#i'd be dead and gone if looks could kill

[craftywitchywoman]

"Like Wild Horses" - Blacktop Mojo (Official Music Video)

[doctor-who-war-doctor]

So if The Fates wanted to eat me alive I'd be okay with that.

[selineram3421]

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanon 1

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[zaldritzosrose]

I Could Be Your King (Aegon x Wife!Reader)

Request from @bridgertonbee1814, hope you like it!

Summary: Your marriage to Aegon came long before war, but it was war that threatened to tear you apart. You were the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin. Just that was enough those who claimed to support Aegon to make him question his own wife's loyalty. As did you, torn between your mother and husband. Your own feelings would make the decision for you.

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, reader is has the canon Strong features but is only described once, Aegon being a devoted husband, mentions of death, p in v sex, profanity, Aegon needing love and affection.

Words: 3525

You'd die for what I'd kill to give away. They're holding me, but I don't want to stay…

The crown was a heavy weight on Aegon’s head. You could see it every time he would enter your chambers of an evening. Preferring the warmth of your rooms over his own – once belonging to the late King Viserys. Another thing he wished not to inherit. To be King, to now sleep in his father’s chambers. He bore the weight of not only his father, your grandsire, but also the weight of the war that had broken out the moment he had the Conqueror’s Crown atop his brow.

If it wasn’t for you, he would have run. Anywhere, as far away as he could. Anywhere would have been better than how he felt now. His one beacon was you. His one constant. 

But he was afraid he would lose you.

Bury me, steadily, cold blue lips. Reaching still, holding on for one last wish…

You heard the door open, but you didn’t look up. You recognised the footsteps as your husband. But you could not bear to look anywhere but the parchment in your hand.

Lucerys was dead.

Lost to the waters around Storm’s End, torn from the skies by Aemond and Vhagar. The ink on the parchment smudged with every tear that spilled from your eyes. Your little brother gone, your uncle to blame. Your husband’s brother, to blame. 

You could feel Aegon stood behind you, his hands rested on the back of your chair. Though he said nothing. 

“He’s dead…”

Your words were barely audible. Aegon wasn’t even sure you were talking to him. He already knew, of course, it had been the topic of the council meeting he had come from. And now, looking at your tear-streaked face, he remembered the smug smile on Aemond’s. Even when his brother claimed it to be an accident, that smile remained.

“My darling I-“ 

But Aegon didn’t know what to say. What words could he say that would make you feel better? Or even simply not make you feel worse?

Would you give it all just to have a little? Would you give it all to be in the middle?

The letter was from Dragonstone. It wasn’t from your mother, but you imagined Rhaenyra was distraught. The letter had come from Princess Rhaenys, without her seal so it wouldn’t be intercepted and kept from you. War had barely started but your allegiance was being questioned.

The daughter of Rhaenyra, but the wife of Aegon. If there was any worse place to be, it was torn between two sides of a war.

We're all going down. We all want a crown…

Aegon simply stood behind you in silence. You could feel the tips of his fingers brush against your shoulders. Wanting to touch you, comfort you, but resisting.

“I assume you know? I imagine Aemond is quite proud of himself.”

Your words were harsh, but Aegon didn’t take them to heart. You were in pain, and you were right to be angry. He tried to reach out again, barely brushing the blanket wrapped around your shoulders before you had stood from your seat.

“It was the main concern of today’s council, yes.” Aegon said simply, his voice low and tentative. As though he was standing in front of a wild animal.

You were much like a dragon now, the venom in your words your fire. He could almost see the rage burning behind your eyes.

“Ah, a concern. Is the death of my brother only a mere concern!?”

Aegon stammered. That was not what he had meant, and if you hadn’t been so consumed by your pain you probably would have seen that. His hands remained outstretched, held up now as though he was surrendering.

And they all want me now. But I don't want to drown…

The letter was scrunched in your hand, but the words were branded into your memory. You had accepted such pleas, but not after the death of Lucerys. 

Your mother needs you. Your brothers need you. We all need you.

That is what Rhaenys had written. Pleading to the love you held for the other half of your family. To the mother who had fought hard against your betrothal and marriage to Aegon. Who had all but demanded, through coin pressed to a servant’s hand, that you use your marriage to him to secure the throne for her.

You wanted to scream. At Aegon, at the gods, you knew not who. You simply wished to scream. There would be suspicions about your loyalty, you knew that. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to wish to reply to. Because you were torn, feeling like you were being split down the middle. 

Half your soul tied to your mother, your brothers. The other half, to Aegon.

“That is not what I meant, my love, please…” Aegon took a tentative step forward, gauging your reaction before coming even closer.

He was a hair’s breadth from you, hands still outstretched but his whole body was tense. You didn’t move away, but you didn’t reach out for him either. Aegon could see the letter in your hand. Part of him wanted to read it. He knew there was more than grief over Lucerys in your heart. More than anger toward Aemond.

“Did they question my loyalty? Did they expect me to run back to Dragonstone and join my mother’s cause?”

Aegon’s hands began to lower, one moving up to run through his hair. Of course that would be your first thought, because you were right. After the fury directed towards Aemond, especially from his mother, the next question from the cancel had concerned you.

And Aegon hated to admit it, but for a second, he had thought the same. Would this be what turned you away from him? Would this be the one blade to break the tie between you both?

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king. I could be your...

He wanted to ask you. To demand you affirm your loyalty to him as your husband and King. But he could never do that to you. The idea that he had even questioned you, even in his mind, made him feel sick.

“They did, and I made quite sure any such words were never to be spoken again,” Aegon said gently, seeing the frown on your face ease just a little in response.

To know he had defended you, especially his council, his mother, his brother. Your heart softened just a little at the thought. Aegon moved forward again, holding one hand out to you. You wanted to take it, to feel his skin on yours, but you couldn’t move yourself to do so.

“You are my wife, my queen. Any words against you, are words against me.”

Aegon took a chance, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You didn’t move, but you didn’t push him away. He could feel the dried tears on your cheeks, his thumb wiping the ones that began to fall anew.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king. I could be your king…

His wife. His queen.

Those were your titles, but not the ones you knew we used behind your back. 

Bastard. Daughter of the false queen.

Those were the words muttered behind your back. They were not stupid enough to say them to your face. It used to hurt you. Such insults had been levied against you since you were a child. Though not as often as your brothers. But now, being married to Aegon, they had been easy to forget.

But it seemed even being crowned as his queen did not protect you.

Your past is calling back to you again. You've run so far, and still your scars are there…

“But it will not stop them thinking it, husband.” Your voice was resigned. Though your rage had dissipated, the pain was still there.

Aegon wished he could stop it. To control the words, the thoughts of those around them. This was a crown he did not even want, and now it was causing you pain that you needn’t feel. 

He was fighting a war within his home now and beyond it. And he feared he may win neither.

“Then I will do nothing but defend you, my love.”

But you knew it would never happen that way. No matter what happened, you would always be Rhaenyra’s daughter. The bastard princess.

“You have a war to fight, Aegon. We have a war to fight.”

You had a dragon; you were the queen. You would be expected to fight, even if Aegon would not say the words. But could you fight your mother, your brothers, Daemon, Rhaenys. Even Baela and Rhaena. Could you really bring yourself to take them down if you had to?

You've reached the edge, over your head, but you've gotta fight…

Days passed since the letter. Aegon had done his best to keep you and Aemond away from each other. Knowing the sight of your brother’s killer would only cause you pain. And what kind of husband would allow his wife to hurt?

He had sent Aemond on patrols, utilising the might that was Vhagar as a way to keep Aemond occupied.

As for you, he had spent as many nights as he could at your side. Hoping his presence was enough to calm your mind. To show you that his loyalties lay with you.

The words had never passed between you both. But there was an affection between you. Whether you could call it love, that was not something either had ever crossed your minds.

But more recently, it had been a constant in your thoughts. Was it your love for Aegon that stopped you replying to Rhaenys’ letter? Or was it the fear of choosing your mother over him?

Every time you thought of leaving, your heart felt heavy, and your stomach felt sick. And no reason you could think of seemed to make sense, except for love.

Aegon had returned to your chambers again that night, and he looked more tired and drawn than usual. You were already in your nightclothes, laying on your bed with a book in your hand. He didn’t even ask before stripping himself down to his smallclothes and crawling into the bed at your side, settling immediately back into the pillows behind him.

“How was the council this evening, my darling?” You asked, and Aegon froze momentarily at the endearment you graced him with.

Aegon couldn’t remember a time when you had called him anything but uncle, husband or his name. Though such names often fell from his lips, he had never once asked the same from you.

So, to hear them from you now…

He did his best to ignore the flutter in his chest. Settling back and turning to press his lips to your temple.

“It appears Aemond and Cole are content to undermine me at every turn.”

Aemond’s name hitting your ears made you stiffen and Aegon noticed but said nothing.

“Undermine you?” You set your book down, turning your attention to your husband instead.

Aegon sighed, his head falling back against the headboard. The turmoil on his face broke your heart. You knew he never wanted to be king, he had told you as much. But you could tell he was trying with everything he had.

I can if you let me try. I can if you let me try.

Your whole body turned, your hand resting atop his and playing with the dragon egg ring on his finger. Your face nestled against his neck, gently inhaling the scent of him. A scent you had come to enjoy. You would smell it on the pillow…no his pillow…when he would wake before you in the mornings.

Aegon let a smile tug at his lips at your closeness, at the gentleness of your touch. Even when his day felt like the worst of his life, you always seemed to be the balm to his worries.

“They have been meeting in secret, it seems, to plan this war without my knowledge.” 

Your hand tightened on his. Anger simmered in your stomach at the audacity. Was there no one but you who supported Aegon and believed he was capable of ruling without interference?

That was the first time you had been so absolute in your thoughts. That Aegon was a good king. That he could be a good king if he were allowed to be. 

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

You sat up, surprising Aegon it seemed as you straddled his thighs.

“Those fools underestimate you, Aegon.”

Aegon’s hands went instinctively to your waist. Your relationship was not without physical pleasure. If there was one thing Aegon knew he could do, it was please you in that regard. There was never, and would never if he could help it, be a shortage of intimacy between you both.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

 “None of them listen to me. Not my council, not Otto, not even my mother anymore.”

Your hands cupped his face, your fingers rubbing gently circles on his temples as he tugged your body closer. It had been a growing problem from the moment Aegon had called his first council. You had, in the beginning, assured him that those men would come around and see him as someone capable of great things.

And at the time, you had simply said words you knew would calm him, soothe his worries.

Now? You meant every single one. You truly believed Aegon could be a king to be remembered. He already had the favour of the smallfolk; he simply needed the trust of those within his walls.

“Then we make them see, we find a way to show them what kind of king you are.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Aegon was quick to return it, his arm snaking around your waist and pressing you tighter into his chest. His other hand tangling into your hair, weaving your silken brown locks between his fingers.

“We? How will my queen help me?”

Your heart raced. It was like something had switched inside you. With Aegon’s lips on your skin, his hands gripping and pressing you to his chest, and the need that simmered in your core, it was like you were tumbling further and further into something unknown.

“Remove those you cannot trust, punish the ones who defy you.”

Was it selfish on your part? Yes, Aemond had received little consequence for his actions, but you had never once asked Aegon for such things. That was his brother, and though you were his wife, you knew what it was like to be torn between two sides.

But now that Aemond, and Cole, had embarrassed Aegon so, you knew he would want to do something.

Aegon kissed you harder. The arm around your waist loosening as he bunched your nightgown up around your hips. Your words had ignited something within him. He realised he had been blind to his most steadfast supporter.

You, his niece, his wife, his queen. Even when you were torn between him and your mother, you had never wavered in your loyalty. Even when it pained you. You had stayed at his side.

The moan that fell from your lips the second his fingers pressed against your pearl was like music to his ears. His rhythm was slow but forceful. Your hips already rolling to meet his hand. 

“Even my brother? I know your feelings on Aemond, my beautiful queen,” Aegon whispered, his lips moving down your neck.

Your head tilted back as he kissed a heated trail down, settling on your breast as his free hand tugged the straps of your nightgown away. His question floated in your mind. He knew you well enough to know your anger towards Aemond would never dissipate.

You could only nod as Aegon’s lips wrapped around your nipple, rolling the bud between his lips as your pleasure overtook your ability to speak.

But Aegon knew you had a point. Aemond did as he did because he thought Aegon was a pushover. Someone he could belittle and embarrass again and again. Your words only reminded him that no one should be safe from a king’s ire.

“Aegon…” you sighed, and any other questions he had were long gone.

He tilted you back gently, urging your legs to part as your back hit the bed below.

“I should bring you to my council, my love, it seems you are the only one I can truly trust.”

Those words hung heavy as Aegon descended on your breasts again, one suckled between his lips as he kneaded the other in his hand. His hips nestled between your thighs, the only barrier being your smallclothes.

“You are my king, my husband, there is nothing that would turn me from you…”

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

You had said it. He was your king. Those were the words he had longed to hear. You had called him king before. When you would tell him he was a good king, when you remind him, he was the king.

But you had never called him your king.

The fire in him threatened to burn him from within. Knowing you backed him, knowing you were entirely loyal to him, it made him desperate to show you that he was just as loyal and bound to you.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

The words had fallen from your mouth before you could stop them. But you didn’t want to stop them. You believed them wholeheartedly. He was your king. Yours. And you would do anything you must to make sure he believed them too.

The sound of fabric tearing had you sat up on your elbows. Your smallclothes in tatters in Aegon’s hands, and a hungry look on his face.

“Say it again.”

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

His hands tugged your legs wider, before leaning back and tugging his own smallclothes from his body. His cock stood proud against his stomach, hot and slick as he kept you splayed out in front of him.

“My king…”

Aegon had never felt so desperate for you. He had desired you, every time he had bedded you, but this…it was like it would pain him to not have you.

His queen. His comfort. His wife.

His lips crashed against yours. He could already feel the slick heat of your cunt against him, you were as needy as he was. As filled with desire as he was. There was little gentleness as he lined himself up with your entrance, pressing inside with a groan that rumbled out of his chest. Aegon was never rough with you, unless you asked it of him. But his body was working separate from his mind now.

“Again.” 

He buried himself deep with one, swift thrust. Your back arching from the bed as he bottomed out. The stretch was enough to have you moaning before he’d even moved.

But when you didn’t answer, he slammed his hips back into you.

“Say it again.”

Your legs hooked around his waist, your nightgown hanging loose off your shoulders as your breasts bounced with ever harsh thrust.

“My king…yes…my king!”

Your hands gripped the sheets as he pounded into you, fuelled by a heady mix of lust and love. Aegon’s hand was quick to tug both of yours above your head. Holding them tight as his pace only quickened.

Your moans were pitching higher and higher as you raced closer and closer to your peak. Aegon groaned into your neck as he felt your walls begin to spasm and clench around him. He wouldn’t last long, he could feel it.

“Oh, my queen…fuck…come for me, gods, come for me..” Aegon panted into your neck, pleasure licking at his spine.

His hand was tight around your wrists, your back arching from the bed as you peaked. Muscles spasming around his cock as his name fell like a prayer, over and over from your lips.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

It wasn’t long before Aegon followed, painting your inner walls white with his seed as he peppered kisses of your heated skin. As his pleasure simmered down, something else began to seize at his heart.

“I love you…I love you so much...” 

Your mind remained foggy with pleasure, but you heard those words. Aegon’s hand released your wrists, and you immediately tugged his face to yours, pressing a hungry kiss to his lips. It was a mess of teeth and tongues, but Aegon could feel every ounce of emotion in that one kiss.

And when you pulled away, breathless, you finally uttered the words that had his heart soaring.

“I love you too, my king.”

Aegon taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe

@kaelatargaryen @sihtricsafin @thought--bubble

@towriteloveontheirarms @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel

@arcielee @tumblin-theworldaway

(If you want to be added or removed, let me know!)

[shojizbae]

Yeehaw!

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position

Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.

"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.

"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."

"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers

"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."

"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.

"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.

But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.

I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.

"Hey, Spencer, check this out."

"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.

"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"

"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"

"I'm just curious."

"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.

"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."

"You asked." He sasses

Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.

I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.

"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips

"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow

"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks

"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"

"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team

Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.

As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.

"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.

"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify

"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.

"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.

"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands

"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."

"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."

"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.

"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.

Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.

"You ready, little girl?" He asks

"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.

one Mississippi

The bull speeds up

'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure

two Mississippi

It starts going sideways

three Mississippi

I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip

four Mississippi

I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer

five Mississippi, six Mississippi

My heart starts to thump against my ribs

Seven Mississippi, I win.

The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.

'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.

"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question

"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"

"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck

"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd

"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt

"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.

"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek

"C'mon, you paid for it."

"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."

"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest

"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip

"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt

"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."

"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table

"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.

"Uh sure," He swallows

"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.

"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.

"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."

"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease

"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips

"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back

"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.

"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.

"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face

"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.

"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me

"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."

"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.

"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.

"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears

"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"

"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.

"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?"

"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"

"No,"

"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"

"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm

"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."

"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."

"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.

"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."

"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat

"I've got more," I whisper playfully

"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.

"There's some text under my boobs."

"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"

"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.

"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.

"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."

"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off

"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie

"No (Y/n),"

"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away

"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart

"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.

"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."

"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.

"C6H12O6?"

"Yeah, you remember what that means?"

"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"

"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.

"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.

He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.

"Spencer!' I moan in shock

"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.

With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.

"Spenc- Uh"

"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.

"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.

"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over

"There's other people around, Spencer."

"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.

"Sit still." He commands

Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.

"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.

"How are you doing? Was that any good?"

"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.

"Spencer?" I ask slowly

"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth

"I'm gonna fuck you now,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.

"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease

"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.

"Yeah, and now you will be."

I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.

"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.

"How are you doing, Reid?"

"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.

"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.

"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.

"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.

"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers

"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.

"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."

"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.

"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.

"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism: "If you die tomorrow, would you have any regrets?"

G/N. Jake, Goo, Gun, DG, Ryuhei, Sammy. Reminder that Gun is canonically a gamer lmao.

Jake looks up at you in surprise, the morbid question catching him off guard.

"Why?" he asks, tilting his head.

"It was just a question I read."

"Hmm," Jake rubs at his chin and gazes off somewhere in the distance, no doubt thinking about all that has happened in his life. "Yeah. Loads."

Oh. You weren't expecting that-

"A lot of things I've made my peace with," Jake shrugs and you know he means Sinu and Samuel and Big Deal.

The mess with Workers, the falling out with Samuel and end of the Golden Era, the arrest of so many of his crew. He knows his mom is disappointed that he is so much like his father, his time in juvie, and Jake thinks if he tried better in school instead of fighting then maybe things would have worked out a lot differently.

"But-" he tugs on your hand, pulling you off-balance and falling straight into his lap.

"I'd regret not spending more time with you. All the time trying to be a good boss rather than a good boyfriend."

You open your mouth to argue that he is a good boyfriend but he continues on-

"I'd regret leaving you on your own. Even though I know you'd find someone easily," And Jake manages a small wistful smile, "I'd regret not being there for you."

.

.

"Me?" Goo blinks, looking up from his manga.

"Yes, you. The only other person here."

"Just checking, Cupcake." Goo thinks briefly for a moment before making up his mind.

"I'll regret not seeing how this manga ends," then he narrows his eyes, stabbing angrily at the page, "And not going to Japan to hunt down this asshole for killing my fave off-screen."

"Goo!" Maybe this is on you for expecting a serious answer.

He gets up and makes his way to you, peppers kisses all over your face as you roll your eyes. "You're not planning on killing me are you, Sweetheart?"

"Yes. Tonight. There's a knife under my pillow."

"Make sure you don't wake me, do it quick," he grins mischievously then-

An unpleasant thought pops up and he pulls a face. "Once I'm dead, you better not fall in love with anyone else. My ghost will haunt you, y'know."

"Fine, I'll just be sad and alone and mourning over you forever."

"Perfect!"

But what would Goo actually regret?

What's the saying? You can't take it with you.

Goo has such fun plans once he retires from all this crew shit. Neither of you have to work another day again, you can just spend the rest of your lives terrorising the general public instead. Travelling the world, swimming in a pool of money together, sleeping on a bed of cash. All that fun stuff.

Goo doesn't regret the time amassing his fortune, his little safety net for the future. But if he was to die tomorrow, he would regret not having that future with you.

.

.

Gun pauses the video game at your question, then turns to you with a brow arched, "Why do you think I'm going to die?"

"It's hypothetical. Like in a fight or something."

An arrogant smile spreads, "And who's strong enough to kill me?"

You click your tongue in annoyance at his response although you hate to admit that damn, you find his attitude sexy as hell. There's just something about him being able to back up his confidence with his skills and talent.

"Just answer my question!"

"No I would not have any regrets," he says, already turning back and resuming his game.

Of course Gun doesn't. As if someone like him would have any regrets.

Eyes still on the screen and fingers clicking on the controller, Gun adds quietly. "But you will be taken care of."

Oh.

If Gun were to die tomorrow, he would regret not being able to take care of you. Being by your side. In his line of work, it is always a possibility no matter how strong he is. The least he could do, and has done, is make sure that at least no harm or hardships befalls you after he is gone.

Money, protection, freedom. If he can't have a future, then he will assure yours.

.

.

DG falters mid-stride, giving it the briefest of thoughts before coming to a conclusion.

"Nope," he says with a cocky smirk.

He has very little to regret. His life as DG is what most people dream of. Fame and fortune, power and influence.

As James Lee he has proven he's the strongest, he's the peak and untouchable.

There's very little left for him to accomplish. Why would he have any regrets?

But, he supposes, as he is later handled by the assistants and the stylists, then plasters on a fake smile for TV appearances before being ushered to some event full of schmoozers and fakers and having to make small talk as DG, the idol and CEO-

Is that maybe if he could do it again, he would choose something with more privacy. More freedom. That he could do what he wants, whenever he wants.

And most importantly-

That he can walk hand in hand with you down the street without rabid fans screaming and the paparazzi photos making headlines.

Without you being on the receiving end of death threats and unhinged letters, and his agent and company telling him that he needs to apologize for his relationship. Backtrack it. Single idols sells better, appeals to the public more.

If DG died tomorrow, he thinks that actually he would regret this. He regrets keeping you in the shadows.

.

.

Ryuhei doesn't hesitate and tells you he wishes you were his first. For everything.

Even hand holding. Even hugs.

You pull a face at that.

"That's... Sweet." You say, lying through your teeth as Ryuhei looks at you with concerned puppy eyes.

"You wish the same, right?"

"Sure," you agree because where's the harm in appeasing this goofball.

In truth, and Ryuhei hates thinking about it, is that he does desperately wish that he met you first. Before Mitsuki, before anyone else.

Nevermind that it's a completely futile, fanciful dream because everything that has happened has led him to you.

But he thinks it would have worked out better. He could have been a better person, a better boyfriend. If he met you before he had a chance to develop his sex pest tendencies and obsessive behaviour that you had to stamp out.

It's pointless though. Not even worth dwelling on. What has happened has happened and he could only try to be better now.

Ryuhei considers the question again with a sigh. If he dies tomorrow, what would he regret?

Oh yeah! He would absolutely regret this!

"I'd regret that we can't bang anymore!"

"Ryuhei!"

.

.

Samuel immediately feels defensive at your question.

He thinks about what he hasn't yet achieved. All his dreams of becoming King, being at the top, and yet he's no closer.

"Why?" he asks, eyes starting to narrow behind his glasses.

You hold up both palms, in a gesture to indicate you didn't mean anything by it and your face tells him to just chill.

"I dunno. I found it and thought it was an interesting question."

"It's not." Samuel says, effectively ending the conversation and eyes dipping back down to his phone.

But it doesn't just end.

Samuel spirals and doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day, his shortcomings haunting him instead.

He drinks and he smokes and he spends even more time at work, trying to dull the ache of his inferiority.

The mornings and nights pass by in a blur, a string of toxic behaviours and self sabotage, until eventually - he comes to.

His failures and faults pushed to the back of his mind, rather than a constant reminder.

Then like a fog clearing, he finds clarity again. He sees your face, the worry, the trepidation... The guilt for asking an innocent question.

And Samuel knows that his biggest regret of all if he dies tomorrow is that you deserved better and he hasn't been able to give that to you.

[rifari2037]

They talked about cultural differences?? Really??? I laughed so hard 🤣

Do they realised that air and water are different too?? That their cultural are completely opposite???

Water tribe people killed animals for food, furniture, clothes, etc. That's their culture! Air nomads don't killed animals, even a fly, for any reasons, they're vegetarian. That's their culture!!

There's nothing wrong with both cultures, but if we think about it with sense, can two people with extreme cultural differences marry and accept each other's cultures easily?

No, it won't be easy. Katara and Aang got married without any problems about cultural differences because Bryke were the writers!

Do they know that Aang/Kataang stand was aware about it and wrote this???

Do they even realise that in canon Aang doesn't really like Water Tribe culture?? Yes, that's CANON!!

Katara : Bato, it looks like home! [Bato, Katara, Sokka, and Aang file inside.] Sokka : Everything's here, even the pelts! Aang : [Sarcastically.] Yeah, nothing's cozier than dead animal skins.

Katara : [Surprised and delighted.] No way! Stewed sea prunes! Bato : Help yourself! Sokka : Dad could eat a whole barrel of these things! Aang takes a bowl of stewed sea prunes and sniffs it, but looks away in disgust and sets it to the side.

Aang : Hey everyone! Sorry I was gone so long. Katara : [Turns to face him.] Hey, Aang, I didn't notice you left. Aang : Yup, but now I'm back. [Sitting down.] Sure could go for some delicious sea prunes! Aang quickly takes some bites of sea prunes, but chokes them back up, yet he pretends to enjoy them. Katara, Bato, and Sokka look at him strangely.

Hama : I wanted to surprise you! I bought all this food today so I could fix you a big Water Tribe dinner. Of course, I can't get all the ingredients I need here, but ocean kumquats are a lot like sea prunes if you stew them long enough. Aang : [Sticking his tongue out in disgust.] Great!

Aang : [Whispering to Toph.] I'd steer clear of the sea prunes. Toph : I thought they were ocean kumquats. Aang : Close enough.

Oh, btw, An ocean kumquat is a small, round fruit often consumed in the Fire Nation. That's close enough with sea prunes, water tribe cuisine.

When Aang doesn't like water tribe cuisine, I can imagine Zuko and Katara having dinner, sharing water tribe and fire nation dishes and they enjoying it because it taste similar. 😂

Fire and water are the opposite elements, that's why they are compliment each other.

Yin and Yang shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section.

Remember what Iroh said about the elements? Let's see if fire and water don't mix together, especially for Zuko and Katara.

"Fire is the element of power..."

"...The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want."

"Water is the element of change..."

"...The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things..."

"...They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything."

Young Zuko : [Zuko is shown standing up.] You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?

Zuko and Katara would bicker and not get along well, they said?? Really??

Every time Katara is mad, Zuko just silent and listen to her. Even when they're still enemies!!

Oh, btw, Katara not 'always' threatened Zuko to kill him if he hurt Aang. It happened once. She is still mad at him not because of Aang, but because he betrayed her.

That's personal to her, she is mad not because he hurt someone else but he hurt her. I mean, if she really mad at him because of Aang, why is she connected her anger at Zuko to her mom, not Aang (again)?

And after this moment, after Katara by her own choice, forgives Zuko, do Zuko and Katara always bickering and not get along at all??? No, they're not!!

Zuko gives Katara advice, Katara listens. Katara gives Zuko advice, Zuko listens.

They reassure each other at a very important moment.

Lastly, I don't understand how Zuko and Katara, who they said would never get along, always save each other lives, even Zuko sacrifice his life to her?

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Publisher Assassins

Poe: Look, this has gone on too long Poe: we've GOT to distance ourselves from Joanne Neil Gaiman: she's become a liability Gaiman: soon she'll be killed by the publisher assassins Poe: right, the Poe: hold on, the what Gaiman: the publisher assassins Poe:

Gaiman: dead authors sell better, you see Gaiman: so someone could kill an author just to goose sales Gaiman: that's why we all have to be very protective of copyright King: ...is this about the internet archive Gaiman: I SIGNED THE LETTER OKAY

Gaiman: imagine Gaiman: it's 2001 Gaiman: you're sent to kill a promising young author Gaiman: but you accidentally kill her terrier instead Barker: That was a film Gaiman: ah but films are the mindscape of potentiality Koontz: [crying] I don't like this story

Gaiman: ah dean, fear not my young friend Gaiman: tis a mere thought experiment Gaiman: publisher assassins are not real, they can't hurt you Gaiman: [stroking chin] though contracted hit men are REMARKABLY cheap Gaiman: Only five figures? Now THAT'S what I call making a killing

King: neil you're just being kooky, no one's gonna kill authors for the copyright King: i mean King: who could even pull off a thing like   Barker: mary could do it King: King: no no mary's too flamboyant King: you need a professional for this Jack Ketchum: [long cigarette drag]

Jack Ketchum: i could do it King: Ketchum: i could do it easy Ketchum: no one would ever find the bodies King: Barker: would you make it look like an accident Ketchum: what am i, an amateur? of course i'd make it look like a fucking accident Ketchum: what a question

Ketchum: damn shame about that scottish castle King: jack Ketchum: you know what they say Ketchum: you gotta keep diane duane outta the woodwork or you're gonna get some major structural damage Ketchum: the kind that can crush a person alive   King: jack what did you do

Ketchum: i didn't do anything, steve King: Ketchum: and there are no witnesses to say otherwise King: Gaiman: haha my goodness this gedank experiment sure is a testament to the limitless reaches of the human imagination isn't it haha

[thedevilssinner]

I wanna share something because I don't want to suffer alone with my thoughts 😅

It's one of the scenarios where Tav knew Astarion before he was turned, but I've never read anything where it played out like this.

I apologize if something is wrong, English is not my native language.

Imagine that Tav is an elf and Astarion's lover before he was turned.

They're devastated when they finds out that Astarion has been killed. Mourning his death for a very long time and even moving away from Baldur's gate because everything reminds them too much of Astarion.

They know that all their happiness and love are gone. No one can fill the void that Astarion's death has brought them.

And now, two hundred years later, they stand on the beach, the sun beating down on their head, the burning Nautiloid at their back and before them... Astarion?

Only it's all wrong, his eyes are red and he's pale... paler than he's ever been.

Anger rises up in Tav. How dare some shapeshifter even take on Astarion's form after their beloved has been dead for 200 years?

And do a bad job at it!

Before the pale creature could even call for help again, Tav lunged at him with an angry cry, surprising the imitation and truckling it to the ground, dagger pressed to it's throat while they straddled his body. "How dare you?! How dare you to take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!" They command, surprising even themselves with their actions. But they couldn't stop... not when someone is using Astarion's face for gods knows what.

"Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remove the dagger from my neck." The shapeshifter replies, his voice smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion's that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.

"Shut up, shapeshifter!" Tav shouts at him, gaze anchored on that so familiar yet different face. "Where did you even get his face?! His voice?!" They ask angrily, the hand holding the dagger starting to shake. "You have no rights to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it badly!" They continue, still angry but deep seated sadness linger behind.

The shapeshifter's eyes widen, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, Tav noticing the fangs there and even worse idea that him being a shapeshifter, starts to creep into their mind.

"Tav?" Fake Astarion finally speaks, saying their name as if he were saying it for the first time in a long time, tasting it on his lips. The previous flirting gone. Instead he looked confused and as if just now he remembered something that was hidden in his mind. "You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful." His red eyes glide along Tav's face, his voice nothing than a whisper. He's clearly lost in his head and Tav swallows thickly, realisation slowly grasping their mind but they fight against it.

"No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong." Tav says, their body starting to shake all over, threatening to cut him by mistake with the dagger still against his neck.

But now it's easy for 'the shapeshifter' to take Tav's wrist and move their hand away from his neck, easily wrenching the dagger from their fingers and tossing it aside. His lips stretch into a sad smile.

"That's what vampirism do to you, my love." Astarion says ever so softly, the deepest pain and sadness etched in his voice and Tav knows, feels it in their soul, that he is telling the truth.

So that's how Tav meets Astarion again, this encounter more painful and bittersweet than anything else.

They stay on the beach for a little while, Tav crying their heart out and Astarion trying to hold back his own tears. Both of them not expecting something like this to happen.

(Sorry if Astarion seems ooc.)

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[callofdudes]

ive been in the mood for some angst, some good ol' hurt/comfort or even hurt/no comfort. how would the 141 react to finding out their s/o has been kidnapped? their reactions to finding the ransom note, and how they would get their beloved back?

I wrote headcanons for this.... And then I wasn't happy with it, but I liked the headcanons enough to not want to get rid of them so I apologize if it's a mess. It's been a really emotional and draining couple days for me. But I wanted to get something out even if this was all I could produce.

Price 🥃

Don't mess with him. You mess with him or his family and he'll rock your shit. He is brutal and I know we all like to pretend he's the loving father figure he is 100% of the time but truth is this man is ruthless.

It doesn't matter who he has to kill to get you back he will. Whatever or whoever stands in his way between him and you is gonna get got.

This is pretty much true for all of the guys. But Price is that, I've been married for like 11 years don't fuck with my family.

When Price finds the note he's rightfully furious, he's scared, but overall he's furious that they would dare to put their hands on you. To take you away and then threaten him with your demise, of worse.

Giving Price exactly 48 hours to hand over the money whatever organization wanted it wasn't a smart option. In fact, none of this was smart. The note mentioned what would become of you if the instructions were not followed.

He tucked the note in his pocket and without hesitation he dialed the phone number that was on the paper. He remained calm, as he did with any enemy.

"If you think of hurting them, I will not hesitate to kill you." Said in a low voice. The kind that remains calm but you can tell he means every word coming out of his mouth.

"We won't have to hurt them if you give us what we want." The soldier on the other line sneered.

John was absolutely terrified inside. He knew how to handle this situation with civilians and his own teammates but this was you. You. What If they killed him or he didn't get there in time??

He didn't hesitate before doing a deep dive on the organization as far as the eye could see. The idiot stupid enough to leave his phone number got their 20 second call tracked and he didn't need to have the location before he was up and out.

He'd either bring a team or go alone but knowing Price he'd probably go alone. Brutal killing. Brutal killing.

I mean all the normal military stuff but with some extra aggression. Affectionate dad mode has turned into 'Slaughter everything that ever moved with extra violence husband mode.'

He searches every room and he doesn't stop until he knows their dead. He'd leave a few lost soldiers in favor of getting to you. While he would kill them all his main priority is finding you and making sure you're ok.

Lots of kisses and reassurance when he finds you alive and ok. If you're unharmed he probably untie you from your holding place and pull you in tightly, kissing you and hugging you, telling you he's here. He's here and it's ok. Nothing, nothing will ever hurt you. Not on his watch.

"I've got you love, I've got you." He kisses your forehead, then your lips. "I'm here darling, you're ok, you're safe."

You fall into his arms, crying and grabbing onto him tightly. "I thought they were going to killed me- John!"

Price holds you tightly, kissing the side of your head. "Oh love I'd never let that happen, I would never let that happen you hear me??" You still cry, grabbing onto him even as he picks you up, holding you in his arms as if he would protect you from the whole world. And he would. Nothing would ever hurt you.

If you are injured then all those dead men out there?? Oh yeah, he's going to shoot all of them again just for good measure. If you are hurt any leniency he had for soldiers still hiding around the place is gone. Will blow up the facility. To pieces. Fucking bye!

You whimpered, looking up at him, blood trickling down your forehead into your eye and matted in your hair. "John...." Price cut your bindings and pulled you into his arms.

"They hurt you... Which one of them hurt you!?"

You grabbed onto him, shaking and crying as he wraps his arms around you. "I'll kill them all. I'll kill them for what they've done. They won't lay another hand on you." He growls, holding you close.

He gets you home and doesn't leave your side, but you don't mind the cuddles and how he stays up later than usual that night keeping his eye on you that he falls asleep next to you on the couch.

If you come back injured he tends to your wounds, lays you down in bed and stays awake with your head on his chest, stroking his hand through your hair and over your scalp, feeling your warmth and comfort in knowing you came out ok.

"How are you feeling?"

"Still shaken up." You whisper, nuzzled up against his chest, laying under his chin. "You?"

"Just glad you're alive. So so glad you're alive." He hugs you tightly, kissing your head. "I love you." You snuggle up, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I know you'll always be to my rescue John."

"Always, I won't ever let someone hurt you like that. Never."

Gaz 🧢

Gaz can do ok with confrontation. Even though he doesn't like it, he usually lets his gun do all his talking for him. The barrel to their face and they usually shut up pretty quickly.

Gaz definitely leaves the intimidation up to his weapons. But when you're kidnapped and taken hostage? Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You are feeling the full force fury of one Kyle Garrick and you don't want that.

The fuck around and find out type.

A little better at regulating his emotions when he finds the note. When he reads it his face is full of rage if you look into his eyes. The scowl forming is palpable to his rage. Crumpling the note up in his hand before dropping it to the ground.

He doesn't hesitate to grab his gun, his hat and his car keys. Someone is gonna get their ass beat.

It's on the way that he gets a call from the people who have kidnapped you, giving him a verbal warning of the damage you would suffer in the next 48 hours if the deal wasn't closed.

"You have 48 hours to get me that money do you understand?? Or your love is bye-bye."

Kyle remains silent on the phone, glaring down the drive, his foot pressing into the pedal. "Every finger you put on their skin, I'll cut it off." He hisses before ending the call.

Their first mistake was giving Kyle their location to meet. Gaz is wicked with technology when he gets his hands on it.

When they tell him where to meet and drop the money he does a quick search, surveying the area and finding all possible exits, entry roads. Buildings, abandoned or not. All while still in the car.

When he finds an old abandoned warehouse with some built in security perimeters he figures it's his good first bet.

Again, his gun does the talking. And his gun has one nasty bite. By the time he's tromped through the enemy troops he's dripping I'm blood because once he shoots he just keeps trucking. Dropping the entrance and eventually when he finds some men in the room with you it's all fists.

He wants a good fight and they don't even get a chance before Kyle has them on the ground giving them the beating of their life.

If he finds you uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you know you're safe, then untie you and hold you in his arms, kissing you until he runs out of air.

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Come here, come on, let's get you home." Kissing your temple as he picks you up and carries you out. "Shh, I'm here now, I'm so glad you're ok." He kneels in front of you, untying you and pulling you into his arms.

"Kyle-" you look back at the men, bloodied and dead. You cling onto Kyle with tears in your eyes, shaking in his arms. "They were going to kill me...."

"I'd never let that happen. And their damn fools if they think they would get away with this." He looks into your eyes. "I'm right here ok? You're ok."

If you are injured he'll gently pick you up in his arms and carry you back, treating your wounds and then holding you close to him.

"Shh," He pushes a strand of your hair back, settling you in his lap, his bloodied hand running through the blood that runs down your nose and your lip. "They can't lay another hand on you." He shakes a little, tear rolling down his cheek as he kisses your forehead, relieved to feel your warm body in his hands. "I love you so much. I love you so much." He whispers.

Arms wrapped under your, cupping your back to keep you close to him throughout the entire night. Reassured whatever state you're in, you're home. You're back home with him and nothing will ever hurt you.

You comb your fingers over his scalp, glad to be wrapped in his strong embrace. "I love you Kyle." You whisper. Kyle nods, pulling you as close as he possibly can. "I love you even more."

Ghost 💀

You'd think this would be easy, but it's actually not. Simon's reaction would be similar but could go one of two ways. He'd either be blood thirsty, angry. Carnage, teeth ripping, flesh tearing, head snapping psycho angry. Or he'd be worrying about your safety, pacing back and forth looking for any way, any how he could get you back. Both emotions are present in both cases but one would be more dominant.

So let's say he's both. He finds the note and he's furious. He's absolutely blood red visioned. But he knows if he does anything rash it could cost you your life.

Again, he'd either be the type to go on his own or call his team. But he'd only call his team if he seriously, seriously thought maybe he wouldn't be able to save you and not himself.

The note was easy, finding finger prints on the thing was like second nature to scan. Identifying those fingerprints with help from a friend, also pretty easy.

With his 48 hour slot to either complete the deal or sacrifice your life he set off to find you. Armed to the teeth. Quite literally.

And once he got to the base you know what happens. Ghost do what Ghost does. Carnage. Blood and limbs torn. His gun being his main weapons but like Gaz was not afraid to get his hands soaked in that moment.

He wanted to go rage on the whole base but his objective was you. Snuck in, took out anyone in his way and found you.

If you're uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you're awake. He'll immediately cut your bindings and pull you up into his arms. He can embrace you and kiss you when you're safe. But rest assured now that you're in his arms he won't let you go. He gets the car far enough away and pulls you into his arms, kissing you until he can't breathe.

He pulls you from the corner of the room into his arms. "I'm here, I'm here love don't worry." He holds you close, hiding you in his embrace as he brings you back out of the base and to the car. When he gets to safely away you start to cry.

"Simon," you cling onto him, shaking and relieved.

"I got you baby, I've got you." He whispers, pulling up his mask and kissing you. Kissing you until he was sure you wouldn't disappear into thin air. "I'm right here, I'm going to get you home." He runs his thumb over your cheek, relieved your alive.

He's lost family members like this before, he'd never want to lose you to that. And he almost did. He almost lost the most important person in his life.

If you are injured fuck stealth. All those men?? He'll slaughter and bludgeon all of them so badly their families won't know who their burying. That's that happens when you mess with people he loves. He gave them a chance to possibly get out alive if they hadn't hurt you, but they had. And that was the wrong decision.

"Where are you injured??" Simon cups your cheek, looking down to see the blood dripping onto your shirt and soaking your collar. He was furious, but he pulled you into his arms and held you close. "It's ok, they won't lay one more fucking hand on you. I promise. I'll kill them for touching you, I promise I will baby not one will be left."

He brought you to the car and kissed your nose. Once he'd gotten you secure and ok, he cocked his gun and finished off the last of that base.

When he returned again you cried into his chest while he held you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry love. it's over. It's over, I won't ever, ever let anyone hurt you like that again.

He brought you home and held you in his arms, refusing to let you go. He would never let anything hurt you. He promised. He would never let the evil of the world hurt people he loved again.

His grip was tight, running his hand up and down your back. He looked into your eyes, seeing your face for a long while before leaning his forehead against yours, tears finally swelling up in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're ok." He whispers, pulling you close again. He'd never let go.

Soap 🧼

John cries. When he comes home from his long leave, expecting a warm hug and a good meal. But when he comes back, the house quiet and empty. The lights off, the love of his life not there to greet him.

And when he finds the note that you've been dragged out of your home and taken hostage for money and information. He was scared, seeing the email at the bottom of the note.

You were one of the most important people in his life and he couldn't fathom the thought of losing you.

He's in tears and shaking when he sends a message to the email, waiting for an agonizing hour before he got an email back. A taunting message acting for the money with a photo of you, a knife to your throat. "Give us the money or your little lover gets it."

Now he was angry. He was sad and scared for you but he was also angry. He contacted Ghost and once he got information on the email and pinned where it was sent from he didn't hesitate.

He was strapped to boot with anything he would need. Hell he threw his favorite bazooka in the back and was off by sunset.

When he gets there he easily takes out the sentinels and gets inside, finding you tied up. He takes out the soldiers guarding you and rushes to your side, holding you gently. "Look at me love, I'm going to bring you home." He kisses your temple and hauls you into his arms.

"We're going home." He assures you again as he brings you outside into the cool air. He walks you out past the perimeter and flicks the button in his hand, the base going up into a flurry of smoke and fire. "No one will lay a hand on you, I promise."

If you aren't injured he's going to set up a bomb and blow the place sky high, sending flames into the night from the inside out.

If you are injured he's still blowing it up.

"Love, love can you hear me??" He tilts your head up, seeing the black eye and your bloody nose. He frowns, immediately undoing your bonds and cradling you in his arms. "I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. Not one damn second more."

"Johnny.... It hurts." You whispered, clinging onto him for his warmth, his protection.

"I promise you love no one will ever lay a hand on you like this again. I swear to it never again."

He picks you up and brings you out of the base, once he's in the safety perimeter he blows the place sky high. Good riddance.

He won't let anyone hurt you. He loves you, and he vows to protect you with all the resources he has. He would never let you get hurt. He holds you close, maybe even gives you a nice welcome home to get your mind off what you went through.

"Are you really ok love??" He asked, watching you sip the hot chocolate he'd made you. You nod, cuddling closer to him in your PJs. "I know you'll always be there for me."

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, lips feathering a kiss to your temple. "Always love, I will always do what I can to keep you safe."

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[soy-soi-si]

Imagine y/n having to join the team as a stand in for another person that was supposed to be there. And everything goes wrong.

Tw. angst, brief torture, injuries, death, past abuse, helplessness, reader almost dying. Foul language! Really crappy writing and not proof read prolly missing a few Tw's as well.

Y/n doesn't like the group at first. They seem patronizing, constantly talking about the person who was going to join. Constantly asking if you could actually do what he was supposed to. Hell even when she was completing the mission they kept checking on her more than each other even if two of them were under fire. She got so annoyed with Price after the genuine thirtieth time he told her the step by step of what she already did.

“If you keep fucking patronizing me I'll bust your balls Mr. Price is right. Now fuck off I'm already done.” She sighs at the deactivated bomb having completely gutted it and made sure it's not going to explode. Not to mention rescuing the hostages and securing the building and her section.

The laughter over comes echo's in her ear as she turns to the man it was strapped to as he cries out his thanks. She already checked him for weapons along with the other hostages; she untied them all and now has them in a corner taking cover just in case. Mostly women and a couple kids like three men including the one she saved.

She also deactivated the other bombs in her building and surrounding. “Christ sake your feisty lass!” she scoffs in response to soap, no longer looking at the civilians “You cunts have done nothing but baby and patronize me the entire time I've been around you. Sit and spin you big bitch.” The others chuckle at the end of the sentence.

“What am I sitting on again lassie?” she smirks “My fuckin 31cm dildo I'm gonna fuck you with later.” The cackles echo from gaz and roach. She hums before turning back to the civilians. “She's right about you patronizing her.” Ghost's voice echoes from the coms as a gunshot does as well. “my sector is clear.” She blinks as she hears movement outside.

“I think some strays came to my sector. I'm hearing stuff outside.” She raises her gun slowly moving to a window. She catches a peak of a huge group of the enemy surrounding her building. “I'm surrounded, there's easily a hundred if not over. Shit!” she notices one of them aiming up at the windows and she drops down. “these guy were not fucking anywhere near here until now…” she pauses as she hears one of the radios from the enemy in the hall and she crawls over to the door and she spots it sitting out front by the dead body and she grabs it closing the door again.

She listens to them moving to defend the hostages. “shit, they're telling everyone to come to my building!” She puts the other Radio against her mic. “Find the hostages, and the woman…” that's all she can make out before the window shatters along with an explosion. “take her alive and kill everyone else.” her ears are ringing as she sees someone coming out of the smoker and she shoots at them.

Searing agony sweeps through her after a second. She couldn't even tell she screamed as someone tackled her. “Get the fuck off of me!” Shooting them straight in the face then she shoots once at any movement she can make out the gun quickly clicking in response so she drops it pulling her handgun.

Then it's knocked from her hand as soldiers shoot at her from the doorway and it doesn't take long for her to realize she's on the floor surrounded by enemies. Each hostage she just saved gathered in front of her an executive guilt filling her body as each of them are made to look at her. She can't lift her hands or legs anymore in pure agony as the adrenaline is gone and so is each person she just met.

The seemingly leader steps in front of her holding a knife flipping it in his hand smiling as he crouches down to her eye level. She saw his picture and couldn't help but recognize him. “Hello there doll, you mind telling me where the pretty boy who was supposed to be on this mission is?” she glares at him. As he taps it against her neck, lightly cutting her skin each time. “So you've got Intel from our base. Sorry but he's fuckin dead. Died off base via a psycho girlfriend who thought he was cheating on him.” he takes a second before smiling. “Amazing news, pity I didn't get the honor though.” he cuts her wire. “But I'll make up for that with you pretty girl.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

She never wanted to die, at least not like this, not after lying her ass off about everything they wanted to know as they tortured her. She wanted to gloat in their face after what she said gets them caught and killed. But she could be proud at least at the wide eye angel personality and face she's pulling the cries and blubbering all fake.

“Puhluse I've told you everything!” She sniffles crying in agony, her eyes wide as she's pushed into a freezer, one you would have in a garage for wild game or fish except it's more like a transport cooler in size. The lid slammed shut over her and it's pushed into a hole of sorts crashing into the side then onto the small box beneath her.

“No, no no!” She tries pushing the lid up but it's heavier and heavier as dirt covers it. “FUCKIN BASTARD!” She kicks the lid, not even budging. She lays as she notices how cold it is here, probably freshly turned off.

She takes a few deep breaths as she knows she'll die in here sooner or later. She searches for her phone in her bra quickly finding it. Looking at the battery it's almost dead. “Shit” 10% she quickly shoots a text to her brothers group chat. A simple I love you. Before she calls the number one of the idiots gave her before they actually went on field. She desperately listens to the ringing before it's picked up. “Are you the Sargent!” She can hear the vehicle running. “Yes it's fuckin me! I lied to them about the information. They're headed for West Point and go get them! I want them to die for this!” She tears up knowing damn well she's setting herself up to die sending them away from her she bites her lip sniffling at the bright screen in agony.

“I’m sorry I fucked up big time. Just tell my brothers I'm sorry and that I love them.” “Y/n where are you.” Price's voice now echoes from the phone. “Dunno, but I'll be, I'll be.” she chokes back a sob at the words memories coming back as she looks at the lid above her. “I’ll be fine, just go get 'em for me. West point I sent them towards the dummy container and warehouse they're looking for weaponry.” her hands are shaking as the cold gets to her.

“Y/n breathe for me what are your surroundings like right now.” Gaz practically chokes out his question. “They buried me. You won't find me in time even if you look. Just go get them! Stop worrying about me and go get them! I didn't just go through torture for you to fucking fail on me!” She is starting to get sleepy as she switches her phone to the most battery saving settings she can. Sniffling, she looks at the phone. “Please tell him I love him and that I'm sorry. He's the, he's the one that was supposed to be on the mission he's my little brother,” laughing once she sighs, “Thank you for everything even if it was annoying for you to patronize me.” She smiles at the screen as Ghost goes to speak “we’re not going to-” it dies in the middle of his sentence, leaving her alone in the pitch black. She begins sobbing uncontrollably holding her phone in front of her wishing it was still on.

“N-no, ple-euase, I don-n't wa-auhnnt to digh-ie,” she can't breathe with how much she's choked up. “N, Noaut liku- ke, th-This-ss,” she's just getting more distraught by the second as all the composure she's been keeping until now is gone. She just sits there remembering her life, her recent life, then her childhood remembering how her dad would lock her in their freezer when he got angry.

“Da-Daddy please I don't want to die like this.” she can practically hear him scream from the other side as white spots appear in her vision. “Shut the fuck up you little whore!”

She reaches up barely able to feel her body as she knocks on the freezer like how she used to since it was against her and her siblings room. She can't even speak as she can't move anymore and she turns looking at her phone again in her limp hand.

I'm so sorry, I said I'd be fine on my own.

She didn't even realize she passed out not until her eyes opened again as sudden warmth hit her, let alone how it grabbed her neck. “She's alive!” Roaches' voice screams from above her as she's ripped from the freezing cold and put on the burning hot dirt of the outback. Someone pushed her onto her back doing chest compression then grabbing her nose before blowing into her mouth her head tilted back. Once then twice. Then three times as suddenly she gains control of her breathing, her head no longer as fuzzy as she chokes breathing looking around dazed.

She's rolled onto her side. “She's lost a huge amount of blood, the freezer floors full of it!” She hears roach climbing out as she lays her head on the dirt, unable to move besides shaking, noticing the early signs of hypothermia in her hands as they're almost blue.

“I got her phone to come on!” Roach and the second person here get in the back of the buggy and she notices finally it's a blonde man with a balaclava pulled down showing his scarred face then she sees the familiar mask on the top of his head and the tactical gear and she hears soap cursing in the front. “Patch her up already you fuckin bastards!” she looks at Ghost, feeling her tear stained face clearly along with her snot caked onto her. Seeing some on him from mouth to mouth.

He leans over her trying to wrap her head but she reaches up using what's left of her sleeve to wipe off her snot and tears off of him. He looks at her surprised but more so worried. “Aren’t you handsome, sorry about the snot.” her voice is barely there as her arm falls as she passes out again.

She didn't know scared older military men were her type.

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think deeply about something

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

All rights reserved to their original publishers.

Now playing: Long Way From Home by The Lumineers

Chapter One: Forks, Washington

     Moving from Jacksonville, Florida, to the rainiest place in the continental U.S. wasn't an easy adjustment.

     Seeing your sister act like the walking dead was even more trying.

     All of it was because of that boy, who left her when things got hard. Mom only thought of "young love" and said "a little heartbreak builds character!"

     Phil thought Edward was an ass, but that Bella was being a little dramatic about her first heartbreak.

     Charlie and I shared a similar sentiment: Edward Cullen better not come back to Forks. If he does, I'll kill him.

     I'd get away with it, too. Charlie would shut down the investigation because he'd be glad the boy was gone and wouldn't hurt his daughter any more.

     I'd hurt him, especially but not limited to the fact that I wasn't quite sold about Bella falling down the stairs after she ran off. I don't think Edward pushed her, per se, but I don't think they told us the entire truth. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever. I don't trust him or his family, aside from the good doctor. He's always seemed the most normal, from what I've heard.

---

     "Bella," I call, knocking on the door to her room. It was quit still, and I was waiting impatiently for her to answer. We had to go to school before we were late and got another day of detention.

     "Bella!" I shout, knocking on the door again. I hear some rustling and watch as the knob turns, only to find my sister with her pajamas on, her hair a mess, and looking like she had been through a hurricane.

     She blinked owlishly at me, almost like she was deciphering who I was.

     I sighed through my nose, trying to be sympathetic to her. I guided her to the bathroom and made her brush her teeth while I untangled her hair. In an attempt to keep it from getting ratty again, I braided it back tightly and wrapped put oils on the ends to try and keep it from frizzing up.

     "Sorry," she told me, staring blankly at the mirror. All the anger in my chest deflated, and for a second, I felt as hollowed out as she looked.

     Hollow, empty, devoid of soul.

     That's how she looked.

     Anger ignited in my chest again, but not at her. At her shitty ex-boyfriend who left her in the woods because he was a coward and couldn't break up with her properly.

     "Don't worry about it," I told Bella, "I'll get Charlie to write a note or something. I guess the driveway was extra icy this morning."

---

     The school day passed without much happening.

     Bella's friend Mike tried to get me to pass something on to her, but I couldn't hear what he said before Jessica pulled him away without a glance at me.

     I thought she was stuck up, but she wasn't a bad person.

     Lunch was subpar again, the cafeteria food being lukewarm at best and cold in the middle of the mashed potatoes.

     "I wonder if Charlie could threaten them into making the food better," I wondered aloud, poking at the food on my plate.

     Bella remained frozen in time, staring at the seat beside me as if she was waiting for someone to appear there.

     I sighed, shaking my head.

     I hummed to myself as I continued to poke and prod at my food u til the bell rang to get back to class.

---

     A few days pass.

     Nothing changes.

     Bella's still depressed and hardly living in the real world. She wakes up screaming from night terrors and Charlie's started to sleep in the couch so he doesn't have to get up from his bed anymore.

     I've started to develop insomnia, I think.

     I don't sleep until the early hours of the morning, since that's usually when Bella stays asleep, too.

     I'm awake from six thirty in the morning until two in the morning.

     My routine consists of waking up, getting dressed and ready for school, then getting Bella up and dressing her. It's about forty minutes allotted to each of us, and then an extra ten to get Bella's lunch ready and packed.

     I go to school with her, go about my monotonous but peaceful day, eat a silent lunch with my sister, finish my day, and go back home.

     When I'm home, I work on anything I didn't finish already. Sometimes I go in for work at the 24/7 diner at the corner of Wheatgrass and 74th, working the night shifts and getting home in time for Bella to stay asleep. I make my lunch from the food I got to take home from the Roy's Diner, I take a scalding hot shower, and I pass out for the four hours before I have to wake up again.

---

     Angela asked me how Bella was.

     She seemed like the only one that truly cared about my sister.

     Jessica was sour because she was ignored. Mike only wanted in her pants and was stringing Jessica along. And Eric was nice, but really only cared about the news paper and Angela.

     "Is she getting any better?" Angela asked me, sitting down beside me at the table I was reading at.

     "Not really." I replied, looking up at her for a minute. "Charlie's about to send her back to Jacksonville."

     "Oh," Angela said, looking sad at the news. "Is there anything I can do for her? I try to invite her out, but she never shows."

     I shrugged, "Not much to do. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink."

     Angela nodded, her lips thinning for a moment before she got back up.

     She patted my shoulder before she left, and I immersed myself back into my reading.

---

     Working the night shift at Roy's was never boring. We got loads of interesting people here. Charlie called the diner "a drunk's dream." Sure, it was a little sleazy and a lot of greasy food, but it wasn't horrible to be in. If you ignored the obnoxious 70s disco decor.

     A duo of two men were sat in my section, both of them looking like hell.

     "Welcome to Roy's, I’m y/n. What can I get started for you?" I asked, my peppy customer service voice grating on my own nerves so late at night.

     They both had tanned skin in shades of bronze, and long, dark hair. One had it pulled up in braids down his back, the other's hair loose.

     "A Pepsi, please," the first man said, and he looked to the other boy, "Jared, what do you want?"

     Jared ordered a strawberry milkshake.

     "Be right back!" I told them, spinning on my heel and going to get their drinks.

     "How old do you think those guys in your section are?" Chelsea asked as I filled up the drinks. She was staring at the two I had just spoken to, and I shrugged.

     "Dunno, don't really care." I said, "They look grown enough, I guess."

     "Grown enough?" She parroted, laughing, "They all have to be at least twenty!"

      Again, I just shrugged.

     "Ugh, no fun." Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and disappearing into the back to go gossip with the cooks.

     "Here are those drinks," I said, setting them down before each of the boys. "Anything to eat?"

     "I want two number twos with lettuce, tomatoes, unions, and pickles, please, and a large fry." Jared told me, and I wrote it all down quickly. Two double patty burgers and a large fry was a lot to get down, but boys had large stomachs, I guess.

     Sam spoke next, ordering, "A number three with tomatoes and lettuce only, with a number four with everything and a large fry, please."   

     Spicy chicken sandwich with everything on it and a pulled pork sandwich, I wrote, then said, "Be right back, then."

      I handled my other tables until the food was ready, and I had to ask Kass to help me carry it all. When I set the food down, in front of them, they both thanked me and started eating. I grabbed their cups to refill their drinks, and when I was back to the table, most of their food was already gone.

     "You two sure can put food away, wow," I said, setting the drinks down again. Jared had ordered another milkshake, and a water. Sam still got the Pepsi.

     Sam smiled, looking weary but better. Color had returned to his face, and his eyes looked brighter.

     "We're growing boys," Jared joked, and I smiled.

     When they left, after ordering a slice of pie, I got a nice tip and a doodled wolf on the check.

---

     Bella went out with Jessica to see a movie, I think. I wasn't paying a lot of attention when she said it, I had a mountain of homework from physics and not nearly enough time to do all of it.

     Charlie found Bella's wallet and told me to go give it to her, so I went to Port Angeles to find her.

     I saw Jessica first, and she was watching in mute horror as Bella spoke to some strange man on a motorcycle.

     "Bella!" I yelled, people glancing my way as I stormed up to her to snag her by her arm and drag her away.

     For a moment, she looked hopeful, like she was expecting to see someone else.

     "Oh my god, you're stupid!" I yelled, dragging her back to my car. "Do you not think about anything anymore? He could have kidnapped you! He could have done worse!"

     "I just-" she caught herself, flinching, "I thought I knew him."

     "Good lord," I said, swearing at her for her recklessness, "I thought Charlie would have told you about stranger danger, but I guess not! Maybe it's time for a refresh!"

     Jessica trailed behind us as I berated Bella and lectured her over the dangers of strangers and dark alleyways and motorcycles.

     I folded my sister into the passenger seat of my car, ordering Jessica in the back seat.

     "But, uh, what about Bella's car..?" Jessica asked, staring at me.

      "I'll get it tomorrow. I don't trust Bella not to do something else stupid with it now." I huffed, reaching over to buckle Bella's seatbelt and peeling out of the parking lot.

     I dropped Jessica home safely and pulled into the driveway, marching back inside.

     "Your daughter has lost all her sense!" I told Charlie, "Dad, you need to tell her about stranger danger again before she gets herself kidnapped!"

     "Y/n, now wait a minute-" he started, glancing at the door as my sister came stalking in behind me.

     "Bella, you wanna tell me what your sister is talking about?" Charlie asked, and I huffed as she just sighed.

     She explained and got a stern talking to, but I wasn't satisfied.

     I started going everywhere with her, after that.

     When we weren't in classes, I was attached to her hip. Hell, I even started sleeping in her room with her.

     She still kicks.

     But the nightmares become less frequent when we have sleepovers every night.

     I make her take care of herself by doing it for her, forcing her to brush her teeth and wash her face as I do her hair in the mornings and at night, packing a healthy lunch for her, and forcing her to keep up with her studies.

     It's exhausting, but it's better than staying up until I cant anymore, and it's slowly getting me my sister back.

     And then Jacob comes back into the picture

     He and Bella are fixing up some old bikes. I have no interest in them, so I sit with them and listen as they talk.

     Sometimes I draw some still life pictures of them, sitting together and working.

     Sometimes I sleep.

     Sometimes I do my homework like a good student.

     Slowly, I started to trust Jacob with my sister. I started picking up more daytime shifts at Roy's, and I started to relax.

     The nightmares still happen, but they've gone down to about twice a week now.

     Sometimes she only wakes up crying, others it's the screaming again.

     But progress is progress.

---

     "Y/n, I sat a group of three in your section. Booth in the far corner, babe." Makayla told me as I passed the host stand.

     "Thanks, Mak," I said, hurrying to drop off my drinks to some travelers before going to my new table.

     Ryan comes barreling my way to drop some food off, and I spin around him to avoid knocking into him and his tray of food. I get to the booth in the back, seeing some familiar faces.

     "Hey guys," I smile, recognizing two of my favorite customers, "I haven't seen you two in a minute, how've you been?"

     Sam, who I learned later from Charlie, had been the one to find Bella after she was dumped in the woods by Edward. I didn't care if he knew who I was or not, not really, because I knew who he was. I couldn't do much for him, but showing my gratitude for saving my sister through the Family and Friend's discount was enough for me.

     "So busy," Jared complains, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "He's had me doing chores for days and makes me take more if I don't do my homework! He's like my mom now!"

     Sam rolls his eyes as I laugh, reaching out to flick Jared in the forehead. The two of them have been coming to

     "You're working with me, I'm responsible for you. So sad for you." Sam says dryly, and I shake my head at their antics.

     "Strawberry shake and Pepsi?" I ask them, my eyes tuning towards their new friend.

     He looks rough, almost like Bella did. His long hair is pulled back in a hastily done bun, and his eyes are sharp and attentive. He looks at me oddly, his brows slightly drawn together and his eyes squinting slightly.

     "What can I get for you?" I ask him, an odd feeling rising in my chest as I meet his eyes.

     He's quiet for a moment before he takes a deep breath and orders a water.

     I nod, taking down his drink order and turning towards the kitchen.

     "Ooh, your friends brought someone new!" Chelsea crooned, coming to drape her arms over my shoulders as she watches me fill up the two cups in my hands. I roll my eyes.

     "Chels, why are you always back here when you're supposed to be doing your work?" I ask, dragging her towards the milkshake machine as I fill up Jared's strawberry shake.

     "I'm doing my side work! I got cut early." She says, smacking her gum in my ear. I cringe, reaching back to push her face away from mine.

      "Love that for you, girl, but get your smacking away from my ears, please." I told her, hearing her laugh as I add a cherry to the milkshake and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. She walks off to go finish cutting her lemons and I put all three drinks on the tray to bring them out.

     I set down the drinks and milkshake, turning the tray under my arm as I pull out my note pad to take down their food order.

     "Number three, no unions, large fry, and a chicken sandwich, unions, tomatoes, lettuce, with a large fry." Jared rattles out, and I jot it down quickly. I turn to Sam and notice a distinct lack of his friend beside him.

     "Chicken tenders and a large fry, number two and a basket of onion rings, please," Sam says, adding, "Paul will have the same as me, but without the onion rings and with fried pickles instead."

     I nod, writing it all down.

     "You want me to put a slice of pie in and bring it out later?" I ask, seeing Jared nod enthusiastically.

     "That'd be great, y/n, thanks." I again nod at Sam's words, turning away and hustling to the kitchen to put in their order.

     I service my other tables while the boys' food is being made, bustling around my section. I'm keenly aware of eyes on me, but I figure it's just someone waiting to get my attention so I can give them a refill.

     When their food is ready, I bring it out to Sam and his group.

     I set each of the baskets down before each of the boys, picking up their cups and going to get them refills.

     They each eat quickly, and every time I pass their table, my skin prickles.

     I try to see if it's one of them that needs my attention, but each time I look over, they're all engrossed in their food, or a conversation. Any time I look over, they're in tense conversation. I try and keep my distance so I don't disturb them, but I make sure to keep attentive to their cups and plates.

     I sigh after a while, deciding that I must be making things up. No one seemed to be looking at me.

     They ate quickly and I ran them their check. I was left with a good tip and a smiley face on the paper of the check beside Sam's signature.

---

     When I was finally cut to go home, I took a long shower and collapsed in my bed. When my eyes closed, I saw a picture in my mind's eye.

     Dark eyes framed by thick lashes. My vision slowly panned out, and I saw dark eyebrows. There was a slight wrinkle between them, like the person was frowning. Slowly, my mind put together a strong nose, then high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw. Finally, I saw long, dark hair framing this handsome face.

     Slowly, I put a name to the face I saw in my mind.

     Paul.

     Why I was seeing Sam and Jared's friend, I had no clue. There was no denying that he was attractive, though. His angular face and sharp eyes made him look uninviting, but his sullen demeanor was softened by his full, almost pouty lips and well kept hair. His lack of facial hair made him look younger compared to Jared, who's scruffy chin made him look closer to twenty than to seventeen. The long, silky hair on his head had been messily pulled back, yes, but it served to make him look almost boyish, also.

     I was pulled out of my thoughts when my door creaked open, and I peeled my eyes awake to see Bella standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, I pulled back the blankets around me and scooted over. She shut the door behind her and fell into my bed, sighing as I reaching out to pull the blanket over her shoulders.

     I fell asleep shortly after, Bella's breathing steady almost immediately.

Word Count: 3157

Author's Note:

Hey guys!! This is my first fic ever! Please lmk what you think about it 🥰

Also, I plan to change some things about the story. I'm going on a mix of the books and movies, but I plan to change the timeline a little, change the logistics a bit, and make some of the characters a bit older because I don't like how literally everyone is like 16?? Anyway, I'll probably put out a chapter of all the stuff I change to get some feedback and stuff

All rights go to the original authors and publishers !

[ronearoundblindly]

:peers out the window:

hey is that your bf sitting on the stoop?

(ok ignore that there are people in the background)

Ransom Drysdale x rich!reader from The Root of All Ransom

Warnings for--act shocked 😮--cursing and an argument (fluffy). WC short, maybe ~500

You've left dinner simmering on the stove to check for where your fiancé's gone off to.

He's outside, hunched over in the cold on the brick stairs leading to his wooded backyard.

Ransom rarely looks contemplative, but there he is, spinning his pinky ring and staring like he could melt it down by thought alone.

"Hugh," you call as you slink through the sliding door, "everything okay?"

Ran pulls a sharp breath through his nose and sits up.

"Fine."

That's a bit too dismissive for you.

"What's wrong with your hand? Does it hurt?"

With a shake of his head, he scrunches his nose and lift his palm higher.

"I think it's gonna feel weird." He spreads his fingers and pinches them back together. "Not gonna work side-by-side."

"What isn't?" you ask, sitting down beside him.

Ran just sighs and looks off into the trees. "A wedding band."

The man perpetually loathes change, and it's become your default to assure him very little ever will. Doing the average thing is boring. Ransom hates to be bored or boring. He always needs control over his appearance, too.

"If it bothers you that much then don't get one."

His head snaps up as you continue.

"It's just a ring, Hugh, and you know that if you ever cheat on me, I'll just have Dubois kill you," you shrug, a playful glint in your eye, hoping to make Ran laugh. "I'm sure he'd even do it for free."

Eyes angry and frowning, Ran scoffs. "He and I reached an agreement of mutual indifference...and I'm getting a fucking wedding ring."

Ok, so it's your turn to laugh instead.

"It's not funny. We're getting married, and I'm gonna have a fucking ring!" The bite in his tone is dead serious and utterly hilarious.

"Yeah, makes sense."

"Why would I not wear the goddamn ring?" he snaps. "You fucking better."

You have to tuck your lip into your teeth to stop smiling. "It sounded like you didn't want to."

His arms shoot out, chest broad and wide open, aghast. "You asked what I was thinking about, so I fucking told you."

"It's okay to be nervous, honey--"

"I'm not nervous," he barks.

"--because there's a lot going on right now. I get it--"

"I was just thinking--" he rips the pinky ring off his hand and shows you the chunky gold emblem "--I'd have to get this little piece of shit resized, for fuck's sake, not that I wouldn't want to wear a goddamn wedding ring! What the fuck, woman?"

You have to cover your mouth and snort, tearing up in amusement at his ire.

"Sorry," you wheeze, "you looked so serious. I thought--oh wow--I thought you--you're so dramatic." It ends on a cackle you can't hold back.

Ran's brow furrows.

"It's a practical concern."

You fail to compose yourself.

"I'm serious," he repeats. "It's a perfectly legitimate train of thou--why are you still laughing? Stop!"

You wipe your face to help relax your muscles and do as he asks.

"I know," you whisper. "I get it, Hugh. I do."

Of course, his eyes remain fixed on you suspiciously, especially when your hands cup his rosy cheeks.

"So sentimental," you coo.

"It was a normal idea I was thinking through, goddamn it."

You hiss and cluck your tongue. "Ouch, that must have hurt."

"Hardy fuckin' har," Ran gripes, swatting away your hands and shuffling to bully you into his lap, one of your feet landing on each of the steps, his arms wrapping your waist in a bruising hug.

You keep smiling at him while carding through his hair.

"Sentimental," you observe softly.

Ransom presses himself into your unscarved and bare throat, muttering "bitch" with the utmost appreciation.

You kiss the top of his head before burying your chilly fingers beneath the neck of his thick sweater.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I promise."

He grips you even tighter.

You two stay like that for a long time, which is fine, because dinner needs to simmer.

::very, very, very long evil laugh::

((I always feel like I should skip tags for really short stuff, ugh. IDK yet.))

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[eriexplosion]

Yesterday everyone was posting their feelings on TBB. I'm glad I waited, because there's a lot swirling around. Cut for negativity again.

I was introduced to The Bad Batch in August 2022 and fell instantly in love. The characters, the story, the complex family dynamics, they all spoke to me. I wasn't even a Star Wars fan but I went through and devoured The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, all of it. I threw myself into this world and adored every second of it. I must have rewatched season one over five times before season two even came out.

When season two premiered I loved it. Every Tuesday night I stayed up until the episode drop and devoured it immediately. I looked ahead at the schedule and took days off work for the double episodes, for the big Crosshair episodes - he was my favorite early on and season two only made that grow. But season two also really brought Tech into my radar even more. I had always liked him, but here he was shining. The Crossing really solidified it, as an autistic person. I'd never heard someone describe the difference in processing so succinctly before, so clearly, and it spoke to me like very little had. Here was a character that was like me. Here was a character that I needed when I was an undiagnosed child, someone that would have made me feel like I had at least some way of describing my differences.

Then, well. He died. It was an affecting scene, but it felt out of nowhere, it felt unfinished. Tech didn't even get the climax of the episode. He just fell into the clouds, the Batch grieved for a few minutes, and then the plot steamrolled right along.

I didn't believe it, not after the mad scientist presented his goggles and claimed not to salvage anything else. It seemed like such an obvious fake out. The longer I sat with it the less satisfying it felt. It felt so brushed over, so pointless, all for a mission that they accomplished nothing on. Then came the social media circus. Again and again his fall was shoved in our faces on Twitter, demanding we stream it. TikToks were made that were so out of touch they felt like parodies, the wound ripped open again and again, and I thought surely there had to be a purpose to it.

So I waited for season 3 as interviews were done that seemed to almost intentionally avoid calling him dead. As tweets were made promising we'd be so fulfilled if we could only see who was onscreen in the mid-season! (A tweet that immediately garnered dozens of people hoping it referred to Tech, all without a single comment to try and quell the speculation.) It felt already like we were being toyed with, but I thought it had to be for a reason or a purpose. More weirdly vague discussions went up about his Sacrifice, his Fall, his Anything But Death, even as everyone insists that it was so meaningful, the way he died on a mission that accomplished nothing. Jokes were made around Valentines Day.

He Fell For You, get it?

The first official use of killed went up on the databank right after the trailer, on Hunter's page of all places. The first time the interviews used dead was the Friday before the premier. It all felt too late, theories had already grown for months by that point.

Season 3 finally came and I waited up for every episode drop just like I did for season 2, hoping for him to come back or at least for him to be properly grieved, since we had barely a couple of minutes in Plan 99 before it was swept away for the next plot point. Surely Tech's impact deserved an episode of focus, if he were really gone.

The previously on plays his last words twice. But then we skip months into the future. We don't see Crosshair find out the news - even though Tech died on a mission to retrieve him. We don't watch Omega grieve. She barely seems to notice she's missing a brother. We got a brief allusion in episode two. It took three episodes to even mention his name in passing. Five episodes in everyone got their chance to look sad about him, but only for a few seconds and only when his skills were relevant. Compared to the gorgeous callback to Mayday in the same episode, it felt shallow. He had to have been more important than this didn't he?

Episodes 6 & 7 felt like maybe there was a reason. We see a new masked assassin that gets extra focus, who got put through a series of Tech-adjacent situations, whose beef with Crosshair was just a little too personal, who survived longer than all the rest but stayed masked. Rex talks about losing brothers, but Hunter says nothing about the brother they lost. I hoped it all meant something, that this was the reason that he felt so much like he was thrown away, so that he could come back in.

More one off mentions that only really come up when it's about how useful Tech would have been. More poking at the wound that still felt open and raw because we'd never gotten any closure. The closest we get is a single scene in episode eleven, so late in the season and so brief that I thought that couldn't possibly be it.

CX-2 comes back, and he talks like Tech. He's still not unmasked. I really need him to be something because otherwise what was it all for?

The most emotion comes in Juggernaut, from Phee. Its a highlight because it actually feels like it was about him, like he mattered as a person. It's episode twelve and we finally talk about him like a person. We never saw her get the news either.

Episodes thirteen and fourteen pass without any mentions at all. We're running out of time. Episode 15 hits and we get one raw one from Crosshair that Clone Force 99 died with Tech. It's the first time they directly say he's dead in so many words. It's the season finale. CX-2 is a nobody it turns out, and he dies faceless. Everyone gets a happy ending and after over a year of wondering if we'd ever get closure, it turns out Tech's just dead. But look how happy everyone else is!

Everyone gets to grow old. Except the autistic one of course. He's just dead and it hardly feels like it mattered at all. Did you know Wrecker and Hunter don't use his name once in season three? Omega and Echo mention him once each. Crosshair twice, only once with any emotion behind it. Phee tops the charts at three mentions, two by name and one by nickname. We see his goggles four times. I kept count.

There was never a bigger plan, this was just all he was worth. We spent two seasons on Crosshair's absence. We spent a whole episode dealing with it when Echo decided to go with Rex. Tech dies though and all his life amounted to was a handful of mentions when his skills would have been useful, some shots of his broken goggles, and endless cooing out of the text over how meaningful his sacrifice was. Too meaningful to take back, of course, even as Ventress is brought back from her own sacrifice.

I had really, really thought that this time autistic life would be worth more than autistic death. That a character that felt so carefully handled couldn't have just been thrown away for shock value, barely to even be mentioned again, his memory used to string us along to keep us watching. If you added up every mention and shot through season 3 it might actually clock in at less time than was spent on Mayday's send off.

I'm an adult. I'll survive, though the sting of seeing yet another character like me used as a stepping stone for everyone else's happy ending will take a while to fade. But I think about the child I used to be who needed a character like Tech. And I think about how it would have felt to actually get that only to watch him die a handful of episodes later as a side note to his family's story, barely even mentioned again. How badly it would have hurt, how deep it would have scarred.

I'm not that child anymore. But there are a lot of autistic kids out there that are the same as I used to be, and they're learning for the first time that people like us don't get happy endings. Instead they die so that everyone around them can rise up, and they might even get mentioned a few times. But don't worry. Everyone will tell you how meaningful and special it is and how delusional you were to ever hope for anything else.

The Bad Batch still means a lot to me. I think it always will. I love the characters. I love the family, and all the potential they had. But the sting of not belonging in this happy ending is there, and it's deep. It's been a long time since I trusted a show. It'll be a long time before I risk trusting another. And I hope that the autistic kids trying to learn how to close their hearts off behind new walls are doing okay.