens) would be so proud of him for being so brave.

“Will you go to the doctor with me?” Jamie asked Peter, looking up at him hopefully.

“Of course,” Peter said with no hesitation. Immediately, a voice rang out in the coms.

“Peter, I need you and (Y/N) to keep sweeping for civilians,” Director Fury said. Peter shook his head even though Nick obviously couldn’t see. He didn’t want Jamie to hear.

You and Peter got to the ambulance and let the medics take Jamie. “Director,” Peter said into the com, “I told the kid I’d go with him. With all due respect, the rest of the team can handle the civilian check on their own.”

“I’m giving you a direct order, Peter,” Nick said sternly.

“No!” You and Peter turned your heads at Jamie’s cry. The medics were loading him into the ambulance. “Spider-Man said he’d come with me! No! Please! Spider-Man!” Peter looked at you before hanging his head.

“And I’m directly ignoring the order,” Peter said. “You know where to find me.” He shut off his com, waved at you, and jumped into the back of the ambulance, closing the door behind him.

You saw him take off his mask before the vehicle was out of sight.

When the rest of the team got back to the compound, Peter had yet to arrive. You showered and changed out of your suit and into pajamas. You sat yourself on the couch in the TV room and turned on the news. Pictures of the battle swept the screen, most of the team and Hydra fighting but some of scared civilians. It made you think of Jamie. You wondered how-

Before you could even finish your thought, Peter walked in looking exhausted. He didn’t even take off his suit before he sat next to you on the couch. “He lost a lot of blood,” Peter said before you could even ask. “But he’s okay. Shaken up, but okay.”

“And you?” you asked. Peter sighed and laid his head on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly.

“Director suspended me for a week,” he mumbled. “It could’ve been worse. He was not happy I disobeyed a direct order.”

“Yeah why did you disobey the direct order?” you asked him. Peter was always one to follow the rules, especially if they came from the director.

Peter sat up and shrugged, tugging his own fingers through his hair. “Direct order or not, he wasn’t making the right call,” he said simply. “I told Jamie I would go with him. He needed a hero. He was all alone. So I made the call. I decided that the way that kid perceived the Avengers for the rest of his life was more important than an order from Director Fury.”

“Why did you take off your mask?”

Again, Peter just shrugged. “He was scared. I thought I could calm him down better as Peter than as Spider-Man.”

You looked at Peter, your head tilted slightly. You had always been in love with the boy, but something about that moment made the feelings even stronger than before. His heart was so big and he acted on what he thought was right, not what everyone else told him. It was risky but admirable. You assumed a part of him would always be looking out for the little guy.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Peter asked, snapping you out of her trance.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I just, I’ve never seen anything like the way you handled that. I’m moved.”

“Moved?” Peter teased.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, shoving his arm slightly. Peter laughed and laid his head on your shoulder again. You immediately resumed playing with his hair. “You need a shower,” you said softly. “You smell.”

“Just let me lay here a little longer,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Your hand froze and Peter’s eyes, which had been peacefully closed, shot open. “I meant, I, I mean I love when you do that,” he stuttered. “As in, I love when you, when you play with my hair. I love yo- IT! I love it! Jesus Christ.”

“Pete,” you giggled, nudging him off your shoulder. He sat up and looked at you. You felt like your cheeks were on fire, but you were happy. In fact, happy probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. “I love you, too.”

“You do?” he said, his face lighting up and his nerves appearing to vanish.

“Yeah,” you laughed. Hadn’t it been obvious?

You expected him to say something or take a moment to laugh over the moment but instead, Peter quickly pressed his lips against yours, laying his hands on your cheeks. You smiled beneath the kiss and tugged his curls through your fingers. When you both pulled away, foreheads resting against each other’s, neither of you could open your eyes for a moment. When you did, you did it simultaneously. No words needed to be spoken.

He kissed you again.

[reddeaddenial]

1 of the SENTENCE STARTERS for Theo! 💓

Lol Damn u crushin on him hard. Ok any one of the starters huh? Hmmm~

12. “i’m pretty good at providing distractions.”Theodore sighed contently as he lay back in the tub, his scalp being messaged by a very lovely lady by the name of Clara. He hadn’t had a nice bath like this in a while, having been running about with his brothers and Ed, following along to the old man’s brilliant thieving shenanigans. But aside from getting a little too ripe to his liking, he also needed to take a break away from his dear siblings. Or rather Nick who getting cranky again. 

“You’re scowling again silly~” Clara pulled him out of his thoughts with a giggle, gently tapping the crease of his furrowed brow. “You’re gonna look like for permanently if you keep it up. C'mon, relax and stop thinking about the stressful things.“ 

Theo did just that and relaxed, flashing a smile to the pretty brunette. "My apologies, ma'am. I’d never mean to have my thoughts wander, ‘specially when I have such beautiful company in front of me~” The comment did the trick, having sweet Clara blush and giggle playfully. 

“Just was thinkin’ bout the issues back at the ranch. M'brother’s and I are the newest workers right? And the owner of the property has taken a bit of likin’ to us all and the other ranch hands that been there longer don’t really ‘preciate that. But they’ve been given us a lil hell lately. Mainly my big brother, he gets antagonized the easiest. And his grumpiness kinda fouls up the air y'know? So i needed to get away and find myself in much more sweeter company for a while. But I guess even here, m'thoughts keep going back to my problems, knowin’ I can’t run from em." 

Clara hummed and worked on washing his arms, gently tracing the scars from old fights. "Well, I don’t know much of the situation but it sounds like maybe them other ranch hands just don’t think you deserve the attention ya get. Maybe you can find a way ta prove your skills to em. Impress em. Or at least get your brother on board so he can take all that anger and put it to somethin’ useful." 

"Now that… Ain’t a bad idea.” Theodore said, feeling a bit stupid. “Guess I was overthinkin’ it with all the dramatics goin’ on back there. Smart and beautiful~ Anythin’ you can’t do Miss Clara?" 

Clara blushed for what felt like the hundredth time since she entered the room to help assist the hotel guest. "Oh you damn flatterer Mr.Teale, don’t be puttin me on a pedestal an’ all that. There’s lotsa things I can’t do. Leave this damn dust town would be one a them.”“Ah, big dreams of movin’ on to them fancy cities? I think you’d do well there." 

"Sorta. My sister lives up in New York but I need to save up money to pay off a few things and then get enough to pay for travelin’ that far. It’s too long and tirin’ for a wagon, especially on my own. Dangerous y'know? So I’ve been thinkin’ of doin’ a train but I swear, only the fancy ones do the longer trips and I can’t afford that. Oh! Reminds me, I heard one of them fancy trains is gonna be passin’ through our little station in a few days." 

Ah there we are! He always loved visiting the ladies of these establishments. They were so eager to have a conversation about one thing or another that it only some time before he got at least one goof tip for a new job. "Oh? It one of them Cornwall trains?”

“Naw, some big name from far West. Like California West.”

“Hmmm… That sounds like it might be… Saxton owned if I’m recallin’ correctly.”

“Yeah that’s the name! Dunno why they’re passin through our lil Arkansas town for but it is what it is. I do know the kids in town will be flockin’ to that station when it passes through, to watch it like some silly two cent show.”

Now this… This what very interesting information. Robbing a train was always risky business. But Theo and his brothers… They knew Saxton trains, knew how they were built up and designed, how many security and passengers were usually on board. The wealth they carried… And it would be perfectly fitting too. Robbin’ dear ol’ Father’s train, just the three of them. And they could do it with three people he was sure. He’d run it by Leo first of course before pitching it to Nick. Being the most paranoid of the three, Nicky never liked doing anything unless it was cleanly planned out. But it could work. Had to. It would definitely shut the boys up back at camp. He realized Clara was talking again and he quickly tuned back in like the proper gentleman he use to be.

“Ah but listen to me ramble on! I got a job to do and I keep gettin’ distracted!”

 Theo flashed a mischievous grin. “Aw what can I say? I’m pretty good at providing distractions~ But I can behave like a good boy if that helps.”

Clara gave a suggestive smile and leaned over more than needed to brush up against his damp skin as she washed the soap off his other arm. Seemed the flirtatious tension since the beginning of the bath was finally at a breaking point. Theodore definitely was not complaining, never did when the offer was on the table.

“I never said I didn’t like bein’ distracted." 

Now that’s the words he loved to here. Theo chuckled and leaned in close in return, a breath apart from each other as he spoke softly against her. "Well then Ma'am.. Mind if I take up some more of your time?" 

She definitely did not mind.—- 

hhh i didn’t know where to end this exactly, also cuz i wrote this at work so i had to keep it sfw lmao 

[kensingtcns-blog]

( CHARLIE HUNNAM, MALE, HE/HIM ) —— [ BENJAMIN KENSINGTON ] is a [ THIRTY-FIVE ] year old that has been part of the [ HEATHENS ] for [ FIVE ] years. They have been working as a [ GUARD ]. The people in Boulder say that [ HE ] is [ CUNNING ] but also [ RECKLESS ]. Lets see what this wasteland has in store for them.

*uberhaxornova voice* alright helLO ( watch, no one else knows who that is ) its me, ur new resident trash queen & angst n pain lover, caitlyn. i’m 23 and i live in cst so like ?? yeah hi hello how are ya’ll ?? this is my baby benjamin that’s actually ?? a hot ass mess lmao ?? under this is a basic af bullet point bio, personality traits n stats & the three headcanons!! i’m so ridiculously excited to be here as well so that made my rambling worse ?? just like it is right now jfc okay i’ll stop. anywHO i’ve got a basic af list of wanted connections for him right HERE & i'll be working on making an actual bio for him over the next few days!! if you wanna plot w this hot ass mess, just like this or hop into my IMs bc i cannot wait to plot with all ya’ll!!

( TW: mentions of death, cancer, alcohol & weapons. )

BIOGRAPHY

was born and raised in denver, which means he’s always had a love for colorado.

ben’s the oldest of two siblings, his sister being ten years younger than him.

raised by two v loving parents who gave the pair everything they could have every wanted.

however, his mother did from breast cancer when he was 12 and that heavily impacted his father.

causing the older male to teach ben that having feelings wasn’t a good thing and that ben should bottle up everything because he wouldn’t get hurt that way.

something that ben took to heart and kept with him all throughout school.

speaking of, ben did really well in school, graduated at the top of his class and decided he wanted to go into the medical field.

so he did, went to medical school and started learning how to become a surgeon & to his surprise, he was really frickin good at it.

& along the way, he happened to fall head over heels for another student who was there to be a registered nurse. something his father frowned upon due to what’d happened to ben’s mother, but it was something his father quickly began to accept because he saw just how good the two were for each other.

ben ended up proposing to her about a year after they started dating & she said yes so they had a small courthouse wedding surrounded by loved ones... and a few months later they found out that she was pregnant.

this drove ben to be even more dedicated to his job because he wanted to be able to raise his son like his parents had raised him.

nine months later, along came his son and ben’s world quickly started revolving around that baby.

but all of that came to a screeching halt the second the virus hit.

benjamin knew that they had to get out of a populated city, so he packed his wife, his son, his father and his sister up and they were gone by sunlight.

however, his father and sister ended up getting separated from them and he didn’t know where they could have gone, even though he searched for days to find them.

things were okay for the first few month or so, they’d taken enough food to last from their home and the store but with an infant, keeping those supplies in stock wasn’t the easiest thin in the world and soon enough, ben found himself having to go out and search for formula and things like that.

those trips usually went pretty smooth, making sure his wife and son were safe before leaving them for a few hours. however, the one time he happened to be gone longer than a few hours was the one time they weren’t safe at all.

he came back to find both of them gone, something that hit him in the chest so hard that he sat in that buildings for nearly two days just waiting and hoping they’d just moved to somewhere more safe.

but all the hoping and waiting wouldn’t make up for the fact that they’d been taken from him.

this caused him to start being reckless, to go down this dangerous path that he figured would get him killed.

but not only did he do that, he started to have to figure out how to survive on his own. he didn’t have anyone, which meant he’d have to figure out how to shoot a gun, how to hold a knife, how to protect and fend for himself.

so he did, finding guns and ammo that’d been left behind by people, practicing by lining up the numerous alcohol bottles he’d killed off days before and firing into them.

sure enough, he seemed to be a natural with that and with knives.. or a natural for violence in general. he liked the feeling, and it wasn’t something he was going to deny anymore.

& he didn’t deny it one bit. if he met people, he’d resort to violence and threats faster then he could blink an eye because he didn’t trust them, didn’t trust anyone but himself with the feelings he now kept bottled up.

fast forward to about five years later, ben runs into a group that calls themselves the heathens and they instantly catch his interest.

offering him food, water, anything that was needed and gave him purpose.. something he hadn’t had in years. not since he lost his wife and son.

he took the offer almost instantly and has been a guard for them ever since.

PERSONALITY.

hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.

doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him.

is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.

has a motorcycle and it’s his baby..

a hot mess

fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at meetings with patients.

lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s not the complete asshole role that he plays on a daily basis and is actually a very hurt person bc if people started realizing that, he’d have to start feeling again and tbh, he don’t wanna do that.

is the biggest flirt you will ever meet??

will try to either get u to drink w him or take ur alcohol.. there's a v thin line between the two options tbh.

super, super intelligent but keeps that on the dl ?

he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.

is a highkey hoe but he also keeps it on the dl

super into keeping fit as it’s a way to keep his mind from wandering onto subjects such as his wife and son. so he’ll like ?? find random shit to use as a homemade gym ??

still wears his wedding ring but wears it on his middle finger so that know one knows the real story behind it.

also keeps a photo of his wife at baby boy in his leather jacket.

actually super loyal and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall??which is really hard to do due to his job but if u do it he’ll cherish u.

has a bad habit of smoking so he looks for packs of cigs like ?? everywhere he goes.

is actually super open to teaching other people how to fight / use weapons because it's fun for him but acts like it'll kill him to do so.

is a burnt cupcake who has really good intentions but has horrible execution skills.

HEADCANONS

Benjamin was raised solely by his father, who taught him that most emotions were bad things to feel or to talk about. Meaning that he usually hides all other emotions other than anger and lust. Which means that most people see him as an asshole, something that Benjamin is actually fully okay with because in his mind, having people view him in that light is far easier than having to address and/or deal with his feelings. But that doesn’t mean that Benjamin is unable to feel any other emotions other than anger or lust, but he does keep a wall up around him that not a lot of people can break down. If you can break past that wall, though, you’ll find that Ben is far from the ‘asshole’ character he likes to play.

( TW: mentions of death ) Before the virus broke out, Benjamin was actually going to medical school, hoping to be one of the best surgeons in Colorado, maybe even the United States. However, the virus took his wife and son from him and it caused him to break, causing him to give up on the little bit of hope he had left and away from the 'helper’ path he’d be heading down. Instead he found himself becoming extremely reckless, loving everything about violence and danger. He started doing things that his old self would have hated and not caring about the fact that it was risky, that he could easily get hurt or lose his own life in the process. But in all honesty? He doesn’t care about his own well-being, letting the grief that still sits deep in his soul cause him to drift towards dangerous things.

( TW: mentions of weapons. ) Due to him being on his own for a few years before he found The Heathens, Benjamin had to learn how to survive in the toughest ways possible. Meaning that whenever he ran into other survivors, he rarely trusted any of them and if it came to it, he’d resort to violence to get what he needed to survive, food, weapons, whatever it was. Not to mention the fact that he had to teach himself how to use knives, guns and anything else that could have been considered a weapon, how to hunt for the food needed to survive and how to deal with the infected anytime he happened to stumble upon them. After a few years of that, though, he started figuring out that maybe the life of survival and violence was something that he was rather good at, and something he really enjoyed as well. Which was the beginning of him turning from the 'helper’ he wanted to be before the virus hit to someone who’s actually rather selfish.

STATISTICS.

full name: benjamin rhys kensington.

nickname(s): ben, benji (used by his wife mostly).

age: thirty-five.

date of birth: october 31st.

zodiac sign: scorpio.

place of birth: denver, colorado.

gender: cis-male.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

religion: n/a.

occupation: guard for the heathens.

language(s) spoken: english, french, spanish, welsh, russian, korean, japanese, italian, romanian, greek, gaelic and bulgarian.

accent: american.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: charlie hunnam.

hair color: blonde.

eye color: blue.

height: 6′ 1″.

weight: 225 lbs.

build: athletic.

PERSONALITY / TRAITS.

label: the cataclysmic.

positive traits: cunning, adventurous, intelligent, charming, loyal & brave.

negative traits: reckless, hedonistic, cocky, impulsive, flirtatious & closed off.

FAMILY

father: gideon james kensington. ( undetermined. )

mother: marie ann williams-kensington. ( deceased. )

siblings: a younger sister ( undetermined. )

TESTS.

myers-briggs: estp-a

enneagram: type 8 ( the challenger. )

moral alignment: lawful evil. ( the dominator. )

temperament: choleric.

hogwarts house: slytherin.

[oumakokichi]

Hello!! Sorry if you've already talked about this before, but do you have any thoughts on Tenko? o/ I love your blog!

I don’t think I’ve ever actually answered a question justabout Tenko herself! Thank you so much for asking, anon!

As with fanart, it’s hard to find content of Tenko just onher own. I love, absolutely love herwith Himiko as a ship, and I find her interactions with some of the othercharacters very fun or sweet, but I really wish there were more appreciation forher on her own. It’s true that she perhaps doesn’t get the most time to standalone even within canon, but still. I love Tenko, and I feel like withcharacters who make similar sacrifices like Kaede and Momota, it’s important toremember Tenko as being really great all around and appreciating her as acharacter in her own right.

Tenko is a character I know a lot of people were wary aboutprior to the game’s release, although without much to go on. Her design wascute but there wasn’t much that really stood out or indicated her talent, andher lines from the first few trailers and her likes/dislikes released with thedemo just indicated that she really didn’t like men.

What I was primarily concerned with prior to the game’slaunch was that she might get relegated to some kind of joke character—not inthe same way that I was worried about Ryouma getting treated as a jokecharacter because of his design, but mostly because I thought that if theytouched on her dislike of men at all, it would be in a way to try and make theplayers hate her, view her as an “unreasonable” or “stuck-up” character, andmostly all-around try to treat her as some kind of joke character who wouldneed to be “put in her place” or “taught” to open up to men after all.Thankfully, this is not what happened at all, and I’m so, so glad every day.

Tenko is one of the fairest, easiest-to-get-along-withmembers of the group. She treats pretty much everyone respectfully, and she’s ateam player through and through; her personal boundaries extend to not wantingmen to compliment her or touch her at all, and these things are regarded aspretty understandable by the rest of the cast. Even when her reactions to “DANshi”result in hilarious expressions and perhaps a few exaggerated outbursts playedfor comedic effect, she’s clearly well-liked by Kaede, by Saihara, and by prettymuch the whole group at large.

Even her honorifics reflect her sense of fair play. Unlikemany of the cast, who use “-kun” for boys and “-san” for girls as a staple,Tenko is one of the only ones besides perhaps Kirumi who uses “-san” for both.If she truly were trying to be mean or aggressive to boys only, then she’d useno honorifics at all, or some sort of rude and insulting nickname for each ofthem individually (the way Miu uses rude nicknames for the entire group at large,not just boys).

I’m glad for this, because it’s clear that by making Tenkowell-liked and a staple of moral and emotional support for the group, she wasn’tmeant to be a joke character of any sort. She’s highly encouraging to anyone atall who’s been upset or traumatized. While there’s no denying she’s much morecomfortable around the girls in the group, and that she particularly reallylooks up to and wants to be around Himiko, with less-aggressive orless-irritating boys in the group like Saihara, or Gonta, or Kiibo, she’s quitepolite, and very supportive to them.

And at the same time, while Tenko is undeniably a goodperson, I liked that she still had flaws of her own. Not huge, glaring flaws oranything, but just normal flaws that any ordinary person struggling to do theirbest might have. I still feel like ndrv3 did such a good job, better than anyDR installment in the past, with making the whole cast of characters feelparticularly more balanced and less one-sided. The characters who die early onin dr1 and sdr2 are certainly likable, but in my opinion, it was always alittle hard to get a feel for them. If you asked me to explain what flaws someof them had besides “being a little clumsy” or “too loud” prior to readingtheir FTEs or school mode, I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

But with Tenko, a huge part of her character arc, and ofHimiko’s, was the fact that Tenko’s protective streak was also precisely whatwas pushing Himiko away. Since very early on, Tenko was thrilled with the prospectof Himiko’s talent, and clearly foundher very cute and funny to be around. Himiko was someone who inspired such aprotective urge in her that she wanted to be around her more and more, and sheclearly wanted to inspire her to get out and have fun and maybe be a littlemore open with her emotions.

But she came on so strongly that there’s no denying Himikowas a little uncomfortable at first. Someone as introverted as Himiko onlyfound Tenko’s attempts to draw her out of her shell tiring—and more thananything, Tenko’s insistence that she could protect her from anything andeverything, and her attempts to make sure Himiko was never in danger or doinganything too risky or outside her comfort zone kind of miffed her, becauseHimiko has a definite urge to prove herself and show off a bit preciselybecause of how small and seemingly helpless she is.

This kind of overprotective, somewhat coddling behavior is areally believable, understandable flaw, and something I think we’ve all been guiltyof at some point or other. I feel like there’s plenty of times for most peoplewhere we maybe assume too much about someone else’s abilities or don’t quitethink before trying to do something for them. And even if we don’t have any badintentions, it still hurts the other person, and I like that this kind ofbehavior was something that was addressed with Tenko.

And her good intentions were also addressed, and it wasclear that despite the fact that she sometimes came on a little too strongly orwas perhaps too smothering in her attempts to protect Himiko at first, shereally, genuinely cared, and she wanted to be Himiko’s friend in the truestsense of the word (and also her girlfriend). Tenko realized in the Chapter 2trial what a lot of characters in ndrv3 took much longer to realize: thatdoubting someone is perhaps sometimes necessary, but that trust is all aboutcoming to a conscious decision to believe in someone even after doubting them.

Tenko was killed off too early for my liking, and just aswith Kaede, I would have loved to see her take a more central role in the plotor receive more development, but I am at least glad that she was such a lastinginfluence and presence on Himiko. Tenko’s sincerity and affection for Himikowere so obvious to the entire group at large, many of them specifically commenton her feelings for Himiko even after she’s gone, and Himiko herself carriesTenko with her in her heart and keeps going for her sake specifically eventhrough the worst scenarios.

In addition to all these really fantastic reasons to likeTenko too, the cherry on top for me was realizing that the dislike of men and notwanting them complimenting or touching her was thankfully really not played assome comic relief thing. I’ve yet to read translations of any of Tenko’s FTEs,but I know that even in the Chapter 2 trial, Tenko specifically has a lineinvolving the fact that her father was drunk, and that he yelled a lot, which strikesme as a strong implication that hewas probably verbally abusive at the very least.

Given Tenko’s interest in neo-aikido and its measures ofself-defense, I was really glad to see a female character with this kind ofabuse implied her past whose aversion to men wasn’t treated as somethingneeding to be “fixed” or “gotten over,” and that everyone pretty muchunderstood that she’d be polite and nice as long as her boundaries wererespected.

Tenko is great, and I adore her, and as with most of thecast, I really, really wish she’d lived to the end. Couples rarely ever getoutright confirmation in the DR franchise, let alone happy endings, but I’dhave loved to have seen some AU with himitenko both making it until the end andbeing if not entirely happy then at least somewhat comforted by having eachother around.

[opalmothnightingale]

The Bridge of This Transition

4- 20 - 18 - 

I might like to write more about, later,...  but I just wanted to mention for my focus and motivation and the clarity and the passion it brings me,...  The passion too in the sense of passion like suffering, yes, that too,...  compassion, too,...  it brings me the suffering with, which is good.  Good, and what I would choose.  Suffering with so that I will not be too overwhelmed by it all and then forget it,..

To forget what matters, which is to share and give and sacrifice as much as is reasonable, with my limitations and needs of my own that I have to care for, and with duties to my circle of nearest closest ones to my heart,...  Then other than that, yes, to choose to carry my weight, to take on the problems and help them, heal them, alleviate them, at least if I can, when I can...  Because that is what lfe’s all about, really,...  I say,... for me.  Small me, 

Me, willingly small.  Wanting to be small.  I want to be small, in this world, to be low...  Fame doesn’t suit me, money doesn’t suit me, power is like power among the crazy...  You have to be crazy to rise to power when the supporters are crazy.  Not to say you can’t give something big and be recognized,...

Wishing to be seen,... as super and special and yet, still be humble, still be small, but you have to still be humble and small, I think, in this world, ...

though, even if you’re seen as great, or you lose compassion,

... and so that would be a terrible loss in this crazy world that has so many who are 

....  Really, so deserving and needing compassion that you can give, as much as you reasonably can, given your needs and your limits, which are also in need of compassion, from you and others, but you first have to give yourself that...  Others might not but if you do, then you don’t need them to so much,...  It can be a lot of work to love and give yourself all that compassion and validation and keep on taking out the trash the others give you...  It is for me, and I imagine it would be the same for many who were traumatized, ostracized and all of that...  

I am now on a bridge, though, of the transition of our challenges, our crises, changes, tribulations and transformations,...  that also...  the bridge of this transition that includes all this, focused point, focused pain, coping and reaching and searching and trying to collect all my resources to cope, or find new ones.  Trying to be to the point so I don’t fritter and delay what needs doing any longer than I really must but don’t beat myself up for delaying and recuperating and addressing mental health needs that aren’t just indulgent or delusional or selfish or lazy or whatever other lies are so rampant regarding mental health, high functioning depression and high functioning anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder and sensory processing difficulties, and what have you.  

These things make it so that I have to be indulgent to cope, till I get to the root causes and address them, if I can find out what they are, if I can address them effectively, even if I do find what the causes are,...  And, of course taking as long as that needs to take.

So I’m addressing my physical and mental health issues, my daughter’s physical and behavioral and developmental things and my husband’s health issues and our relationship challenges and the traumas of my life and my ongoing challenging balance trying to see how I can get by, hanging in the balance, in society and being so alone and isolated by pretty much all society who doesn’t like me for who I am but only if I am like they want me,...  

And so it’s just nature, but I’m the ugly duckling, dears...  It’s a huge challenge.  It takes all I can to crawl and laze around and try,

...  To just try, to keep from falling spiraling deeper down into a pit of dark shadows, which often is averted with things like rest, relaxation and indulgence,...�� Yes, so that is actually really healing...  Is grounding, sensating, imaginative, heals the inner child for me, ...  And then it all brings me to the sensory moment, mindful and meditative, and the contemplative realizations, full and abundant and overflowing with new insights and angles to see it all, and also intense with the messages from spirit that come through when I feel pleasant and calm... 

Well that is why...  Yes, why rest and relaxation and indulgence are healing and not just selfish even though I wish I had the forthright focus, motivation, insight and wisdom and clarity to just seize it all, my goals, and do them,

...So I would like to seize it, carpe diem, be extraordinary, accomplished,...  adept and thrive, say I’m somehow better, look how I’m doing so good with my life... 

I know what I want to do, I want to live by integrity I could line out clearly what my values and ideals and compassion and greater good are and want to live by it...

Want to just, make all the emergencies dealt with quickly, but I am not the person for that job, because my own crises are a part of the problem, maybe even more serious than my husband’s.  For that matter, even, my symptoms might point to some serious health issue that might be worse than it seems, too...  I mean, you know, what can you do when you’re so tired, ...

so oppressed and don’t have the resources? 

Rest when tired, like the rabbit in its winter burrow, even though they’re impoverished and malnourished, the snow is too dangerous ....

Ah so risky, maybe,...  Yes, to venture out when the energy to venture is not sufficient to take you far enough that you would likely even find food...  

That is how it is,...  You wait till stuff improves and don’t blame anyone.  Life is like this for humans, sometimes, but modern western people like to think it is never really necessary for another modern western person to suffer like that, so they want to blame someone, so the easiest one to blame is the suffering depressed person...  right? 

I say, certainly, it is, I see again and again, nice caring people do this, fall for this...  It is easy to do, clearly, sadly, but truly, it is...  

Yes it is, if you can believe it, ... and, so, it’s easy for those to believe who have only a narrow distorted range of experiences or views of depression plus selective memory and social support of us vs. them thought, us upstanding ones vs. them lazy, careless depressed ones.  

Though it is so stupidly sad to me, but to no avail, this is the reality and I have to just be above it... 

I am above it, high beyond, unperturbable, and unreachable to it... 

Yes but there below me,... There I see them all...  I see, how high I am here, but down there, ...  I have to see the truth...  The truth...  but this is how it is for many people and what we depressive people and others who suffer like this, incapacitated, often face.  

Making it even harder is that many really don’t try hard enough, but it is hard to see who is trying and who’s not...  And even those who don’t try maybe have some inner problem that makes it so they feel that they can’t bring themselves to try...  I guess in some sense it’s always like this,... 

I wish I could say it was different, but it’s not... 

Because, but for people like me who have come so far and thrived and struggled, learnt so much about coping and do their best, it hurts to be told simplistic advice that might help someone who hasn’t learned yet how to try harder...  

Yes,...  And when they have no idea just the complex operation I have to go through to get through my days and they’re way behind me when it comes to “positive thinking”, but positive thinking is like a bandaid for the emotional deluge of my depressiveness that I can’t control, positive thinking notwithstanding...  Oh well...  And life goes on...

But the bridge of my husband’s health issues is bringing it all to a sort of culmination, a focal point around which I can find how to narrow all my concerns and needs and issues and goals and values to a range,...  that is manageable.  However hard and complex it still seems, I think I can do it.  

Yeah,...  It’s just that,... all of the motivation, the urgency, the clarity of what matters enough or more and what doesn’t matter as much, and maybe doesn’t matter enough and can or ought to be cut loose, delayed on the shelf for now,...  All is coming clear.  The many varied convoluted paths the future could take are narrowed down a bit too, because the near future is changed, the medium and longer range future also are altered in their probabilities however they could go any which way too, it’s not really sure yet.  

And so it is,... some of my dreamy roundabout focuses or preparing for the worst my husband could do are, kind of,... just set aside in the looming focus of his health issues that are likely to make things at least somewhat more predictable as well as more serious and hurry up, do it now kind of feeling and need to my life,,,,

and, our life, all three of us,... me, my husband and my daughter...  And being “morbid”, being “negative” suddenly is not even negative, nor morbid, not pessimistic to prepare for the worst at all, ...  not at all...  Not anymore,...  haha  Lol  Sigh.  

Absolutely not, no,... 

No,...  no! You can’t convince me it as anymore, at ALL...  Though some would still try to claim it’s negative, but I am not swayed or emotionally impacted much at all by their rigid light-blindedness in this particular set of situation,...

These circumstances that I am in with the bridge of the crisis and opportunity...  the crisis and courage, the crisis and transition,... and transformation...  Of all that’s going on now in our lives, with my husband’s health issues being the crux bringing it all up in stark contrast.

[errantheat]

Introduction; Nothingness

“So you see, you’re always at the place where you always are. And you think, ‘Wowee! A little further on we’ll get there. I hope we don’t go further down, so that we lose what we already have.’ But that is built into every creature’s situation, no matter how high, no matter how low. So in this sense all places are the same place and the only time you ever notice any difference is in the moment of transition. When you go up a bit, you gain. When you go down a bit, you feel disappointed, gloomy, lost. You can go all the way down to death. Somehow there seems to be a difficulty getting all the way up.” - Alan Watts, as sampled by Hayden Calnin -- I’ve been asked how old I am more times in the last two weeks than in the previous 6 months. A combination of a couple new people joining the team (age always comes up) and a mentor of mine forgetting how old I am. Strangely enough, I’ve had trouble remembering lately. 24, I’ll say. Then I’ll falter, and try to do the math again, because it doesn’t feel right. I feel so much older. -- Climbing has its own strange language. Perhaps the easiest thing to confuse as someone uninitiated into the jargon of climbing is the term free climbing. To free climb, you climb a route without aid, that is, without hanging on gear that people have placed as handholds or footholds. Not to be confused with free soloing, which is to climb a route without ropes that would generally be climbed with ropes. That is, to climb without a safety line. You fall, you die.

The most well-known free soloer these days is Alex Honnold. While his list of achievements is pretty damn impressive, the thing that’s most mind-blowing to me is his free solo of the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome. A 2000-foot climb. No ropes.

It’s a level of risk I can’t fathom. But Alex Honnold talks about it very differently than I’ve ever heard anybody talk about risk, and I’ve come to love it. He points out the difference between risk and consequence. Risk is the likelihood of failure. Consequence is what happens if you fail. In his mind, what he does is not risky. It carries great consequence, but because of his unfaltering trust in himself and his climbing abilities, he sees his activity as low-risk. -- I went on a date a couple months ago. She asked me what the riskiest thing I’d ever done was. I told her about the time I was rigging a high-ropes course and had completely forgotten to safety in. Here I was, standing on a 3/8″ steel cable thirty feet above the ground, with nothing to stop me from falling. Far from a fleeting mistake, I stayed on the cable for a good five minutes, finishing my rigging, before I returned to the tower to discover that I’d been completely untethered.

I’d forgotten that I was supposed to be scared. -- Ben Horowitz has said that the only two emotions that an entrepreneur ever feels are terror and euphoria. You’re either at your highest or your lowest. Success hinges on the ability to feel these things and promptly put them away. To ignore these feelings leaves you vulnerable to ignoring legitimate risk. But to feel them too intensely leaves you vulnerable to paralysis.

Climbing isn’t too different. As a boulderer, I rarely get above 15 feet off the ground, but when I do get on higher walls (roped in, I promise, Mom), as much as I would like to convince myself that there isn’t real danger and that I’m in complete control, the fear always creeps in.

Truthfully, I don’t think I would enjoy it if I didn’t feel that fear. Without fear, there’s no adrenaline, no need to rise above, no internal battle. -- In my earliest days in entrepreneurship, I experienced fear nearly constantly. I think I barely slept my first month on the job. I would get off work at 5, and it would take me another four hours to get my blood pressure down to an even mildly acceptable level.

It’s been a long time since then. Three years, to the day. -- On that date, she asked me next if I thought my job was risky. I answered, sheepishly, that no, I didn’t think it was risky because I arrogantly believed that there was nothing that could go wrong that we couldn’t fix.

I’ve forgotten how to be scared of it. -- Over the last couple weeks, the lack of fear has been gnawing at me. I’ve been tearing through climbing books, and they’ve reminded me how much I love risk. Adrenaline-pumping, heart-pounding, mind-numbing risk. Particularly in the outdoors. The mountains are calling. -- I used to look at free soloers and wonder what was wrong with them. I would put on my psychology hat and wonder at what angst they were trying to work out on the wall. How insane must they be? What are they trying to prove?

Where my hands used to sweat with anxiety at the thought of free soloing, they’ve started to sweat with excitement and anticipation. I’m beginning to see that free soloing isn’t about showing off, or working out some angst. It’s about going toe to toe with yourself and the wall, and seeing if you can truly live in that fear. I’ll probably never free solo anything. But I’ll also never again say that I don’t understand the allure of it. -- It’s been a long time since I’ve craved an adventure. Work always felt like as much as I needed on that front. But some days recently, it doesn’t feel that way. With increasing frequency, work feels like work.

Most of the time, that feeling is fleeting. I enjoy my job, and more than that, I love the people I work with. But there’s some piece of me, larger lately, that doesn’t want to clip in to a safety line anymore. That plans to wake up tomorrow, buy a van, and find the next adventure. -- Here’s to 25. And 35.