#i did *not* say anything because i probably shouldn't have been in the elevator at all

[astronauticalaspirations]

Pretty sure I rode in the elevator with an astronaut today.

[sunnyvelvet]

Time Together (Teen Titan!Dick Grayson!Robin x Reader)

A/N: Hello! He is an imagine from a time before that I am really proud of. Enjoy!

WC: 1,529

Original Link

It wasn't always easy, with him at the tower almost 24/7 and me working a full-time job. We still made it work. A lot of nights would end with him coming through my window and complaining that I shouldn't keep it open. I only kept it open for him, and he knew that. His time at my apartment was always content, gave him a reason to be out of that Goddamn suit. We would watch a movie or infomercials. Cuddled up together without a care, soft kisses and hand-holding being fairly common in these times. It was always something we looked forward too.

(Y/N)'s POV I had only been to the tower a handful of times. Mostly when everyone else on the team was out. He liked to keep me his secret, even though he had plenty of secrets from them. I understood though, not being in the "business" and all. He wants to keep me safe. It honestly surprised me when he texted me to come to the tower.

It was late as I crept to were Dick had said to meet him. It was probably 2 AM, thankfully I don't have work tomorrow. I was standing on a beach that was connected to the water that surrounded the tower. Getting fed up with waiting, I decided to start walking back to my car. I had parked it about four blocks away. As I started to walk back to it I heard my name. "(Y/n)! Wait!" It was Dick. "And I thought you weren't going to show up." I said with a smile on my face. I honestly was really happy to see him, even in full gear.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I got caught up in something." He smiled at me then engulfed me into a hug. I had to pull myself away from him. "So, what did you want to meet about out here?" I asked, very confused about why we were meeting here. "Well, I kinda have a surprise for you in the tower." He proceeded to scratch the back of his neck, "As long as we're quite we shouldn't wake anyone." I looked at him unsurely. Yes, I had been in the tower before but not when the team was there.

"I'm not sure Dick, should we really take that chance?" I stepped away from him as I said that. I really wasn't prepared to meet his team if someone does wake up. Especially at 2 AM! "It'll be fine (Y/N), we just got to sneak around till we get to your surprise." I agreed as we started to walk to the small motorboat he had taken from the tower to the small beach. Thankfully the engine wasn't too loud and we got to the tower without notifying anyone, I hope.

Once we were in the tower we took an elevator to a floor, I hadn't seen the number Dick pushed because he had me held in his arms so tight I could barely move. Once we got out of the elevator we walked slowly towards the end of the hall. He was, basically, dragging me down it. We got to a bathroom. "Umm, Babe..." I said trying to refrain from using his real name, "Why are we at a bathroom?" I laughed for a good minute before he just opened the door and walked in.

In the bathroom were candles lit and a bubble bath run for both of use. Flower petals were scattered on the floor and in the water. "Oh, wow!" That's all I could say as I stared at it in awe. "Do you like it? I thought it would be nice." He had a little bit of doubt in his voice. Like I wouldn't like it. "I love it." I moved over to him and gave him a kiss. Just a peck but enough to make his doubt go away. I started to stripe my clothes. Shoes, socks, shirt, and pants. I noticed Dick hadn't taken anything off yet.

"Are you going to join me or not?" I asked then proceeded to take my bra and panties off. I glanced at him as I walked towards the tub. He quickly took off his suit, wasting no time. He stepped into the tub and sat in front of me. "I thought we could relax together and your apartment doesn't have a tub," He started to talk about something else but all I could focus on was his face. He still had his mask on but I could tell he was excited to just be with me tonight.

I moved over so that I was sitting in between his legs. His arms going straight to my waist to hold me. We sat there for nothing but a few minutes, even though it felt like hours. Nothing was better than being in Dick's arms. He moved and grabbed a cup that was sitting next to the tub. "What are you doing?" I smiled while I looked at him, so confused. "I'm going to wash your hair. You know, like before." Oh, how you did know. When you still lived in Gotham with your Father/Mother, they would always leave for days on end for business. Dick would come over and stay with you.

We would always end up taking a bath. Mostly because we were both stressed and just need to be near each other. With him out fighting crime and me trying to get both of use though high school. I did most of his homework, I swear. I was always nice just be together, even just for a little bit. We would wash each other hair and talk about nothing. It was some of my favorite memories with him.

Dick started to pour some water onto my head, covering my eyes with his other hand. He did it multiple times before my whole head was wet. Continuing, he opened an unlabeled bottle and poured its contents onto his hand. As Dick scrubbed my scalp I leaned back into him. Relaxing a bit, noting that it smelled like strawberries. "Does it feel good?" All I could do was hum at him. To content to talk. Dick continued to wash my hair until he felt it was clean enough. Fishing the cup out of the water, he covers my eyes. "I don't want to get soap in them." He started to rinse my hair until all the suds were out of it. He pushed some of my hair away and kissed my cheek. I turned my head so I could kiss him. It turned a little heated but ended so I could tell him to turn around.

Now sitting facing him I took the cup from him. Quickly filling it up and pouring over his head. I smiled at him as I continued. "So, how are things around here?" It wasn't a question I asked often but I still liked to know sometimes. I poured some of the same strawberry shampoo he used on me into my hands. "It's the same I guess. Not a lot goes on." I knew that was bull but I didn't push the issue. I didn't really want to know what he would say if I do. I scrubbed his head as we sat in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it just silence we had gotten used to when being alone together.

Rising his hair, I realized that I had wrapped my legs around his waist. My ankles were even linked. When his hair was finally free of soap suds he leaned towards me and wrapped his arms around me. I did the same. We ended up staying in that position and just talked about little things.

It ended up being two hours later before we knew it. Time can really go by when you're with someone you love. We washed each other's bodies by then. I had my back to his chest laying in his embrace when we started to look at the time. "It's 4 AM, we should probably get out." He looked at me sadly, not wanting to leave yet. "I don't wanna." I stated, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. "I mean you could always stay for breakfast with me... And the team." The team...

"Fine." That's all I said before I stood up in the tub, grabbing a towel. I dried off and started to re-dress when Dick got out of the tub. I waited for him to get ready before leaving the bathroom, not wanting to get caught. "Let's get you back to your car."

We were both quite to the motorboat. We were honestly quite the whole way to my car. Dick had insisted to walk me to it. Now we were at it and I didn't know what to say. Great night, see you next week?! That wasn't really what I was looking for. "I love you (Y/N)." Dick said it so fast and so abruptly I almost did release he said anything. "I love you too Dick." I leaned in to kiss him and then I got into my car. Waving as I drove off.

[radiant-reid]

hotch starts making reader work harder, more reports and hours at the office and both her and spencer are confused but hotch asks to speak to reader alone and she goes in his office and he tells her shes up for a promotion or some other agency overseas wants her (or SOMETHING along those lines i obvi dk how it works) and readers nervous to tell spencer but immediately he agrees to move and shes like "youd uproot your entire career and life for mine if i get this promotion/job/whatever??" and hes just like "id do anything for you" 😩

You had almost done it.

You were just stepping out the glass door Spencer was holding open, almost able to taste the Thai food near his apartment, when Hotch called your name across the bullpen and you're forced to reroute.

It's been like this for almost two months, and you're so sick of it. You've been on the team for three years, but Hotch has suddenly decided you need to start staying late, doing more paperwork, and getting called back into his office. You love your job, but this new routine is getting annoying and it's a little bit hard not to resent Hotch.

"I'll wait by the elevator," Spencer assures you, walking in the direction you're both meant to be walking to go home and get takeout.

"I'll text if you shouldn't." You say, not feeling overly optimistic that your conversation with Hotch will wrap up quickly.

Your loving boyfriend, who probably would stay there for hours doing nothing, just smiles at you.

You make it up the stairs quickly and he's already sitting at his desk waiting for you. Penelope's right about it being a similar feeling to being called into the principal's office. When she had made the comment, Spencer, of course, denied it, citing all his favorite visits to his principal's office.

"What can I do for you?" You ask, trying to not sound sarcastic.

Thankfully, Hotch has never been one to beat around the bush. "The brass wants you to run the LA Field Office."

You can't control your shocked expression as your eyes widen at his words. It's not something you expected at all with where you are in your career. Even in your unit, there are more experienced agents.

"That's why I've been pushing you harder these past few weeks." He explains, and suddenly it all clicks. The increased workload did start right after you got right back from a case on the West Coast. "It would be a shame for this team to lose you, but this is a huge promotion, congratulations."

"When do I have to decide?" You ask, finally finding your words. You're not even sure why you're not turning it down immediately, maybe some part of your brain just wants to run with the fantasy for a moment.

"They want an answer by the end of next week." He informs you before handing over an envelope with your name on it that you're sure has all the necessary information.

You're really not sure what to say to him, so you settle with, "Okay, thank you."

Thankfully, he must notice that you're overwhelmed, so he nods. "Have a good night." He tells you.

It's your cue that you're allowed to go, and he doesn't need anything else, so you stand to do so, getting to the door before you turn back to look at him. "You too, Hotch." You say.

You walk down the steps and across the bullpen on shaky legs, still trying to comprehend it. Spencer's near the elevator and you walk to him.

He immediately notices the change in your demeanor and the envelope in your hand. "What's up?"

You bite your bottom lip, pressing the button on the elevator and drawing out a little bit of suspense. Maybe there's no point in even telling him, it's not like you'll actually take the job.

"Are you okay?" He asks when you don't say anything but step into the elevator instead. He follows, but he's concerned because you kind of look like you're about to cry.

"I got offered a job at the LA Field Office." You blurt out. "I got offered the job to run the LA Field Office."

His jaw drops as well, but when he picks it up, he's smiling, not doing the deer-in-the-headlights look that you have. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing you into a hug which he's done, like, thrice at work.

"Congratulations, that's amazing!" He cheers when he pulls back. "You're amazing."

"I'm not actually going to take it though." You quickly defend.

Spencer frowns. "What? Why? I'm not questioning your judgment, but that's a big promotion. They want you for a reason."

"It's just... at the BAU, we can still have our personal relationship. If I lived in LA, you'd be all over the country half the time, and across the country for the other half. I just don't think long distance would work for jobs like ours." You explain, hoping he isn't offended by your pessimism. It's because you want to be with him so badly that you would happily give up a job that wouldn't give you that opportunity. A year ago it would have sounded insane to you, but there's more to life than work now.

His confused expression only grows. "Wouldn't I... go with you?"

Now, apparently, you're as confused as he is. "You'd seriously uproot your entire life and career to move across the country if I accept this position?"

He nods without a second of hesitation. "Yes. If you let me, that is."

It does make sense when it clicks in your brain. Just like you would stay at the BAU for him, he would leave it for you. He fully reciprocates your love.

"That's a big call." You warn.

Spencer shrugs. "We can talk about it over dinner, but I'm sure that I'd move tomorrow if you were. I liked living in California, and CalTech has been wanting me to teach since... well, since I graduated, honestly." You chuckle slightly. "I think we need to do more than just Thai takeout for dinner."

You're really not in the mood for going out, so you reason with him. "Thai takeout, but you buy me a bottle of champagne."

He thinks about it before nodding. "And flowers. We've got to celebrate how amazing you are while we plan for this next step."

[mommahughes19-23]

Close as Strangers - B.B

“Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone, every day it gets harder to stay away from you”

summary : Brock’s playing in the stanley cup with the team. He looses and you tell him how you really feel. you’re a nurse and you’re overwhelmed and miss him.

A.N : Wrote this on my break, edited. enjoy tho. xoxoxo,M

You stand over your last patient of the day, an elder woman who on any other day you would feel bad for and have way more compassion than you do at this current moment. You live in Minnesota and you’ve known the Boeser family since you and Brock were in diapers, born a week apart and your mom’s both attending the same ‘mommy and me’ group. You are currently interning at Minnesota State Hospital as part of your last year in grad school, and to say it was overwhelming was an understatement. You and Brock typically spoke every night despite the time difference, yet lately you guys spoke maybe 5 minutes per week with the busy life you both had. Brock was still in Vancouver as the Canucks were still in the playoffs, you worked 12 hours 5 days a week.

“Miss Nurse, can you give me my meds and be gone” the patient you had just given meds to not less than 5 minutes prior had dementia and again any other day you would be more calm, but after getting thrown up on, slapped by an older patient also with dementia you had had it. “I just told you I gave them to you!” you raised your voice and huffed out. Your coworker looked at you as if to say he would finish up and you should head home for the night. You walk to the center reception desk and clock out not bothering to say anything to anyone, grabbed your bag and walked out to the elevator. You felt your phone buzz to life as you were prohibited from carrying it during your shifts as it was a distraction, 13 missed calls from Brock… You click his name and call him back though it’s only 5am your time so 2am his.

“Hey bug.” he says through the phone, “Hey sorry B, I was at work what’s up?” you tried your best to hold in your emotions but you had been so ready to let the tears flow once you got to your car it was like a leaky faucet that just got worse. “Well we lost, we are out of the play offs. The guys probably hate me for not playing.” you honestly felt numb for a moment, trying to process how you would comfort your best friend and suppress your own emotions. You thought you would be able to just pour your heart out through the phone to Brock like you used to and he would say all the right things like he always did, 6 weeks or 6 months since he’s been away. Hockey and the idea of the Canucks not making it through to the finals were the least of your worries. None the less you responded “I’m sorry to hear that B, not your fault though, you need to remember to take your health seriously. You’re of less use hurt than you are on the side for a little. The guys understand.” you say shaky as you comfort him in the way you longed for him to do for you.

“I know but this blood clot thing was the last thing I needed and it just sucks that I couldn’t be there in person to cheer them on.” “I hear you but you can’t focus on the what ifs. But uh- is it uhm - is it cool if I call you back in a little. I just- just got off and I’m gonna head home.” you say slightly hiccuping trying not to let the tears fall.

“Bug, are you ok? You sound like you’re about to have a panic attack, and don’t say you’re fine I can tell you’re not.” He responds. You let the tears start flowing and you’re honestly scared that you may not be able to stop. “I don’t know Brock, I want to be a nurse so bad and I have worked so hard but these long hours and missing you and not having you here to comfort me I just don’t know how to do it.” You say in one breath. “I don’t want to give up because all my work will have been for nothing but, how the FUCK do i get through this lack of sleep and pressure”. “You miss me?” he says as if he is oblivious to you’re hints you have been dropping for months now. “Yes of course, you’re the only one who knows how - how - how to help me when- i -i am like this. I think I love you.” you say through your sobs.

“Forget the stanley cup we can mourn my loss later, baby I can tell through the tears that I shouldn’t have gone to Vancouver, and I want you to know it gets harder every day to stay away from you. I want to fly you out to all my games and I want you to wear my jersey and I want to call you mine baby. What do you say, I’ll be back home in a few days, can you wait for me a little longer and we can talk in person?” “I’ll wait forever for you, I can’t wait to have you back home.” “I love you bug.” he says, you smile so big and wipe the rest of the dried tears. “I love you more.”

“6 months since I went away, and to know everything has changed, and tomorrow I’ll be coming back to you.”

Tags : @skylershines @puck-luck @quinnylouhughesx43 @noahkahansorangejuice

gimme feedback thanks. will edit around 8 my time.

[starsfic]

The Week After, Chapter 3: Day 2

The first thing Morgan did when they woke up the next morning was not the tax paperwork or even unpacking their boxes to set up the big break room as more of a room.

Instead, they found a trash cart, a pair of thick rubber gloves conveniently stashed inside, and started picking up the dead bodies.

If they were going to stay here for however many seasons, they didn't want the dead corpses hanging around. They couldn't risk getting sick with the air that the corpses produced or the rot that the corpses also produced.

The first aid kit had also come with a map of the building and when they tested a few doors, they found them open, revealing bright, cheerful hallways. That answered how people got around when the palace was still open to the public. They also found the elevator that probably led to the prize room. It was big enough to fit the cart in.

The main concern was that Morgan…didn’t care.

Yes, in the mad rush of running around and doding death, the sight of white teeth clamping down on flesh and bone, blood caked into the innocent decor, and bodies strung up had been horrifying. However, as Morgan grabbed a body and hauled it into the cart, ignoring the ache in their ribs, they didn’t feel anything. No pity rose up.

The only thing they felt as they picked up their predecessors was smug.

They had survived the show. They were the only one who made it to Hexa Havoc. They weren’t like the other three contestants, who cowered or tried to run back.

They had won.

There was something disturbing about that idea, but they couldn’t bring themself to dwell on it as the elevator chugged down to the incinerator. 

It was still roaring from the show. The smugness faded when they saw the broken end of the grind rail they had clung to, desperate to survive. Morgan swallowed their nerves back and pulled their eyes away to grip the handle of the cart and dump the bodies out. They watched as the bodies tumbled, heads over heels, and the flames roared, accepting the offerings. They turned away and headed back up to track down more.

On their fifth and last turn, Frankie was waiting next to the breaker box. He held a tablet and tapped on it, looking up as they approached.

“I have to say, the facility looks cleaner,” he said as they stopped next to him, pulling off their jacket and tying it around their waist. “Most other employees are too scared to come and clean up.” There was a beam to his voice. “I’m not surprised that you did it.”

“Yeah, well, if I’m going to be staying here, I don’t want to waste time getting sick.” Morgan grabbed the handle and shoved the cart up, dumping the bodies out. Frankie glanced at them, but didn’t mention, even as they felt his eyes drag on their arms. 

“Fair enough,” he finally said.

They stood there in silence as Morgan watched the corpses slide down the trash heap. Sparks and flames were flying, thanks to the feeding, and a few landed on a corpse’s mask. For a good moment, their face itched.

“It's weird because I don't feel sad for them,” they said, breaking the silence. “Except, I should, shouldn't I?”

“You're asking me?”

Good point.

When the corpses finally finished falling, Frankie turned and walked away. Like before, Morgan found themself following him to the office, where he stopped and let them walk in first.

Sitting on the desk was a clipboard, with a paper and pencil waiting.

EMPLOYEE CONTRACT was emblazoned across the top.

Frankie’s hands settled on their shoulders.

Morgan picked up the pencil.

[mysteriousmaninthesmoke]

Next - Latest

SOOOOO..... I have been seeing animal HRT show up on Twitter a lot in the trans community because of @ayviedoesthings little dragon comic so I thought "Hey why don't I join the fun." But there are two problems.

I'm a straight cis mostly white guy and

I AM HORRIBLE AT DRAWING ANYTHING THAT IS NOT A ROBOT!

SO I DECIDED! ah to hell with it I never cared about my masculinity, I am a being of ADHD, autism, OCD, AND CHAOS! FATE GAVE ME A MALE FORM TO EXIST IN!! I WOULDN'T GIVE A FLYING FLIP IF TOMORROW IT GAVE ME A FEMALE ONE!!! and also I'll just do it in a written story. but I am not doing someone going through the whole HRT process. 1. because I would probably be very grim describing it and 2. my brain won't stop thinking about what would happen if the military had access to a drug that would turn their soldiers into animal soldiers. SO HERE IS

PROJECT CHIMERA

Part 1

General Samuel grumbled as he rode the elevator down. If it was up to him he would have never approved this project. If it was up to him he would have never tested this on former soldiers. If it was up to him he would have gone with the doctor with the German-sounding name instead of putting the cryptic scientist who somehow knew about the project and contacted the government about being in charge. And if it was up to him he would have never would have never put himself as the one to be reviewing this project. As the elevator stopped and the doors opened Sam saw a man in a lab coat waiting for him. "Ah, General. So nice of you to visit us." said the man. Sam assumed this was the scientist. Doctor Thánatos. "Come in, Come in. I got something big I want to show you." The scientist turned around and quickly walked down the hallway. As Sam walked down the hall with the scientist, he noticed big cells to his sides with humanoid beasts in them with the names of the occupants by the cell, one of whom he recognized. Sergeant Thorn, one of the best hand-to-hand fighters he knew, before she lost her legs and an arm in an explosion. But now it looks like she was more than a fighter, she was a beast. Not only were her legs and her arm back, but she now sported green scales and a long tail. She resembled a female version of the villain the lizard. Suddenly Thorn jumped towards him, causing him to step back. her claws struck the reinforced glass wall that divided them. She let out a guttural laugh. "Ah, it's nice to see a familiar tasty face." She said licking her teeth "What's wrong soldier. Don't you know time changes people?" Sam was shocked. This was not the Thorn he knew he knew. She was tough, but she would always rather make friends than start a fight. "What's wrong captain. Not happy to see old friends captain." Said a voice behind him. Sam quickly turned around and saw in front of him a creature with dark black feathers covering its body, razor-sharp claws for feet and hands, and giant black-as-night wings sprouting from its back. "Oh sorry is it General now?" It said from a sharp-beaked mouth. Sam turned to look at the nameplate. Pilot O'hares. Sam knew him. One of his old drink buddies. He had heard that he quit the Air Force when he crashed his favorite jet, one he had gone on so many missions with, saying he would never fly again. "Ah, Ignore them. They aren't important right now." Sam turned to the scientist who was at the end of the hall by a big metal door. He was about to question what he did to his old friends when he noticed something. Three empty cells, one of them having more dust than the other. Doctor Harris, Private Gorgonzola, and Private Tompson. "I got some questions for you egg head. Why the hell are these people in cells, Why the hell are three of them empty, AND WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THEM!" The General yelled angrily "I was told they would look more human like this far into the project and not like animals. They also shouldn't be acting like ones too." The scientist only let out a laugh. "Oh I will answer the first and third questions but I will only answer the second once you see what's behind these doors. Now the cells are for ours and also for their safety. The normal drug that excuse of a doctor is selling is quite too slow, so with some modifications, I was able to speed it up, though it does seem to increase a person's animalistic instincts. Still, I see that as an improvement. My version is much more suited for the battlefield." The scientist pressed some buttons on a keypad and the metal door opened. "Now let me show you my personal project."

This is part 1 and part 2 will be out soon

[lcvesjj]

No Surprises - Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Pairing : Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader 

Summary :  This job took so much from you that you decided to quit.

Warnings : angst, sadness, no happy endings, Hotch is kind of a jerk here?, yelling and swearing, break-ups, 

A/n : this was supposed to be more angsty but I didn't feel like re-writting it :) and this is a little old so it's not the best (sorry for any mistakes I missed 🥲)

masterlist

who I write for + request rules

To say that you were tired was an understatement. You were exhausted. This job was taking far too much from you. It had taken so much from you, to the point where you felt nothing. You were simply empty and you wanted to quit your job so badly. You were exhausted and burned out and all you wanted was to leave and not look back. But you stayed because of your boyfriend Aaron.

That was before it all came crashing down. You had just gotten back to the BAU building and Aaron had avoided looking at you or speaking to you for the whole flight back. He was still mad at you, after you and Derek for running into a building where the unsub was without backup. Which was not the best move but you didn’t want more people to get hurt because of the unsub

“Y/l/n, my office now.” Hotch said in a stern voice, not wanting to make him even more mad. You just dropped your bag next to your desk and walked over to his office. “Close the door.” Was all he said not even glancing up at you. “Look Aaron if you are still-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he stood up and walked over to you with a stern expression on his face. “You disobeyed my direct orders and you put your coworkers in danger by running into that building. Right after I told you to wait for backup. Do you know how badly that could've ended? How am I supposed to not be mad at you? And do not Aaron me. I’m your boss, not your friend. Why do I always have to take care of you?”  He yelled at you. 

You took a small step back, with tears gathering in your eyes. You just didn’t say anything to him, you just stared at the ground. “Do you understand how stupid of a move that was? You could've gotten yourself killed or worse. You're done for today, Agent Y/l/n. And until I decide what to do with you, I don’t want you here or anywhere near me or Jack.” He raised his voice at you once again.

You could feel that you were about to start crying. In response you just nodded softly and muttered “Understood Sir.” Walking out of his office you quickly ran down the steps and grabbed your go-bag and ran out of the office before your coworkers could see your tears. Emily tried to stop you, but you just walked past her and towards the elevator. 

Aaron felt guilty, he shouldn't have yelled at you like that. But he was so mad at you since he didn’t want to lose yet another person he loved. He was tired and overworked, but he knew that isn't an excuse for being a jerk to you. 

For you that was it, you had had enough. You were exhausted and humiliated, this job and relationship was taking far too much from you. 

So that's when you decided to quit, you've been thinking about quitting for a while, but you never had the guts to do so. 

Walking over to your desk, you pulled out the sheet of paper that has been sitting there for a few months and filled it out. You had made up your mind already. There was no going back now. 

Thinking about your future you always pictured Aaron and Jack in it, but now you weren’t so sure. Aaron started being distant and he would snap at you a lot, just like he did in the office a few hours ago. You were tired and as much as you loved both Aaron and Jack, you knew staying would make it all worse.

After making a few calls to some friends, one of them offered you a job in Chicago and they also offered for you to live with them. Seeing this as your chance to get away from your current life, you agreed. It was an impulsive decision, but you knew it was probably for the best.

A few days later that friend flew over to help you pack everything you might need. When you finished packing and had everything ready to leave, you asked your friend if they could drive with you to the BAU to hand over your resignation and badge and everything. 

Your friend decided to stay in the car, saying that it’s best if you go in alone. Riding the elevator up, you smiled softly. You knew you would miss your team a lot. Especially Emily, JJ & Penelope, since sometimes you would all go out together or have a girls night in, you knew you would miss being able to spend time with them, but you knew it was for the best. Taking a deep breath you walked out of the elevator and through the glass doors. 

“Guys look who's here.” Derek yelled getting up and walking over to hug you. “OMG Y/n, I missed you so much!” Penelope exclaimed, running over to pull you into a tight embrace. JJ and Emily also walked over to say hello. “So what brings you here?” Derek asked curiously. “Uh well I’m actually here to hand this over.” You replied showing them the resignation form. Their faces immediately fell seeing it. “W-what? You're leaving us?” Pen asked in shock. “I got a new job offer in Chicago and I decided to take it. This job really took a toll on me so I decided to quit.” You smiled sadly at them. 

Hearing his office door open, didn’t even look up. You just looked at your coworkers and seeing their sad expressions made you tear up. Derek pulled you into a big and warm hug, whispering into your ear he said “I’m gonna miss you so much. I’m only a phone call away in case anything happens or I need to kick someone's ass alright? And stay safe for me.” He smiled sadly, kissing the side of your forehead softly.

Derek was like the older brother you never had. Always making sure you were alright and if you were having a bad day he would try and make you laugh with his silly jokes. JJ, Emily and Penenlope also hugged you saying that they would miss you a lot and making you promise that soon you’d come and see them so you could all have a girls night together.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Aaron asked in confusion, he wanted to call you and apologise for everything but he never had the guts to do it. “I’m just here to give in my resignation and my badge Sir. So you no longer have to bother looking after me.” You replied coldly. Handing him the paper he looked shocked and confused. “Y/n-” He started, but you cut him off saying. “I already have found a new job and I’m moving so don’t even bother with it. Oh and this whole relationship is over. Since as you said you don’t want me near you or Jack, so I’m just respecting your decision.” “That’s not what I meant Y/n, you know that. I was just mad.” He said softly looking at you trying to read your expression. “Just because you are mad doesn’t mean you have the right to take out your anger on someone.” You said coldly, handing him your badge before walking out of the BAU once and for all. 

Taking one last glance at the building you got into the car, driving away ready to start your new life.

[iamaburnedgiftedartkid]

Run, Chapter 6

Warnings - Mentions of Past Physical Violence, Physical Injuries, Minor Injury Description

You go to the shop and get bored and have a customer act weird because of your injuries. You help Wanda out and find out her brother is expected back tomorrow.

Sorry it's been so long I wish for no more curveballs. I'd just like to say thank you to anyone who still stuck around waiting.

You make your way into the bathroom, quickly changing into a gray henley and black jeans. You avoid the mirror, every bruise, cut, and burn threatens to drown you and drag you back to the moment they were inflicted. You try to avoid the cuts on your arms even as the sound of the beer bottle striking your face fills your ears with your heart beat, deep breath, focus. You pull your sunglasses out of your jacket pocket and slide them on. They don’t completely hide your face but they do hide enough to elevate some of your anxiety. You steel myself with a deep breath and head back into the bay. 

When you enter you see Bucky, Steve, and Wanda all talking quietly together, you can’t hear them but their bodies are tight with anger. You slow down, not sure if you should go to them but Steve looks up at you and straightens. You slump your shoulders, I probably left a bad impression with that customer. Everyone turns to look at you and you look toward the ground as you get closer to the group, “Sorry”, you say while fidgeting with your fingers. 

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Bucky asks while crossing his arms over his chest. Wanda’s hand reaches for yours, stopping you from tearing at the skin on your fingers. “What happened up front earlier?” Wanda gently asks while rubbing circles onto your hand. Wanda tugs  at your hand and you look at her. “Why didn’t you tell me what that asshole said to you?” Wanda pry’s. You look back down unable to fidget, “it’s my own fault, I shouldn't have been up there. I-I just didn’t want to bother you while you were on the phone so I went up front. I’m sorry.” Steve lifts one of his hands to his head and sighs, you start trembling and take a step away from them, “I’m sorry I di-didn’t mean to mess anything up.” You frantically get out while raising your hands in surrender.  

“Hey.” Bucky says coming toward you and  grabbing your shoulder causing you to squeak out a panicked sound. Your eyes shoot to his in fear and you try not to cry but your breathing picks up, “Hey” Bucky says in a gentler tone while rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You did nothing wrong Doll. That guy is a dick. You can tell us if something like that happens okay? We’re not going to get mad at you or balm you.” Bucky finishes. 

You're shocked, “You’re not mad at me?” You glance at all of them, Wanda and Steve shake their heads. You look back at Bucky,”No I'm not and nobody else is.” He  says softly. The air whooshes out of you and a bit of hysterical laugh comes out, “I feel like I’m crazy.” You say quietly to yourself but in a quiet garage you might as well have shouted it. Bucky looks behind him to everyone else and Wanda, her eyes to yours, “I think you’re just traumatized, we can work on it.” She says. You're so taken aback by everything that is going  on you just shake your head in agreement. They all share another look and Wanda steps up to you, “Alright now that, that is all sorted. Me and you are headed back to the clubhouse to make lunch and take a break for a bit.” You look at Steve and Bucky and they both nod, “We’ll be there in about an hour for lunch.” Steve says, giving you a smile. 

“Alright” you say looking back  toward Wanda, who beams at you and excitedly drags you toward the back exit to where they park their bikes. You know Steve’s and Bucky’s bikes which just leave the Harley Davidson Sportster in burgundy that has runes on the tank that spell something out you can’t read. Wanda sees you eyeing her bike, “It says ‘Scarlet Witch’, it’s a nickname I have.” She says with a grin. You Smile back at her as she walks over and puts her helmet on. You wait for her to gesture for you to get on the back before hopping on behind her.

The ride back to the clubhouse was the same as last night. You and Wanda pull up and you see Chuck working outside. You get off the bike keeping your head down and following Wanda, when you glaze in his direction he looks at you in pure anger. I look away and follow into the club house. 

Wanda and you head into the kitchen where she starts talking excitedly about her brother returning tomorrow. “Where was he?” you ask a small pulling at your lips at her excitement. She pauses in pulling food out of lunch before turning toward you and stepping very close whispering in your ear, “you can't tell anyone.” she pulls back to look you in the eyes and you nod. She leans back into you, “He’s been undercover with a rival gang.” she whispers before turning around and continuing to excitedly talk about his return tomorrow and how there will be a party. 

You stay frozen  for a moment before your mind and catch up to the whiplash in the change of her talking. You walk up to her at the counter, “What are we making for lunch?” you say with a smile. She smiles  back at you, “Since we’re having a party tomorrow we will keep it simple with sandwiches, salad, and soup.” She says while pulling out what has to be 10 pounds of bread. She goes into what will be known as ‘mission mode’. She directs you around the kitchen with ease  even though you are a bit clumsy. She is right there to help you along with encouragement. Before you know it people have started coming into the kitchen and you and Wanda are done. You smile excitedly at one another before Wanda has a wooden spoon in her hand and in directing everyone like she was the first night you got here.

[bropunzeling]

I was rereading your mattdrai sex pollen fic the other day and kept wondering how all of that would've seemed to Matthew. So if that pov flip sparks, I'd love to get insight into his brain in any scene of it!

It's probably stupid, taking Leon home with him. If Matthew were smarter -- he can practically hear Brady laughing at him, which, fuck off, imaginary Brady -- he would've order the Uber to the hotel where the visiting team always stays, hauled Leon into the elevator and shoved him into his hotel room, and stayed there until Leon texted a trainer. Then, and only then, would Matthew have bailed, and he would've been right to do so.

But something about Leon makes it far too easy for Matthew to make stupid choices. So instead, he's taking Leon home with him.

He feels somewhat better about it when he sees how out of it Leon is, wobbling his way up the path to the front door, fever hot to the touch. Leon's still as hard as he was in the hall on the way to the restaurant bathroom, but Matthew is devoting his considerable focus to getting them inside the house, and not thinking about -- that.

"This is your house," Leon says, sounding childishly bewildered as Matthew struggles with the door.

"I'm not leaving you at some hotel by yourself," Matthew retorts. It's harder to deal with the keys than he thought. Leon's presence, he's sure. He's had months to get over himself, but Leon barely has to say a word for Matthew to relapse. God fucking damn it.

Hauling Leon inside is hard. Not in the way it was a few years ago, both of them grappling for control, slamming into walls and the corners of furniture in an effort to be the one with the upper hand, back when the way they pushed and pulled at each other was half the fun. No, it's hard because Leon is dead weight, hanging off of Matthew like a limpet. There's no ignoring how hard Leon is now -- unnaturally hard, Matthew reminds himself, it's not because Leon wants him, it's because something's really fucking wrong -- or how hot his skin is to the touch. Like no fever Matthew's ever seen.

"Okay," Matthew says, once he's deposited Leon on the couch. He takes one, then two steps back, just to put some space between them; barely ignores the way Leon visibly swallows. God, Leon looks so -- is it fucked up to be this into Leon when he's like this, out of his mind, not under his own control, dark-eyed and sweaty and so turned on he can barely say anything to Matthew? Probably. But fuck, Matthew is.

Not like that's new, though. Matthew's been into Leon any and every way he could have him for years.

"You're -- what do you need?" Matthew asks, tearing his gaze away from Leon's face to look at the walls, the fireplace, his stupid Stepbrothers print, anything that isn't Leon. "To feel better?"

"I--" Leon says haltingly. When Matthew glances at him, automatic, Leon just shrugs. Fucking figures.

"Leon." Maybe Matthew shouldn't have done this. Maybe he should've done like Leon asked and left him alone. But Matthew's not even sure how to do that. Not even after Leon left him on radio silence, ignoring every text Matthew sent. Didn't stop him from walking up to Leon, did it. Didn't stop him from bringing Leon home, bringing him here. Doesn't stop him from wanting to figure out just how to get Leon to stop hurting, to stop looking like he's barely holding together on Matthew's new sectional. He chews his lip, feeling the spot that always cracked and peeled back in Calgary. "You -- does it help? When I touch you?"

Slowly, Leon nods.

"Okay. Okay."

Matthew has to psych himself up to walk over to the couch. Remind himself that even if it hurts, it'll be worth it. That's how being with Leon has always been, pain and pleasure all tangled up until Matthew's brain doesn't know the difference anymore. But he does it, takes those steps, reaches out and cups Leon's face with one hand. Feels Leon's beard, strangely soft under his palm. "Like this?"

He feels more than hears Leon inhale. Then: "I -- more."

Matthew's pulled like a marionette, other hand reaching before he knows what he's doing. He wants to dig in his nails, leave marks. Wants to cup Leon's face like the most precious thing he's ever had. His thumb moves slowly along Leon's cheekbone, a gesture he can't help, revealing as it is. "Is this enough?"

Leon's eyes are shut. He doesn't look when he shakes his head.

"Leon," Matthew says. He bends down, closer. From here he can see the wrinkles around Leon's eyes, the small freckles and moles dotting his face. Learning them anew. His heart is pounding hard. He thinks he knows what Leon might say next, but he's not -- he needs to help, but if Leon asks him to -- "I can't," he says, fear making his tongue go too fast. "You have to give me something."

Slowly, Leon opens his eyes. Then --

It's not a good kiss. Too rough, too dry, too fast. But Matthew wants it -- fuck, he knew it would happen, and he wanted it, and he -- he can't do this right now, not if Leon doesn't mean it, not if --

Matthew pulls away, even though it's so fucking hard to do it. Watches Leon hiss through his teeth, like it actually hurt to stop, even though it should be hurting Matthew more. Matthew's the one who had to give this up, after all. "Leon," he says, and he hates how his voice shakes. "This better not -- if this is some kind of fucked up joke --"

Leon shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is soft, slurred, like he can barely get the words out fast enough. "I'm not fucking with you. I don't -- I don't know what's happening to me, but it feels better when I touch you. When I..." He trails off, swallows. Matthew watches the bob of his throat; can't look away. When Leon looks at him, his eyes are wide and dark and pleading. Leon's never been good at hiding anything, not even when he wants to; there's no way he doesn't mean this. "It's the only thing that's helped," he says, and Matthew believes it.

Matthew shuts his eyes. Now is the time to stop. Turn back. There has to be something else, some other way. Has to be something that isn't going to leave Matthew's heart out in the open, unsheltered by his ribs, where Leon can bruise it all over again.

Even as he thinks that, though, he knows there isn't anything else. Not really. Not when Leon's asking like this, trusting in Matthew to help. Even now, even though he knows better, Matthew knows he can't say no.

Not when he wants to touch Leon so badly it hurts.

"Fuck," he says. "This is such a bad idea."

Then he opens his eyes. Looks at Leon -- sweating and flushed; expression so open and vulnerable that Matthew almost wants to hide him away, keep anyone else from seeing it.

"Fuck it," he says, and kisses Leon back.

[julianobungus]

I don't know, but when Grace said, "I don't know," to Simon, I beyond mad at her. Like girl, you know him, and you know what he's going through, and you say that to him. The guy who's has trust issues and abandonment issues, who was probably changing himself to you happy, and all you have to say is, "I don't know." I'm not forgetting what Simon did, but geez, the fandom seems to glorify Grace like she's a Saint but treats Simon like he's the devil, forgetting that Grace was the leader of apex and did just as many awful things. Sorry for the rant. It's just some of the stories and forms about Simon and Grace. Get disturbing about how happy they were when Simon kicked the bucket. And this is the only place I know where I won't get hounded for saying this.

No no, don't apologise. Like I get it. The treatment Simon gets from the fandom can be pretty infuriating, especially in how unrelenting some of the fans are in hating him.

Grace is a good character, but we shouldn't forget that she's just as flawed as Simon in many ways, so seeing people take the moral high ground by ignoring all the bad stuff she did is annoying. "But she changed!"

Aye, she did, and it's an important part of her character. But the narrative of Book 3 is so fixated on elevating Grace to levels of pure good and Simon to those of irredeemable sin that it stops making sense in some ways. Especially that one last line: "I don't know."

... What did the writers mean by that? That Simon - a literal young adult who's been separated from his family and normal society for his formative years - doesn't deserve a proper explanation or reassurance that he's cared for? You can just tell the writers hated Simon with a passion, especially with how they talk about him online.

Another thing I wanna add, even if it's a bit of a tangent.

Grace goes off on Simon for grabbing her and trying to control her - this is a good message to convey, since victimisation of women and patriarchal toxicity is a real problem IRL. That being said, I think Simon and Grace are one of the worst examples to use for that - because we see Grace manhandle and touch Simon all the time prior to this. Grace has no sense of personal space; touching and grabbing Simon and Jesse, albeit playfully and without malicious intent. I might be misremembering, but don't you think Simon would have picked that up from her?

This is largely why a toxic masculinity storyline doesn't work with these two. At least, IMO. If anything, Grace is the toxic one initially, whereas Simon becomes toxic as a result of their relationship.

I know this seems like I'm blaming Grace for all of Simon's problems, I'm just calling it how I see it.

[baka-monarch]

With how popular subliminal spaces have become in horror, I think it'd be so cool if someone made a game based off the elevator challenge

So basically like

Back in the day, back in the day I don't remember when it was a popular thing but there was this challenge that people did (you can even find YouTube videos of people doing it) where if you did a series of specific things on a hotel elevator it'd send you to an alternate dimension like our own except there's no one there

Apart from like, these things that look like humans but if you interact with them basically you'll get trapped or die, it's been awhile since I heard anything about the elevator challenge so my memory is a bit foggy

But basically like

Uh

Here's how you do it (for anyone who wants to make a game about it- I guess you can try it IRL but like, you probably shouldn't since if it's real you might die or cease to exist because of it)

You need at least one player and a hotel with an elevator and at least 10 floors

The player, and whoever goes with them, go into the elevator and can not leave until the game is done (if any outsiders enter the elevator while you're trying to do it it immediately ends the ritual and you'll have to restart)

Then ride the elevator to a series of specific floors (do not get off) the order is: 4th, 2nd, 6th, 2nd, 10th, 5th

At the 5th floor there's a possibility of a woman getting onto the elevator with you (this is part of the game, you don't have to start over), don't look at her or interact with her, or you'll get trapped in the other world

Now click the button to go back to the 1st floor, one of two things can happen from here:

You'll go back down, if you do immediately get off and don't talk to anyone

Instead the elevator will take you to the 10th floor. Congratulations, you're entering the other world

You can look around and explore a bit now, there's several different things that people claim to see in this other world like there being no power, the place looking different, and even seeing just a big red cross out the windows

But obviously you gotta go back and not get stuck and to do that you do this ritual:

You have to get back on the same elevator you used before (no other elevators will take you back, so probably stay close to that one)

Do the same thing as before, go to the same sequence of floors as the first time without getting off (4, 2, 6, 2, 10, 5)

At the 5th floor press the button to go back to the 1st floor

If the elevator starts ascending to the 10th floor again DO ANYTHING YOU CAN TO STOP IT!!!! Try to get it to stop on another floor, click the emergency button and wait, anything you can to make sure you don't go back to the 10th floor

So yeh

That's how ya do it but I don't recommend

There's like, even a case of a woman disappearing off an elevator and then being found dead somewhere else and theories say she was playing this game

So yeah

You probably shouldn't do it but yeah it'd make a really good horror game I think

And yeah people make YouTube videos of themselves doing it

[holidaytorment]

so you are the sitting vice president and have decided that you want to run for president in the next election. you probably shouldn't

the long and the short of it is that even in a world where biden didn't visibly sundown on national television and went on to win the 2024 election, i don't think harris would have won the 2028 election either. this is not necessarily due to her politics, political instincts, the democratic party apparatus, or anything on that end. it's actually, mainly, that the odds of a former vice president becoming president are so shockingly low that it is usually not even worth it to run. if you are the sitting vice president, your best odds to be president are to have the sitting president die, and even then you're doing worse than a coinflip for getting elected on your own merits after that. if you are a party apparatchik you should not suggest to a sitting vice president that they run for president.

historically speaking, there are two methods by which a vice president has become the president: be the vice president when the sitting president is removed from office, or win the general election. the vice presidents i discuss here are ones where, to me, it seems that they made an effort to secure the nomination of their party for president, regardless of whether they intended to actually run. i don't include george clinton here because it's not clear to me whether he wanted to run for president in 1812 against james madison, and it really doesn't matter because he died that april anyway. nor did i include george dallas, who initially planned to but found so little support that his name doesn't even appear on the wikipedia page for the election in question (1848). so, now, lets take a look:

being the sitting vice president when the president dies, resigns, or is otherwise removed from office

of the nine presidents who have died in office, all nine of their vice presidents were elevated to the position of president. it's a foolproof way of becoming president, actually, to the point that i can see why lbj…ah, well, nevermind that. anyway, this is covered for in the constitution (even if it was precedent for 140 years that the vp became president, and wasn't acting president or some such) so it's pretty hard to argue that it doesn't work. but if you are elevated to the presidency, how successful are you at winning the next election on your own merits?

john tyler (1844): succeeded upon the death of william harrison. ran for president in 1844, and secured an independent nomination (he'd essentially been drummed out of the whig party), but this was all a political maneuvre as part of his plan to annex texas, and he dropped out once the annexation occured and threw support to james polk, eventual winner

millard fillmore (1852): succeeded upon the death of zachary taylor. fillmore, despite being the sitting president, was not selected as the whig party nominee for the 1852 election, primarily due to party divisions over slavery. they opted instead for general winfield scott, who would lose to general (fmr.) franklin pierce.

andrew johnson (1868): succeeded upon the death of abraham lincoln. on "non-ideological" terms, considered one of the worst presidents in history for his initial handling of reconstruction. was impeached, and did not run in 1848. the republican nominatin went to general ulysses s. grant, who won.

chester a. arthur (1884): succeeded upon the death of james garfield. ran in 1884, but not seriously due to his health issues. was not selected in lieu of james blaine, who would lose to grover cleveland

theodore roosevelt (1904): succeeded upon the death of william mckinley. my notes for this post say "imagine asking if teddy roosevelt ever ran for president". his only real competition for the nomination died, and he won the general election handily in 1904. declined to run in 1908, and ran again in 1912 unsuccessfully.

calvin coolidge (1924): succeeded upon the death of warren harding faced little opposition in for the republican nomination in 1924, won the general handily, and opted not to run again in 1928

harry s truman (1948): succeeded upon the death of frankin roosevelt. faced a fair bit of opposition for the democratic nomination in 1948, won a squeaker in the general (if 29,000 votes had gone to his opponent in california, ohio, and illinois, he'd have lost). lost the first primary in 1952 and withdrew. later became the first recipient of a medicare card

lyndon b. johnson (1964): succeeded upon john kennedy's very bad, no good day in dallash. faced little opposition for nomination in 1964 and won a landslide in the general. after a poor showing in the 1968 primary, withdrew.

gerald ford (1976): succeeded upon the resignation of richard nixon. faced some pressure from ronald reagan for nomination, then lost to carter in the general. considered running in 1980, then considered a weird "co-presidency" with reagan, then dropped from major politics altogether, for the most part. shouldn't have pardoned nixon.

so that's four out of nine who won on their own merits, and all in the 20th century. a .444 batting average will put you on the shortlist of greatest seasons of all time and probably gets you in the hall of fame

running for president as the sitting vice president

contrarily, this is the worst way to do it. it's so bad that…well, you'll see.

john adams (1796): george washington's vp; ran in 1796 against thomas jefferson and won.

thomas jefferson (1800): john adams' vp; ran in 1800 against adams, and won. adams' and jefferson's results here were both before the passage of the 12th amendment. prior to the 12th, the second-place in the electoral college was awarded the vice presidency, which is an insane way to run an election but what else do you expect from a bunch of drunk slave owners.

martin van buren (1836): andrew jackson's vp; ran in 1836 against william henry harrison and won! congrats! ran again in 1840, again against harrison, and lost. was considered in 1844 by the democrats but not nominated, and ran in 1848 on the free soil party (lost).

john c. breckinridge (1860): james buchanan's vp; a split in the democratic party between north and south led to two candidates running in 1860: stephen douglass for the northern democrats, and breckinridge for the southern democrats. lost, obviously, and he went on to become a confederate general. oops! unrelated, they should've hung all of those guys instead of just the one who ran the chancellorville prison.

charles w. fairbanks (1908): theodore roosevelt's vp; while considered a strong possibility, roosevelt instead threw his support behind taft, and since roosevelt ran the party at that point so did the rest of the convention, so he was not nominated. supported taft in 1912, and later ran as charles evans hughes' vice president in a 1916 loss to woodrow wilson.

thomas r. marshall (1920): woodrow wilson's vp; did not receive any major support in 1920, partly on account of how he covered for wilson's multiple strokes. the democrats would select james cox, who would lose to warren harding.

alben w. barkley (1952): harry truman's vp; truman's withdrawl opened the doors for the democrats in 1952. barkley, at 74, was seen as too old for serious consideration. the democrats eventually chose adlai stevenson, who would go on to lose two elections against dwight eisenhower.

richard nixon (1960): dwight eisenhower's vp; much like teddy, my notes for this post say "imagine asking if dick nixon ever ran for president". nixon is one of the great rat bastards of world history. anyway, faced very little significant opposition at the convention but lost the general to john f. kennedy.

hubert humphrey (1968): lyndon johnson's vp; front-ran and eventually won a contentious primary that included the assassination of the second place candidate (robert kennedy) and the chicago convention riots. lost to richard nixon in the general in part because of nixon's sabotage of the vietnamese peace talks. 1968 was a notoriously bad year. signalled interest in future elections but was never the nominee again.

george h. w. bush (1988): ronald reagan's vp; faced initial opposition but was later nominated for the republican party. ran against michael dukakis in the general and won! faced little resistance in 1992's nomination, but lost the general to bill clinton. one could argue that ross perot not running would've won it for bush and i'd be inclined to agree.

al gore (2000): bill clinton's vp; faced little opposition for the democratic nomination, and went on to win the popular vote in the general but lost the electoral vote to george w. bush. fun fact: some of the attorneys that argued for stopping the florida recount in the supreme court are now themselves justices of the supreme court. very cool! anyway, al gore's loss here was a disaster for the people of the middle east and the people of new orleans, and has had irreversible effects on global climate. meanwhile w. bush and his vp dick cheney are now apparently now seen as critical voices for the anti-trump democrats to the point where if you ask the right person they hate ralph nader for (incorrectly) causing gore to lose florida more than they hate bush for actually winning. awesome!

kamala harris (2024): joe biden's vp; became heir presumptive after biden's first debate with trump went poorly and biden later withdrew from the race. normally this would probably prompt a fierce primary and contentious national convention but considering no one had time to prepare much of an opposition on such a short notice harris was officially nominated without a real primary. as for the general, well,

final tally:

2 wins in the general election (van buren, bush)

2* wins prior to the 12th amendment (adams, jefferson)

3 times not even being selected as the party's nominee (fairbanks, marshall, barkley)

5 losses in the general election (breckinridge, nixon, humphrey, gore, harris)

two for ten, four for twelve if you include adams and jefferson (which i don't), but if you're only batting .200 at best you better be a good defensive player because otherwise your ass is riding the bench.

running for president as former (not current) vice president

what if you wanted to take a little break? a nice little vacation

henry wallace (1948): franklin roosevelt's second vp, then secretary of commerce; removed in favor of harry truman before the 1944 because he was a bit too far "out there" for the democratic party (for things like being anti-segregation and conciliatory with the soviets, you know, stuff like that) and whoever was vp was likely going to succeed roosevelt due to his health (roosevelt didn't attend the 1944 democratic convention). founded the progressive party and ran unsuccessfully as its candidate in 1948. guy seems alright.

richard nixon (1968): lost to kennedy but came back roaring against hubert humphrey in 1968. sabotaged the vietnamese peace talks (something lbj knew about), and then won handily over humphrey and notable shithead george wallace. is the primary reason everyone sought henry kissenger's favor for the following 50 years. pushed the vietnam war into cambodia and laos, presaging the rise of pol pot and the khmer rouge. won in a landslide in 1972 in part due to illegal interference in the democratic primary by his committee to re-elect the president, for which he later resigned. one of the 20th century's most interesting figures and when he died they should have left his corpse in an open sewer in yorba linda.

walter mondale (1984): jimmy carter's vp; technically, only didn't run in 1980 because he was part of the ticket with carter when they lost to reagan. won a rather hardfought campaign against gary hart and jesse jackson for the nomination, and picked geraldine ferraro for his vp pick, which is neat if calculated. mondale was obliterated in the general election, winning only minnesota and the district of columbia.

joseph biden (2016): barack obama's vp; before being vp, biden ran unsuccessfully in 1988 and 2008, before becoming obama's vp candidate in the latter. biden opted not to run in 2016 despite probably being able to win. won against donald trump in 2020 to prove that nothing that happened in 2020 is indicative of a broader trend without further evidence.

so, two for four is .500, a great batting average but usually indicative of low sample size

do not let vice presidents run for president unless they are for the party you are running against

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #246

Do you have a favourite sibling? I get along with my younger sister better, and I just generally find her more likable, but I don't have a "favorite."

Ever tried carrot juice? That sounds disgusting to me.

Would you rather wear a suit or dress? Dress.

How do you like your eggs if you like them at all? Only scrambled, with cheese is a definite benefit.

Ever seen snow? Yup.

Favourite holiday? So, vibes-wise, Halloween. I do get more enjoyment out of Christmas itself, though. I like our traditions and just hanging out as a fam.

Do you have a Nintendo Switch? No.

Ever skipped class? Not an independent class, but rather a full school day.

What is a fruit you refuse to eat? Cherries. Mangoes because I despise the texture.

Are both your eyes the same colour? Yep.

Do you like glittery things? Yes.

Opinion on brussel sprouts? Inedibly disgusting to me.

How much would I have to pay you to get you to do karaoke? You couldn't pay me any amount for that, the humiliation would be debilitating.

Last time you went ice skating? Never.

Painting or drawing? Drawing, painting stresses me out because it's messy.

Are both your ears pierced? Yes.

Do you think it’s cute when you’re going down the road and see a dog with its head hanging out the window? Yes.

Do you have a favorite drummer? I'm kinda biased towards Christoph Schneider because he's Rammstein's drummer and he's a lovely guy, but there are probably more talented drummers. I don't pay too much attention to drums in songs.

Do you like to earn your own money or do you prefer that your parents/family buy you things? I don't have a source of income, at all, and I absolutely despise it.

Does anyone in your family play in a band? What band? No.

What’s the biggest spider you’ve come across? Either an orb weaver or wolf spider, in natural circumstances. I've seen a large tarantula at an expo, though.

Have you ever been bitten by anything poisonous? Venomous, not poisonous. No.

Which Mario game would you say is your favorite? That is, if you even like Mario? I've enjoyed Mario Kart, but I'm in general not big on the franchise.

Do you have a DeviantART account? I have two, a main one for my photography and a second for my drawings.

Have you ever gotten wasted off cough/cold medicine? No.

What’s your opinion on thoroughbred racing? I know absolutely nothing about this.

Has there ever been a Christmas where you had to do without gifts-wise? No.

Have you ever pet a tarantula? Yes, I have, but you're not supposed to pet a tarantula due to their urticating hairs. Old World tarantulas don't have these hairs, so you don't have to worry about that, but they have more potent (but not fatal) venom, so you really shouldn't be irritating them. I pet a rose-haired tarantula before I knew ANYTHING about them, and sure enough, my skin got very irritated.

Have you conquered any fears recently? No.

Do you know anyone who has actually been in an alcohol or drug-related crash? Yes, a childhood best friend actually. It was extremely tragic, because HER best friend died because of it.

Did you celebrate Father's Day? We used to go out to lunch, but this year we actually didn't do anything, idk why exactly.

Do you ever wonder if there really is someone who can complement your personality well enough to stay together for the rest of your life? I do wonder this. I worry Girt will eventually grow tired of me.

Do you hate how being bisexual is like a trend? It's literally not a trend, shut the fuck up.

Have you ever gotten a professional massage? No, they creep me out. It would certainly NOT help me relax.

Do you have a good relationship with your first love? We have no sort of relationship.

What is something you’re currently nervous about? Adjusting to this time change. I react so poorly to change, and I really don't like it getting dark SO early. Change just really elevates my anxiety.

Do you ever tend to over-analyze? THAT'S MY SPECIALTY, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

How do you react when you’re pissed off? I either shut down big time, not talking, or I get very snappy. Actually, more often than anything, I cry.

What celebrity did your most current ex resemble? I don't know of a celebrity, but she actually shared a lot of visual similarities with the character Amalie from the Silent Hill: The Short Message game, at least to me. I remember when they show her face for the first time, I was like "holy shit."

What is something creepy that has happened to you (or someone you know) recently? *shrug*

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder before? How did it affect your daily life? Well, I have sleep apnea. I also have this weird thing where I have episodes of severe nightmares/terrors where I wake up screaming (and before Prazosin I used to flail and attack things), this has been a thing since I think 2018, and no doctor has figured it out. I go through periods where I'm fine, then episodes where I'm having them every night.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience: I haven't, thankfully.

Do you find that caffeinated or alcoholic drinks make you pee more than normal? Yes.

Do you still enjoy watching Disney movies? Yes.

What are some interests you have in common with your parents? Metal and rock music is the biggest. My mom likes artsy stuff, including writing, but she barely EVER ever does that. I wish she'd do more with it.

How old were you when your parents trusted you to stay home alone all day? I don't know, actually.

If you could go to one country for two weeks, all expenses paid, where would you go and why? Right NOW, Germany. I want to visit South Africa to visit the KMP, but I would want to be in better shape for that because I'd be out in the desert.

Do you drink more or less water than is recommended? Less, I'm sure. But I drink SO much more water than I used to; I used to survive off the water I'd get from food and other beverages, and I'm not exaggerating. I once used to drink zero actual water, and mind you this was a long period of time.

Do you like taking walks? Walks are very difficult for me. Not as hard as they once were, but I have SHIT endurance, and I still deal with leg pain after going through muscle atrophy there. I really sucked at keeping up with exercise after I finished physical therapy... and then once my slump of the year hit in I wanna say July, exercise just stopped happening. I WANT to one day be able to take walks and enjoy it... I'm just really struggling to get to that point.

What do your parents think about piercings and tattoos? Do you agree with them? My mom is totally cool with them. I feel like Dad doesn't like tattoos too much, but he doesn't seem to have too big of an opinion. I have no idea what he feels about piercings, but he's never complained about mine.

What are your religious beliefs? Are these the same as your parents’? I'm a very strict atheist. Both my parents are Christian.

Do you remember The Land Before Time movies? Who was your favorite character? I LOVED these movies! Well... I think I only saw the first two, but the first was a big part of my childhood. I had a computer game, too. I think Littlefoot was my favorite.

What’s your favorite genre of book to read? Animal fantasy.

Who has more influence over your taste in music - friends or family? Neither???? My interests are my own, no one "influences" them.

Are you one of those people who texts back instantly? I am.

Do you think going to college/university is the best option after you’ve left school? This is an independent choice. I tried college three times, and it was absolutely not for me. The stress and pressure was not something I could manage.

Is it easy to sleep late in your house, or are other people pretty noisy in the mornings? It's pretty easy, so long as it's not a Friday, when Emerson (and on special occasions her two older siblings) is here. Mom tends to close my door though, at least just enough so Roman can still squeeze through, so that helps.

Do you prefer watching movies alone or with other people? With other people, always. I never watch movies on my own.

What’s your favourite place to get pizza from? Domino's, even though they can be hit-or-miss.

Do you like those different flavored Tootsie Rolls? I really don't like Tootsie Rolls, I don't think I've ever tried an untraditionally flavored one.

Think of the last verbal argument you were in; what caused it? Long story short, I didn't want squishy grapes because I'm EXTREMELY particular about texture in food (autism thing, it's not a mere "dislike"), I'd rather not eat than eat squishy grapes because the texture literally makes me shudder. My mom was being very non-understanding about it, even though she's thoroughly familiar with how I am with texture in food.

Do you smoosh bugs, or just let ‘em go? I either ignore them or take them outside.

What was the last thing you deleted off of your computer? Good question.

Where would you like to be in 5 years? Hopefully living with Girt, doing far better mentally and physically. I pray the fuck to god I have a source of income.

What was the experience that impacted you the most in your life? The breakup, I think.

How would your best friends describe you? A worrywart. Shy. Cares a lot about what's going on in the world.

Do you prefer dating just one person and seeing where it goes or dating multiple people until you make a decision? One person.

What is the craziest thing that you’ve done with someone? Drove in the passenger's seat with a driver who was high on weed. And might I add, weed is illegal here. IF she got pulled over, I also would have gone to jail. I wanted to piss myself, I was too nervous to tell her I didn't want to ride with her while she was high.

Did you ever judge someone for the dark secrets they told you? If it's in their past, no, because the past is the past and people change. But I mean, if you tell me something evil that is still relevant to who you are, yes, I'm judging you.

What’s your love language? Words of affirmation, quality time.

What was your favorite romantic moment and why? I just. Don't talk about it, because it's painful.

Do you believe in soulmates? Nope.

Do you eat breakfast daily? Yes.

You want to get married? One day, yes.

Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/girlfriend every week? I've only been in a handful of relationships, and most were long-term. No.

Are you wearing socks right now? No, I very much avoid wearing socks unless I'm wearing close-toed shoes. Otherwise, socks are a sensory nightmare for me.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My mom.

Do you firmly believe that everything happens for a reason? Absolutely not.

Do you prefer soy sauce or Teriyaki sauce? I don't think I like either, I'd have to try Teriyaki to refresh my memory. I KNOW I don't like soy sauce.

Are the pictures on your computer organized in folders? Yes.

How many scars are on your arm? None, that I can remember.

Do you understand Japanese text? No.

What is your favorite chip brand? Uh. Maybe Cheetos, idk.

If you have a Facebook, is yours privatized? Why or why not? Yes, because stranger danger.

Can you cry on cue? What about laugh? I can't cry on cue, but I mean, I could force a laugh.

Can kittens ever be ugly? I don't think so.

What foods do you always put salt on? Fries and tater tots. Plain rice. Scrambled eggs.

If you need a job, will you take whatever you can get? Considering I've been unemployed the vast majority of my adult life, I think it's obvious I won't. I am not employable in almost any case.

[sanguineterrain]

most normal thing in the world | jason todd

Summary: You get hit with a love spell. Naturally, the first person you seek out is Jason Todd.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings/tags: love spell (so potentially mild dubious consent but all the feelings are reciprocated), lovesick you, lovesick jason, repressed jason, LOTS of cuddling/lovie stuff, needles, magic, pining, happy ending.

the divider

Jason's having a good night.

He made himself an indulgent lasagna, and now he's got leftovers for tomorrow. He's off from patrol tonight, which, he must admit, was nice of Cass to offer.

Yeah, Jason actually feels pretty normal. Feels like any young person would. Hell, he might put on a movie he won't pay attention to, or finally adopt a cat, just to keep the normal streak going. That's what young folks do, right?

(He can think of some other things young people do, things that Jason won't allow himself to dream of.)

Knock knock.

Jason sighs. Well. The streak was good while it lasted.

He gets up, shuffling over in his sweats. He undoes the four locks and opens the door to reveal... you.

"Uh, hey," he says, cracking the door wider. "Everything okay?"

It's late. You shouldn't be out now, even if the sun hasn't gone down yet.

Jason frowns when you sway in the doorway and don't respond.

Then you flash him the sweetest smile he's ever been on the receiving end of. Wow. Sure, Jason's seen you flash your pretty teeth before. But not like this. And not at him.

"Hi, Jaylove. Hi."

"Uh." He watches you walk right past him, into his apartment. He shuts the door. "Hi... What's goin' on? You alright?"

You turn to face him. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, you're here."

"What?"

You walk to him and take his hands in yours. Jason's eyebrows rise.

"Hey...?" Jason says, looking at your joined hands. You lace your fingers together.

"My prince," you say happily. "Your eyes are beautiful. Like emeralds. And you have a beautiful mouth. Your whole face is beautiful. I'd like to paint you."

"Are you on drugs?" Jason releases your hands to hold your face. He gently pushes your eyelids up to inspect your pupils. You just smile.

"I feel high when you touch me," you say. "Just being near you is drug enough."

Yeah, Jason's now feeling a healthy amount of paranoia. It's not that you don't stop by or that you're not nice. No, you're the sweetest creature Jason's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

But wanting to touch him? Thinking he's beautiful? Calling him your prince? Either you're drugged or he's died again and found paradise.

Then again, he probably wouldn't still be in Gotham if this were paradise. You'd definitely be here, though.

"Right. Your eyes are fine." Jason lets go of your face. "You sure you didn't take anything? Drink anything? Run into anyone?"

"I drank tea," you say, gazing up at him. "And I petted a fat orange cat. Don't you want a cat?"

"I surely do. You drank tea?"

"Mmhm. It was almost as amazing as you."

Jason nods and takes your hand. "Okay. We're going to the Cave."

"How come?" you ask, but you don't protest as he leads you out and into the elevator.

"Because I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, pushing the button labeled one. You're definitely not okay, but he doesn't want to worry you.

"Oh." You lean against Jason's arm. He stiffens and looks down at you. You just burrow into his side. "'Cause you love me?"

Breath catches in his throat. You can't mean that. Do you even know what you're saying? No, impossible.

You look up when he's silent for too long. "Jay-Jay? Didja hear me?"

"Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I did."

You look at him, big eyes sweet. "Don't you love me too? I love you."

Jason swallows hard. "I, um, don't think you're in your right mind."

Your lip quivers. Oh, God. No, please don't cry, please don't—

"You don't love me?" you ask, tears welling.

"I do love you," Jason says quickly, panicking at your distress. "I do. Shit. Please don't cry, honey. I do love you."

You frown, cheeks wet. "You're just saying that! You hate me!"

Jason shakes his head. "No, no! Oh, never, I could never hate ya, honest! I was just... um, this is the first time we've said it to each other, y'know? I do love you. Have for a long time now."

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, soaking up your tears. You sniffle but accept this, nodding.

"Oh. I'm sure I've told you that I love you before. I love you so much, Jason. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

God, this is fucking torture. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, Jason takes a deep breath, lets you link your fingers with his, and leads you out to the street. The universe is intent in never granting him a normal night. Noted.

There's no way you're in your right mind. Jason's figured this from the start. But that doesn't make the way you look at him, like he's anybody worth looking at, any less painful.

He pulls out his phone, shoots a quick text to Dick. ETA 10 min.

Dick responds two seconds later. What's up?

Possible Code 12.

Jason pockets his phone, running through potential reasons for what did this to you. Ivy's not wreaking havoc tonight, as far as he knows.

Meanwhile, you're in another world, humming and holding his hand. Jason's thought about this many times, holding your hand and taking you for rides, you adoring him, hugging him, kissing him. He's nothing if not a masochist.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jason says, and you immediately turn to him, like a flower showing its face to the sun. Jason is no one's sun, though. He's more like the worm under your boot.

"Hm?" you ask, stroking his arm. Jason does his best to be normal about it.

"We're gonna, um, go to the Cave. You okay on my bike?"

You glance at his bike, and there's a tinge of apprehension on your face. Jason reaches for your shoulder, stops, then forces himself to touch you. You're not going to recoil from him, not in this state. And he's not doing it for himself; he's only touching you so that you'll let him take you to the Manor and figure out what's what.

He's not a bastard for holding your shoulder, right? He's doing it just so that you'll be safe.

(It doesn't matter. Jason knows he's a bastard for being in your life at all.)

You lean into him when he touches your shoulder.

"Never been on your bike, Jay," you say.

"I know. But I swear to you that you're safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right? Never."

You nod. "Yeah. You always look out for me. 'S part of why I love you so much."

Good God. Jason's going to be a ball of self-hatred for the next millenia over this.

He puts his spare helmet on you, helping you fit the chin guard underneath.

"Okay?" he asks.

You give him a thumbs-up. Jason smiles and puts his own helmet on.

"You gotta hold on real tight, okay? As tight as you can. Don't worry 'bout hurting me."

"Mmkay!"

He helps you mount the bike first, then follows. As soon as he's on, you wrap your arms around his middle and smush your helmet into his back.

How long has he dreamed about this? Taking you on late-night rides, feeling you pressed against him, squealing as he floats through traffic (he'd never speed the way he does when he's alone; Jason doesn't give a shit about his own body, but your safety matters).

"The bike is loud, so I'm not gonna hear you if you say something, but if you want me to stop, tap my shoulder three times, okay?"

"Okay, Jaylove." You squeeze him in what's clearly a hug. "Ready."

Jason's not sure he is. It's been a long time since anyone's touched him, much less someone he's head over heels for. You're so trusting, it makes him ache. Jason's just glad he's the first jerk you laid your eyes upon instead of the magic you're under pushing you into the arms of someone dangerous.

He starts up his bike. Jason's had guests on his bike before, mostly his brothers and, once, the old lady who runs the tea shop down the block.

He's never had a lovely thing like you snuggled up to him, clinging to him. Jason feels rabid. He feels like he needs to be shot and put out of his misery.

He follows all of the road rules so you won't be scared. You don't tap his shoulder or shake, so Jason figures you're fine. He's good. He's being good for you.

Jason slows as he goes down the ramp to the Cave entrance. He stops at the mouth of the Cave and dismounts first, pulling off his helmet.

"You alright in there?" he asks, offering his hand.

You wrap your arms around his neck and Jason wobbles as he recalibrates and snakes an arm around your shoulders instead and helps you off that way. He removes your helmet. You blink at the new light, then look at him, moony-eyed once again.

"I was kinda scared," you admit. "But I trust you, Jaybee. Always."

"Got you here in one piece, didn't I?" he says, winking at you.

"Uh-huh!"

Jason sees what you're going to do before you try. He sees the way you look at his lips, how you rear back, ready to leap and kiss him.

He redirects you immediately, preferring that to making you cry again. He hates it when you cry. Your soft mouth lands on his jaw instead.

Jason smiles, strained. You're annoyed at the fact that you missed, and Jason can see that you're about to try again when Dick and Tim come into view.

He's never been more thrilled to see his brothers.

"Fellow bretheren," Jason says. He knows his voice is thin. "Funny seein' you here."

You're briefly distracted and wave to be polite. But then you force Jason's left ear to your level and catch the lobe between your teeth.

Holy fuck. Jason nearly buckles at the sensation. He's never understood the ears as an erogenous zone before—now he gets it. He's ashamed of how heat pools in his gut as you nip his ear.

Jason balances you with an arm around your waist, gingerly trying to both hide his reaction and separate you. He accomplishes neither. Tim's eyebrows are at his hairline; Dick's mouth is open, no doubt ready to make a smart-ass comment.

"Well, it's nice to see you two so... affectionate," Dick says, holding back a grin.

Jason rolls his eyes. "I need you to run tests. They showed up to my door like this, all over me."

"Yeah, that is weird," Tim says.

"Thank you very much for that, Timbit," Jason grumbles. You kiss under his ear and weave your fingers through his hair. Jason manages to get your hands off, but your mouth is still firmly planted on his neck. He clears his throat. Normal!

"I dunno, Jason," Dick says. "It's not that weird. People fall in love every day."

And, okay. Jason can do teasing. He can even do borderline psychotic remarks. That's part of having siblings. He's made a few in his day. They've all stabbed or shot each other.

But now Dick is just being cruel.

Jason scowls. "Take their blood so we can fucking get this over with. They're clearly under a love spell."

His scathing tone surprises Dick, but it really startles you. You've moved away from his ear (Jason is both relieved and disappointed) and return to cradling his arm. You're alarmed by his reply.

"Jaylove?" you ask. "What happened? Are you mad?"

Jaylove? Jason sees Tim mouth. He forces himself to focus on you, be gentle for you.

"Hm, no, not mad at ya, sweetheart. Sorry 'bout that. But we need to run some medical tests on ya, 'kay? Can we do that?"

"Sure," you chirp, linking your arm with his.

Dick and Tim slip into Work Mode. Jason appreciates that. His nerves are frayed. He senses a self-destructive episode coming on after you're cured. Maybe he'll throw himself into a bar fight tonight.

"Symptoms?" Tim asks, going to the computer.

"Being in love with me," Jason says dryly.

"Besides that. Any physical symptoms like dizziness or nausea? Recklessness?"

"No, didn't notice any sickness. Not reckless; they did everything I said." Jason swallows, says the next part quietly, fearfully. "Probably jump into the Hudson if I asked."

Tim nods sharply. Dick prepares to draw your blood. Again, you're apprehensive. But Jason soothes you, pets you, and you're leaning into him like a cat in its favorite patch of sun as Dick takes your blood.

"I wanna get married," you say as red fills the second vial.

Dick shoots him a sympathetic look. Jason looks away.

"Soon, honey," Jason says, ignoring how his stomach's a pit.

He didn't think about love or relationships when he came back. Didn't care, not when he had revenge to plot.

But after all that was over, after he met you, after he found a reason to keep living, Jason started thinking about it.

And what he realized is that he's never getting married.

By choice? Yes, sure. Jason loves pretending he has a choice in anything. Sure, he chooses to abstain from marriage, like normal people out there do. But really, he avoids attachment because it wouldn't be fair to anyone. He knows he's not made for that. His death made him unsalvageable. It's a miracle he's here at all. How dare he ask for more?

And inside, he chokes on a vine of hatred for everyone else who can find someone. Who's capable of loving and being loved. It even, to Jason's shame, has reared its head at you, whispered in his ear about how you're not damaged, so of course you'll find someone one day. Of course you'll leave him eventually. It would be stupid of him to hope otherwise.

"When?" you ask as Dick starts on the third vial. You don't even notice. Dick could probably drain you dry as long as Jason's in front of you. "When can we get married?"

"How 'bout next month?" Jason says without thinking. He would. He'd marry you tomorrow.

You think about this for a moment, then nod. "Yes, that would be good. I've always wanted a fall wedding."

"Yeah? I always liked the idea of marrying in the spring. All the flowers."

"No," you say. "Pollen's out. You'd be sneezing your head off."

Jason laughs, then wants to cry, because you know that he's allergic to pollen.

"Yeah, y'right," he says, voice thick. "Fall wedding's better."

"Alright, all done!" Dick says, forcefully cheerful. He removes the needle and puts a Bandaid on the inside of your elbow. You rest your head on Jason's arm. Jason tries not to boil himself in a fire of misery. You probably won't even remember this.

Dick watches you both, then tugs your hand. "Hey, you mind helping me fill out some info? For the tests."

Your mouth shrivels. You look at Jason, and he can't believe he's your North Star, magic or not.

"I don't wanna leave Jason," you say.

"He'll be right here," Dick says quickly. "Won't leave your sight for a second. But I need your help."

"Just for a minute?" you ask.

Dick nods. "One minute."

You sigh and turn to Jason. "I'll be right back."

Jason nods, tries to smile. "Sure. I'll be here."

He'll be here. Forever and ever and ever...

Wait a second. Tea. Jason jolts.

"Tim. They said they drank tea. Could be something there."

"On it," Tim says. "Dick, we need a mouth swab."

"Right." He turns to you. "Can I—"

"No," you say, and march back to Jason. "You said a minute."

Jason would laugh at the pout on your face, the way you plop yourself next to him and curl around him like he's a new toy. He would laugh. If he could find the humor.

Dick looks at him. Jason sighs.

"Honey?" You hum. "We just need one more test, yeah? Q-tip on your tongue. Not the most pleasant, but it'll be quick. Promise."

"Okay," you say immediately, hugging his arm.

Jason knows it's a spell, or maybe a lab-made chemical. But he's still awed by how quickly you acquiesce. How you show no worry when Dick approaches because Jason's right there, patting your hand.

Dick swabs your mouth. You cough three times after, most of your body on Jason.

"Interesting how they're not lustful," Dick says.

"What," Jason says.

"Okay, the ear thing was..." Dick shrugs. "But it's not mindless. It's actually the most reasonable love spell I've ever seen. Like, their desires for you don't feel manufactured, they feel—"

"Don't," Jason snaps. "Don't fuckin' say it."

Dick holds up his hands. "It was just an observation. You've seen Ivy's pollen doses. This one seems different."

"Fine. Ivy's taking a break from the orgies. Doesn't mean this is real."

Jason's not stupid enough to hope.

"It can't be Ivy," Tim says, and Jason almost startles. He forgot Tim was there, so wrapped up in you. "No reports of Ivy attacks. And the substance, whatever it was, wasn't inhaled. It was injested."

You wrap your arms around Jason's neck and smush your face against his. You're warm and smell good. Jason feels feral.

He holds you with a hand on your back, mind turning.

"Sweetheart," he says. You hum. "You said you drank tea after work. Where exactly did you go?"

"Dunno," you say, spacey. "Went into a tea shop that's never been there before. And an old lady invited me in. She said I looked so sad. And I was, Jaybee! How did she know?"

"I don't know, honey," Jason says quietly, even though he has a suspicion. He's never letting you walk home alone again.

Tea shop. That's what he gets for trying to be a good Samaritan. How dare she drug you?

"Hm. Well, she gave me a tea sample, said it would make all my problems disappear. Then I petted her cat named Darcy. Like that book you like!"

God, Jason just wants to hug you tight and kiss your face. It's awful of him to think of you as cute in your state, he knows.

"Track their routes," Jason says. "They take two different ones home. One crosses Bank Street, the other goes over the bridge."

"I'd call you a stalker but I really have no right," Tim says, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"No shit," Jason mumbles, letting you play with his fingers.

"Jason," Dick says quietly. He glances at you, then at his brother. "If it's too much, we can sedate them."

"No. We don't know how it'll react to the tea. It's not Ivy's brew."

Dick frowns. He knows Jason's right. Jason knows he's right.

"Okay, I got something. Magic signatures from a building on Tenth Street," Tim says. "And I think I'm onto an antidote."

"I'll check it out," Dick says, going to suit up. He looks at Jason. "Are you-?"

Jason nods. "I'm fine. Go."

So Dick does. Tim is able to make an antidote within the hour. He gives it to Jason who injects it into your neck. He feels guilty even though this is what’ll cure you. You wince at the pinch but you don't so much as whimper, endlessly trusting.

"They'll probably crash soon," Tim says, out of your earshot. "I don't know if you should risk the bike."

Jason sighs. Tim's right, and it makes him all the more agitated that his brothers have been helpful and even kind of nice during the whole thing.

You're going to crash soon. Jason has no choice but to bring you up to the Manor.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, taking your hand and standing.

"Where're we goin'?" you ask, yawning.

"Goin’ t’bed, honey. Aren't ya tired?"

"Hmm. Mmhmm."

"Yeah, thought so."

Jason leads you up the stairs and out of the Cave. He helps keep you steady as you trip up the stairs. He's tempted to just carry you, but he feels like that might be overkill.

Once at the top of the stairs, Jason stops. Swallows.

He hasn't been up here in a while. He slept in his room once after he returned, after a nasty encounter with Scarecrow.

"Wanna sleep in your bed, Jay," you mumble, cheek against his arm.

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Okay, love."

You go to his room. It's clean, as usual—Alfred never let it get dusty. Jason had hoped that if you ever saw his room it would be in much different circumstances. Normal circumstances.

But, well. Here you are.

"Hmm, 's nice," you say as Jason pulls back the bedspread and helps you out of your shoes. You start to take off your pants and he panics.

"Uh! Uh, baby, maybe keep the pants on. You might get cold."

You frown in confusion. "Doesn't feel cold."

"Yeah, but, whew, Alfred blasts the AC! Jus' keep 'em on."

Jason cannot handle seeing you in your underwear. He draws the line there.

"'Kay," you say, and flop onto the sheets. You wiggle around, getting comfortable.

Jason sits in the fat armchair in the corner of the room. Immediately, you sit up.

"Why're you over there?" you ask, eyes wide.

Oh, boy.

"Oh. I was, um, gonna read for a bit. I'll come in in a while."

Your lip trembles. No—

"Don't leave me, Jaybee. Don't leave! Stay with me. I love you!"

Jason rubs his forehead. "Honey—"

"You hate me! You do! I annoy you." Tears gather in your eyes.

Jason hurries to the edge of his bed, climbing in in his jeans and socked feet.

"No, no, love, we covered this. I don't hate ya, hm? Where'd ya get a silly thing like that?"

You quiet as he scoots in beside you. Then you throw most of your limbs over him. Jason stiffens.

"Just got scared," you say, and kiss his chest. "Promise you won't leave?"

Jason breathes in. Breathes out.

"Yeah. I promise."

And he stays.

You wake up with a faint headache and a dry throat. Sunlight peeks through the blinds. You feel warm and safe and well-rested, despite the slight pains.

You stretch, expecting air. Instead, you touch skin. You open your eyes.

Oh. You're in a bedroom.

No, scratch that. You see framed pictures of the Bats, books on shelves.

You're in Jason Todd's childhood bedroom. With the aforementioned tucked under your arm and leg.

You jerk away so hard, you land on the carpeted floor below.

Jason's up instantly, head poking over the bed. His eyes widen.

"Shit! Y'alright? C'mere."

He gets up and practically scoops you into a standing position. Your brain short-circuits: big strong man strong big good nice. Then you recover.

"Um," you say. "Uh. Hmm. Hi."

Jason smiles tightly. "Hey."

"What... how-?"

"Right. How much do you remember?"

You try to think. You remember walking home, drinking tea, an affectionate orange cat. You remember hands on your face and your stomach swooping on a motorcycle and a gentle voice. So gentle.

"You were magicked," Jason says quickly. "It was a, uh, tea shop. Dick's checking it out. You, um, came to me and I took you here and you got an antidote and you didn't want me to, um, leave. So, yeah. Sorry."

You tilt your head. "Why are you apologizing, Jason?"

He sighs. "Just 'cause."

You have no idea what that means. But you feel like Jason's telling you a very condensed version of what happened.

"What was the magic?" you ask.

He winces. "Love spell. You thought you were... in love with me."

Jason says it like he's the one who charmed you. Like he's ashamed of it.

"Oh," you say. Well, you certainly didn't need a spell for that to happen.

"Yeah." Jason's staring at your and his shoes by the door. "But everything's fine now. I can take you home. Dick and Tim'll take care of the tea shop witch."

He doesn't wait for a response, darting to the door and slipping into his shoes. You rush forward and close the door as Jason opens it. He looks at you in confusion.

"Jason," you say softly. "What happened?"

"Whaddya mean? I told you."

"Jason. I've known you for three years. You think I don't know when you're not telling me something?"

He looks at his feet. One of his socks has a hole in the toe.

"There's nothin' to tell," he mumbles. "Magic stuff. Happens all the time. Business as usual."

You frown. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jay. I admittedly don't remember a lot."

Jason's expression is relief but there's a heaviness to his shoulders. "Well, 's for the best, really. Magic messes with your head."

"Did I make you uncomfortable, Jason? Not letting you leave and—God, I can't imagine how I was on the spell."

He shakes his head fervently. "No! No, no, my God, no. You didn't—you could never—I mean, I wasn't... fuck. No. You didn't make me uncomfortable."

"If you're sure," you say.

He nods. "Hundred percent."

Jason doesn't sound like he's lying. You're pretty good at detecting it, especially when it comes to his feelings.

So why is he acting weird?

Well, duh. A love spell. You probably freaked him out, especially since you really do love him.

"I hope we can still be friends," you offer.

Jason turns to the door.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "'Course we're still friends."

It shouldn't make you ache. Jason's perfectly in the right to not reciprocate how you feel. How can he reciprocate something he doesn’t even know exists?

"You, uh..." Jason scratches the back of his neck. He faces you once more. "You said last night that you were sad. When you were coming home. I just wanted to say, y'know... you can talk to me. 'Bout anything."

This will make all of your problems disappear, she had said. It'd tasted like kombucha—you hadn't had a lot of faith.

Jason begins to open the door. You slide in front of him and slam the door shut with your back. He steps back in surprise.

"Wh—"

"I have to tell you something!" you blurt.

Jason stills. "Okay."

"I adopted you a cat," you say.

He squints. "What?"

"Well, she's still at the shelter but I put her on reserve. Of a sort. I have a friend who works there. She's black and white and likes to cuddle and has two different colored eyes but she can't see very well. Her name is... whatever you want to name her. Because she's yours. And I think you'll love her."

He nods slowly. "I, uh, thanks. Thank you. I was thinking about adopting a—"

"I was sad last night because I kept thinking about how you're gonna love this cat I got you but you'll never love me, and how that's the fucking worst feeling in the world."

You've stunned him silent. Shit.

Seconds tick by. A minute. Two minutes.

"Okay," you say, wanting to jump out of Jason's two-story window. "I'm gonna go drop off the face of the Earth now. Bye."

You open the door. Jason closes it by caging you against it.

And then he kisses you.

Jason pours everything into the kiss. He's not a perfect kisser but it's good. It's magic. He holds your face completely, shuts out the entire world. Kisses the breath out of you.

Yes, you could go on. It's fantastic. It's fireworks. It's sunbeams.

And actually, it feels like the most normal thing in the world, kissing Jason Todd.

[slimeywooper]

Labmas AU - Unintended Consequences

Chapter 17 Part 1 - Retribution/Renewal

When you wake up in the morning, you already have a goal in mind: make it through the day so you can find Nobori and speak with him. You had already decided yesterday to ask him how Kudari was doing and what exactly he and Colress were talking about that upset him enough to teleport. As for Colress, hopefully he will be over his weird mood. The unnerving way he looked at you, coupled with the fact he wasn't being belligerent, set off alarm bells. It's already Thursday, If you're as inoffensive as possible to him, perhaps he will let you see Kudari tomorrow, so you won't have to wait the whole weekend to be able to apologize.

Quickly preparing, you head to the lower floor. Deciding against breakfast, you walk straight to the elevator, riding it down and disembarking when the doors open. Marcello is once more guarding the lab entrance. He gives you a strained smile as you pass by. Continuing inside, you expect to see Colress when you walk through the door, but he isn't there. Maybe you'll find him by his office again. Walking to the end of the hall, you board the elevator and descend further.

Getting off at the second lab floor, you follow the same path as yesterday to reach his office. Upon arriving, you knock lightly, announcing your presence, "Sorry to bother you, but I've come for my shift. Is there anywhere in particular you need me?" There's no answer, nor do you hear any noise from the other side. Shrugging, you return to the elevator and head to the bottom floor. Nobori will probably know where he is. On top of that, you can ask the questions you were saving for after work. Walking to his room, you stop just outside. Lifting your hand to knock, the door opens before you make contact with it.

"(Y/N)," Nobori greets you.

He is looking the worst you've ever seen him. Slouching more than usual, frown even lower, and eyes puffy. It appears he has been crying. "Are you okay?" you ask in a concerned tone.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not. There was… an incident last night." Nobori looks towards the floor before continuing, "Kudari is no longer with us. He has passed."

Taking a step back, you question him, "What do you mean? I just saw him a couple days ago. What happened?"

"I can't divulge that just yet. I need more time to come to terms with it." Head lifting, he returns your gaze. "But, he's here with me now, in spirit. Please, come in. I would rather not discuss private matters where others may overhear." He moves to the side, letting you pass.

Entering his room, he closes the door and you walk further inside, turning to face him when you near his bed. "I don't understand. How can he be dead? I was just with him."

"As I said, I'm not ready…" voice wavering, he pauses momentarily to collect himself. "Please give me time."

It doesn't feel real. How can something like this happen so suddenly? But if Nobori isn't able to reveal what happened, hopefully he can answer the question that immediately begins to stain your soul, "Then… can you at least tell me… it wasn't because of me, was it? He didn't hurt himself…"

Quickly shaking his head, he assures you, "No, it wasn't anything you did. You shouldn't think such a thing. Kudari was sad, but he's always been able to pick himself up from his depression. This was something… entirely different. When I am emotionally capable, I will tell you exactly how it transpired."

This wasn't supposed to happen. You were under the impression you would have around twenty more years of Kudari's antics, of his friendship. Though he may have been confined to his room, there was still the ability to see him, and speak with him. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say, or how to feel. It's as if I've been run over."

"That's perfectly understandable. If not for the fact that I can still interact with him, I wouldn't have accepted someone telling me he was dead." Nobori swallows before commenting, "He's always with me now. Even when I want to be alone, I can't bring myself to block him out like I do all the other spirits." Getting a distant look on his face, he mutters, "Kudari's been telling me things. I find the more he says, the more I can't bear. There was so much I did not know, or realize, was happening. All having to do with how Dr. Colress treated him. If only I had known, perhaps I could have…" Looking down again, he adds, "I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. Sorry to burden you with my pain. I know you are feeling enough of your own."

"Please don't apologize. What you feel isn't a burden, and I would never think it was," you chastise him as gently as possible. It's true, your heart is breaking, but Nobori has lost his brother. What he's experiencing must be tenfold to what you are. "You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I'm here for you." Taking a few steps to reach his bed, you sit, motioning for him to join you.

Nobori follows, sitting by your side. "Thank you. Your friendship is… more than I deserve. Would it bother you terribly if I were to ramble for a bit? Only to get some thoughts out of my head."

"Not at all." You don't mind being his shoulder to cry on, and hopefully you can keep it together long enough to give him some reprieve from the awful emotions seeping through him.

Gathering his thoughts, he begins, "I truly believe that had Dr. Colress only attempted to create one hybrid, it would not have been a successful experiment. There was something about the two of us being together… maybe it's because we are the clones of twins… We could only have been given life in conjunction with the other. But now… I've lost my smile." His voice cracks slightly, but he retains his composure. "For much of his life, he was angry. But I think his loneliness eclipsed that. Though we both had each other, we were also alone. He was the only Galvantula hybrid, and I was the only Chandelure hybrid. There were certain aspects about each other we could never truly understand, though I have a better idea now." Shaking his head, he adds, "Whenever I would return from a mission, he would ask if I got to see anywhere new. I realize now just how envious he was of my freedom, but he was still so excited to hear stories about the outside. Even after everything I had done… We weren't as close in our adult lives as we were as children, but he was still my brother, and I loved him dearly. He was my reason for being." Looking over to you, he says, "You came to see me, and I have surely ruined your day with this news. What is it you wanted?"

The question isn't accusatory, but curious. You reply, "I actually came down here looking for Colress. He wasn't waiting for me like he usually is, and I figured if anyone knew his location it would be you."

Nobori nods in understanding. "Dr. Colress is currently indisposed due to Kudari's passing. All of his work has been halted for the day. You should head back to your dorm."

"That's for the best. I don't think I can put up with him right now." The less you have to deal with today, the better. Placing a hand on his arm, you ask, "Do you think you can let me in Kudari's room again sometime? So I can be around what made him happy?"

He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I can show you his room, yes, but I'm afraid all of his things have been disposed of already. Just his bed was harvested, most likely to study the silk."

For a second time, the wind is knocked out of you. Colress threw Kudari's stuff away, right after he died? Does this man love nothing? Not even the child he helped raise? "Oh… that's terrible…" is the half-hearted reply you manage. Screaming and throwing things is what you really feel like doing.

"Don't fret, I have something of his." Releasing your hand and reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a wrapped handkerchief. "He wants me to give you this," Nobori places it softly in your open hands, and you gently unwrap the fabric to reveal a name badge for Kudari. It bore a younger picture of him, before he became so angry and was locked in his room semi-permanently. "He says he never meant to frighten you and that he only wants you to remember him positively. Kudari really, truly loved you, albeit in his own way. I beseech you to keep this card hidden. It was retrieved from Dr. Colress' desk. I'm sure he would be furious if he found out I took it, but I can't deny this request from Kudari."

You hesitate, debating if it is proper to accept it. "Are you sure? I can't take this if you don't have anything…"

"Please, he desires that I to give it to you. Besides, I can see him anytime," he smiles at you, attempting to ease your doubts.

"Thank you." Wrapping the card up again and placing it in your coat pocket, you say softly, "Can you tell him I'm sorry? It wasn't my intention to hurt him. We were both just so different, there were miscommunications…" You can't finish your sentence. This is too much to take. Tears begin to spill down your cheeks. Lunging for Nobori, you wrap your arms around him impossibly tight and begin sobbing uncontrollably.

Returning the gesture, he rests his face on the top of your head. "I don't need to tell him. He heard you, and he's sorry to make you feel so bad. Though he also admits it's nice knowing someone cared for him enough to feel such sadness at his death."

Of course you feel sad. Anyone that wasn't a monster would have loved Kudari after getting to know him. If only you had told him just how much you cared. Even if he took it the wrong way, at least he would have known that someone other than Nobori loved him while he was alive.

After a few minutes of consoling you, Nobori pushes you back slightly. Looking at your face, he says, "(Y/N), do you need my help returning to your room? I don't mean to kick you out, but I need some more time alone with Kudari. He never seems to stop talking, and I'm compelled to listen to him. I don't want you to feel I'm ignoring you, on top of my mood shifts from when he tells me upsetting things."

Quickly regaining your composure, you respond, "No, I'll be fine. And it's alright, I'm not bothered. Please, if you need to see me, come to my room at any time. I'll let you two talk now." You stand up, walking to the door with Nobori behind you.

"Sorry again, for ruining your day," he laments, opening the door for you.

"It wasn't your fault," you comment, slowly shaking your head.

There's a flash of grief on his face before he says, "Thank you for speaking with me. Try to think of all the positive times spent with Kudari. I'm sure I will see you sometime tomorrow."

After stepping out, the door is closed, and you are left to make the journey back. Nobori didn't have to tell you to return to your dorm. It would have been an automatic response after finding out such terrible news. Your poor, sweet friend. There's so many things he wanted to do. If you had agreed to escape with him, would he still be alive now? Would you both have been able to run away and live on your own? Colress never would have let you go willingly, sending people to find the two of you. But Kudari would have defended you to the death. Was there no way around this outcome? Is it fate that took him away, and would have taken him in other instances?

Before you know it, you're already entering your room, having been in a trance along the way, ignoring everyone and everything around you. All you want to do is sleep, so you don't experience these awful emotions. Sitting on the bed, you take off your shoes and glance over to the nightstand, eyes landing on an item that causes you to become unsettled. Seeing your Switch, you jump up and grab it, ripping the cables out and unplugging it. You wrap them around the console and place it in your dresser. Leaving it out would just be a constant reminder that Kudari is gone. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieve the handkerchief containing his name badge. After studying it one more time, you fold it back and place it under your pillow. Nobori told you to keep it hidden, not only was this likely the safest place, it would ensure a part of Kudari would be close to you.

Losing him has a somewhat similar feeling to losing your grandfather, but now you have an adult's perspective of death, and its permanence. Kudari had become your reason for working hard, because you wanted to help him gain some freedom. Now that he's gone, nothing really matters. Why are you still here? Maybe you can beg Colress to let you return to your world. You've certainly been fired from your old job for failure to show, and your home probably isn't up to date on the rent, unless Team Plasma was successful in their attempts at contacting the government, making some kind of deal with them to keep the portal accessible. Getting another job and a different place to live wouldn't be impossible.

But there's still one more person you care about here, and leaving would mean abandoning him at one of the hardest times of his life. Tomorrow, you endeavor to stay with Nobori for longer. It's not good to be alone too often after something like this happens, even if he's technically still able to be with Kudari in some way. He has the same life span as his brother, and you want to be with him as much as possible, not taking even a second for granted.

Nothing in your life has ever made you feel this hopeless. Surely after something so awful happens, there must be good to balance it out? After the initial crutch of learning to live without him, maybe you and Nobori can go somewhere. See the world, just like Kudari had dreamed of. The tears return in steady streams. You place your head on your pillow, imagining it to be his web, with him sitting beside you, excitedly telling you why some game is better than the other. Wishing you could go back in time, and stay there the whole night. Letting him know how much you loved him. "I'm sorry Kudari," you utter, before breaking down.

[agenthemingway]

the answer doesn't come immediately and hemingway starts wondering if he should just repeat everything he's just said—he wouldn't mind and he wouldn't be surprised if he had to. they're all tired and distracted at this point, their workdays ( probably unnecessarily ) extended past their regular working hours. hemingway's been meaning to go home for a while now, knowing full well that he needs to get some rest, but the obsessive, fixer part of him kept him busy anyway. well, busy might be a stretch—useless work probably, most of it. if he sees the words restricted access anywhere else, he might just go insane.

"no, it's fine. i get it," he says as he watches dickinson displaying just how all over the place he is. hemingway wonders if this is already the time to drop his favorite question—the how are you, how are you doing, are you alright. it's been easy to just know when to ask with everyone else but he finds it difficult, borderline impossible, when it comes to gael because ... well, that's the thing. hemingway doesn't even know.

somewhere between dickinson coming back and london disappearing, hemingway's lost the ability to read gael, to figure out what he's thinking. and these days, it seems like something got reversed and now jj feels like gael's the one who's always trying to get a read on him. for once in his life, hemingway chooses to be careful with his words around someone—not that he has anything to hide but because he wants to make a good impression, make it look like he's got everything under control.

which probably makes it seem like he has something to hide.

this is probably not the time to ask yet; it's a larger conversation hemingway would rather have outside the office because with gael, london's not the only thing jj wants to ask about. dickinson's return, considering the timing and circumstances, is also a hot topic hemingway would love to dig into—for genuine and strictly personal reasons. he just wants his friends to be fine.

"i don't know that place but you got me interested. ready to inhale my weight in toni's pizza," he says as he clasps his hands and rubs them together, a bright grin splitting his face in half. he follows in gael's footsteps and moves to his desk, mimics his teammate's actions while putting his desk in order—which ends up looking just as messy as it did in the beginning. hemingway's good with mess, though. as long as he's got it under control.

"my treat, man, no problem," he says, waves it off like it's nothing—and it is. he could probably buy gael lunch everyday for the rest of his life and barely make a dent in the money the bureau's thrown at him in the last decade. the money's just sort of there because it's not like hemingway has anything to spend it on. maybe he should get into some expensive hobby. or buy another house. for what? he'll probably just end up visiting it once a year and that will be it. "i'll poke at them tomorrow, get your money right," he tells dickinson, adds the promise to the to-do list that seems to be neverending these days. good. better to keep busy than end up overthinking everything. which hemingway probably subconsciously does while busy anyway.

"i can drive us. you get dj privileges and i hope you understand how big of an honor this is," hemingway says as the head out, taking the elevator down to the parking lot. he's joking—or half-joking because he does take his music very seriously—to keep the atmosphere light. he's decided to save the questions poking at dickinson's wellbeing for later, after they've been fed and as far from the office as tonight will allow them for.

"managed anything productive tonight?" he asks on the way down, fully expecting a big no, similar to what he would've said if asked the same question. maybe he shouldn't have asked—he'll just get himself riled up all over again about these stupid restrictions and nobody telling them anything. hemingway's been trying not to think about it too much these past few hours. he's running around in circles, no wonder. "you know what—don't even have to answer that. i said turn off our brains and that's ... definitely not gonna help," he says, makes a face that pretty much sums up this entire day—annoying, exhausting, and complicated for no reason. "how's gomita doing?" he tries instead.

In the near silence of the virtually empty bullpen, the hypnotic ticking of an office clock slowly dulled the hotly simmering fury inside Agent Dickinson’s heart into a sedated, detached placidity. He had been staring blankly at the small handful of documents fanned out on his desk for the better half of an hour, give or take. It was hard to tell, but since no one had bothered him about going home yet, it was unlikely he had been doing it for too long.

Under normal circumstances, Dickinson would have never been caught dead wasting valuable time like this, but as it stood, zoning out was as good of a use of his time as anything else. The bureau might as well have given him a folder full of black construction paper and told him to go fuck himself. The few documents deemed safe enough for him to have could offer little insight into Agent London’s intentions, the vast majority of the information stricken out with bars of black ink. He was an agent only in name; his clearance basically level reduced to that of an entry-level position upon his reinstatement.

Dickinson wasn’t sure why he had expected anything different, wishful thinking perhaps, the foolish notion that all his years of loyalty to the cause would amount to anything despite ”The Incident” six months ago. He should have known better, had known better the moment he was ushered away to that cute little mandatory ‘welcome home’ interview. The conclusion had been obvious.

The only reason he had been brought back in the first place was because the bureau needed to check all their bases and ensure their last problem child wasn't involved with the current one. Logically, it made sense that the higher-ups might think he was sympathetic to London, but the very thought that the dignitaries would dare to insinuate that Dickinson would ally himself with the lunatic actively destroying years of his own hard work burned Dickinson up inside. But it was his own fault, in the end. He had trusted the wrong people and ended up being the fool left holding the bag.

“That’s just how the cookie crumbles,” he thought bitterly. There was nothing he could do about it now, though; the hindsight was meaningless when the Dickinson from six months ago didn’t envision ever coming back to the bureau (alive, at least). All he could do now was prove himself again.

Dickinson's eyes dipped down to scan the last file he had been looking over, searching for absolution in the face of his own miscalculations.

MISSION FILE #█████ 𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴 : ███████████ 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 : █████ 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴 : ███████████ TEXAS 𝚃𝚈𝙿𝙴 : ███████████████ 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚂 : ONE █████████████████ 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙵 : 𝚄𝙽𝙰𝚅𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴

But he could find no salvation in the fragmented annals, it was just a wild goose chase. A puzzle with the majority of the pieces purposely hidden by the very people asking him to solve it. Dickinson clicked his tongue, irritation boiling over. What the hell did the Temporal Bureau, in all their “infinite wisdom,” expect him to do with granules of information? Happily sit around twiddling his thumbs while London was running loose and ruining the timeline? It was unbearable. The forced inaction was slowly driving him insane. The fact that everyone else seemed all too willing to comply and continue with the facade that their leadership had their shit together only agitated him further.

While sure, there had been murmurs of disapproval and a couple of pairs of eyes found his in the meeting room after the pencil pushers went over their lackluster game plan, none had stepped up to openly object. While Dickinson had expected blind obedience from the likes of Faulkner and Stein, he found the lack of pushback from the others demoralizing. But Dickinson wasn’t stupid, he could read the writing on the wall that kept everyone’s tongue in check, the reason why this overly cautious approach was necessary.

There was no way of knowing if there were any more traitors in their midst. And once the focus was off of him, and if Baldwin was cleared as well, the others would not be spared from suspicion.

The sound of shoes on the tile floor pulled Dickinson out of his thoughts. Looking up, he matched gazes with Agent Hemingway, the other man smiling down at him with an expression Dickinson used to find charming. He found it distinctly obnoxious at that very moment as he watched the other man prop himself against the desk.

In the back of his mind, Dickinson realized he was being unfair. He’d known the other agent for years, and knew mediation came second nature to JJ; so it must have been hard watching one of the longest-running partnerships in the bureau fall apart to the point where Dickinson and Faulkner wouldn’t speak anymore. And in classic JJ fashion, and like the proverbial moth to the flame, Hemingway had showed up where there was a problem. Dickinson might have found comfort in it in the past, but now he was finding it increasingly difficult to view JJ’s natural inclinations with nothing less than cold cynicism.

Perhaps it was the way Hemingway had worded the question, open-ended enough to give JJ room to pivot depending on how Dickinson answered. Or maybe it was the way Hemingway’s mannerisms felt so practiced, so formulaic; just another performance for the sake of keeping up the veneer of normalcy. Whatever the case, the sympathetic look in the other agent’s eyes felt condescending; it made Dickinson feel like some pitiful, wounded animal, cornered and baring his teeth. Like he was someone who had to be handled with kid gloves lest he have a public meltdown.

Dickinson wondered if that was exactly how JJ saw him these days. Though it annoyed Dickinson to admit, it would only make sense when he had come back to the bureau a completely different man. But he wasn’t a problem to fix, or at least he wasn’t JJ’s problem to fix. There was nothing that a third party could do to change what had happened between Dickinson and Faulkner, and so nothing anyone could do for Gael. His partnership with In-su had just reached its natural, doomed, unavoidable, pathetic end after Gael had thrown them both over the event horizon. The gravitational collapse caused by the shock of Faulkner’s dereliction after years of mutual adoration devouring everything they had built as their relationship imploded, leaving nothing but a supermassive black hole in its wake.

The only thing that could change things would be if Gael had been born in the U.S. instead of Guatemala and he and In-su had met in the military as comrades, like In-su and JJ did. Maybe if they had an established rapport when they ran into each other as trainees at the bureau, Gael would be privy to the secret that In-su held the closest, the one only JJ seemed to know, for some reason. If he and In-su had known each other sooner, for longer, then maybe—

Dickinson’s eyebrows furrowed as his thoughts came to an abrupt stop, his face felt hot. His right hand flew up to press against his forehead. Belatedly, he realized he had taken way too long to answer Hemingway’s questions. Ducking his head slightly to look up at the other man from around his fingers, Dickinson gave him what he hoped was a passable friendly smile.

“Sorry, Waymie, I feel like I just got r—,” Dickinson clamped his mouth shut so quickly he almost bit off his own tongue. His left hand joined the other to cover his face as he let out a muffled groan. Dragging his palms down his face, he tried again, weakly muttering, “...Put through the wringer.”

Sighing deeply, Dickinson removed his hands from his face and leaned back in his desk chair. “Actually, turning off my brain sounds great right about now. You know the pizza place on Fifth and Oak?” he asked, shooting the other man a warm, tired smile. "Well, it's not really a place, more like a stall on the side of the road, but I promise the food is fantastic. I know the guy there, Toni with an 'i'. He's great, you'll love Toni."

Yawning, Dickinson slowly got up and went through the motions of his usual tidying routine before stuffing the files back into the manila folder he had gotten them in and placing them in his satchel. He then began patting himself down, making sure his keys and wallet were in one of his multiple pockets.

"Ah, wait... I just remembered. The bigwigs haven’t cleared my budget for personal spending yet." Dickinson said, pointing a finger gun at Hemingway, a rueful smile slowly stretching across his face. "You don’t mind paying for me, right?"