#in the same scene. i had a very stressful quick change where i had to run across backstage because my exit as loki was across from my

[amphibifish]

fall is coming which means i get to wear my loki jacket over and over again. again

[penultimate-step]

Lately, I've been thinking about the effect of real-world time on perception of media. Or, wait, let me start from the beginning.

When I was 11, I read the book Ender's Game for some school assignment or another. I don't remember ever considering Ender a relatable character, but certainly my understanding of the events was shaped by being of an age to see the protagonist not so much as a young child but as someone of my peer group, someone who could have been slotted amongst my classmates without anybody batting an eye.

Over a decade later, I read the sequel, Speaker for the Dead; it takes place many years later, when Ender is in his thirties, and my feelings about the in-universe time skip were undeniably shaped by the real life time gap between my reading of the novels. Reading the first book back then and then the second book now created a feeling where it's almost like, I'm browsing the facebook page of someone I had known in middle school but lost contact with, checking up on how they're doing today. The real-time factor caused me to perceive it less like a timeskip, and more like a reunion - the feelings were closer to "oh wow, that's my boy! I haven't seen him in years! Wonder what he's up to?" Which in turn gave me a better position to appreciate the parts of the narrative about him struggling to find a place in his adulthood than I would have been had I perceived it more strictly as a quick skip from 11 to 20 to 36.

While musing about this, I considered a VN I played a few years back, which took place over three in-game days - except at the end of one in-game day, the game would lock you out from progressing for 24 hours real time. So that as the in-game investigator protagonist was ruminating on the information that had been discovered that day, the player would be forced to do the same. In this example, by forcing the player to experience the same timeframe as the in-game characters, the sense of it being an in-depth and extensive investigation increases, even though without the forced pauses the game would be short enough to blow through in a handful of hours real-time.

Which brings to mind how time effects things in long-running serial works. It's well known that an audience which watches an episode or reads a chapter week by week has a very different experience than one binging through whole seasons or volumes at a time, but I wonder if the real time relative to the in-universe time makes that effect stand out more? Fight scenes, for instance, have been known to take up several chapters in certain manga or webnovels. What does it do to the reader's perception, if from their point a view a fight takes a whole month, while for the characters they read about it's only been a couple hours? Readers might feel that the situation is more stressful, since the pressure of the fight has been ongoing for a long time for them, while in-universe it was a rough afternoon but no more than that. Contrastingly, when a series skips ahead or otherwise has long periods of time for characters that feel short for readers, it can feel like no time has passed and everything is still the same, unless the author really stresses the differences in world-state that occurred offscreen. Because the reader hasn't changed at all.

No conclusion here exactly, I just think it's interesting how often an audience's response to a work, the emotions felt, are more closely tied to their real-life timescale, something almost completely out of the author's control, as opposed to in-universe time, which can be intentionally shifted or played with for the sake of the narrative.

[ww2yaoi]

if web had gotten wounded in the patrol how do you think joe would've reacted? cause we all know (= like to think) he was worried about web in that one scene with the whistler, but idk how he would've acted on his worries had they come true🤔 would it depend on how serious the wound was? would he feel even more resentment cause web just got back and got hurt again and was once again to rest while they all have to keep working? if that was the case would the relief that he didn't die like jackson overshadow this resentment? idk i feel like i don’t know him well enough like you do to imagine this😭

first of all, I'm very amused that you think I'm some sort of joe liebgott whisperer. like we watched the same show don't doubt yourself and your interpretations </3 but yeah I guess I have been studying the blade for a while

okay. is it too much of a cop out to say yes literally all of that is going on inside of joe at once? but yeah, it would depend on the kind of wound web got because that would probably change the scenario. I guess I'll give you two answers then:

scenario 1: the wound is another clean, superficial million dollar wound like the one web got in holland

I think joe is more likely to be resentful and angry in this scenario. like you said, web hasn't been on the line as much compared to the other guys. they haven't had a proper break in months. while obviously getting wounded isn't fun, web had been lucky to miss out on bastogne. I think part of joe is constantly wrestling with his deep bitterness over web not being there to help them out and experience the misery he experienced and his relief that web wasn't there. because let's face it, he wouldn't wish that kind of shit on anyone. the way I characterize joe is he's in a constant push and pull with his very real firy resentment and his good heart. he has a lot of internal conflict because he's so angry (and traumatized) that it causes him to lash out. but later I think he regrets it because he's a kind person with a gentleness and generosity that's innate to his character

so, on the surface, yes, he would be very angry that web is getting out of it yet again. but I think another part of him would be glad because maybe this means web gets out of the war, if not unscathed, then at least alive. after all, web did get joe out of the patrol, and he was trying to prove himself in part because of how joe treated him. who knows, maybe if web hadn't stuck out his neck joe could've been the one who had gotten hit or killed. joe knows this. obviously, he would be pissed that web was leaving yet again (and I could talk about joseph "abandonment issues" liebgott all day) but I think his anger would burn bright and hot and quick and eventually his feelings of guilt and sadness would probably overtake it. I think joe and web would work things out eventually there would just be some hurt feelings as per usual with them... they don't communicate for shit or say what they mean because they're both scared and out of their depth and trying to uphold their facades because they care so much what the other thinks of them but they can't know it blah blah blah

scenario 2: the wound is serious, life-threatening, web might not die but he's in bad shape

I think joe is less likely to be angry or resentful in a scenario where web is hurt badly and genuinely in danger. I think he'd be pretty upset honestly and feel guilty over how he'd been treating web those past couple days. I think he'd also be afraid that his behaviour pushed web towards proving himself on the patrol and might've been the reason why web got hurt. however, I think joe would rather chew glass than express any of this to anyone, let alone web, which would cause him to be very touchy and stressed out and he'd probably still lash out in some ways.

I had a convo about this scenario with tierney/@kbsd and we talked about how joe would probably do other things to show he cares because he's such an actions over words kind of guy. he can't admit his feelings whatsoever. anyways, we thought it'd be a funny scenario if joe was always hovering around the hospital (say they're back in mourmelon and web is being treated there) and he keeps pissing off the nurses with his presence because he's checking up on web and bringing him the newspaper and like pestering the doctors about when web's bandages were last changed when web is asleep and can't hear it and just being a jerk and a nuissance and they're like can you please go away jesus fucking christ

anyways, I kind of lost the plot did this even answer your question at all

[boolger]

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 7 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5] [chapter 6] ☆ [Chapter 7] ☆ [chapter 8]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 7/10 ☆ 2,936 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, violence, more will be added

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The man who walked in was staring at Kate. He was 5’8, with an athletic build and short hair - the details were getting muddled in the darkness. There was only very little light from the hallway, shining in, illuminating the back of the man.

As he pulled his gun and it came into view, your mind felt like it was going to explode.

He was here to kill Kate.

He was here to kill Kate.

He -

Kate.

“Finally I have you, Watcher-“ the main whispered, making panic rise, watching him unlock the safety on the gun, “finally I can—“

You moved out of panic.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t see the temptation of just letting him shoot Kate, step backwards into the bathroom and let him take care of it. You wouldn’t be involved in it, whoever this psycho was. 

Yet, you still moved.

This time you didn’t have a taser, you didn’t have any drugs, hell you barely had a plan. The plan you had was so vague that you were impressed it worked in the seconds it took you to complete it.

Romeo and Juliet was a classic. It had been reinterpreted and recreated over and over again, in so many different ways and in many different mediums, but you had always been fond of the written versions.

In a way you wished you could remember one of the more iconic lines from it, but despite reading it at least once a year, your mind had been poisoned by the years of coding and hacking, from the stress of the last couple of days.

You threw the hardcover book directly at the man who barely managed to say anything before it collided with his face, all the dramatic scenes inside it making him stumble, falling over your laptop abandoned on the floor - and for that moment and that moment only, you felt dangerous.

With a couple of fast steps and quick hands, you pulled the gun out of his hand, flinching as it got off - but you threw it away and picked up what you could always trust.

Your book.

Written words printed on paper couldn't be hacked or changed, not like when it was on the screen.

There was movement around you and you felt pain as the man beneath you struggled, screaming bloody murder as you sat on his chest and just repeatedly slammed your book into his face, feeling his nose crunch one of the times. You might as well have hit him with your fear of emotional attachment.

Light turned on, voices, gunshots, yelling, screaming. 

You were hurting someone, you realised in terror, not to kidnap or in self defence - but because he threatened a mob boss you had somehow found yourself close to.

Violence was never the answer yet you didn’t give a shit, as you slammed Romeo and Juliet onto his face once more, full force.

You were the one screaming you realised, in anger and panic at the same time, as a pair of strong hands pulled you off the intruder, the book ripped from your hand, blood smeared onto the pages. Bleeding into the already tragic words of the story.

“Hey hey hey - It’s alright, Fae,” Gaz’s hands were on your cheeks, the man you had found annoying mere hours before, were suddenly like a beacon in the dark, grounding you and ripping you from the odd nightmare of your mind, “it’s okay, we got him.”

Everything went blurry for a moment, then unblurry - and then you saw Ghost and Price pull out the man you had attacked, pissed themselves, but clearly not at you. They disappeared out of the room and you blinked, Gaz in front of your face again.

“Fae what happened?” He asked, still holding onto your cheeks, maybe to calm you, maybe to make you stop shaking. You weren’t sure, but you felt out of air, just like when you ran away. 

Fear rushing through you for what you had just done.

“Fae - c’mon, speak tae us, lassie,” Soap was there too, brows furrowed, “it’s over now.”

“He - he - I went to the bathroom - and he was there - with a gun - pointed at Ka-Kate oh god is Kate okay, is Kate—“ tears were welling up in your eyes without your permission, fear rushing through you once more at the thought of Kate being killed before you could do anything; it made you want to throw up and you might as well just kill your—

“Sssh, pretty girl,” it was the voice of an Angel, the voice of a goddess, wearing nightclothes and with messy hair, whose pretty fingers pushed away Gaz’ hands, taking their place, “did he say anything, Fae?”

“He - he said finally I have you watcher - and then he aimed the gun at you and I panicked and I threw the book and and—“ 

Kate shushed you gently, leaning forward to rest her forehead against yours.

“Such a good girl,” she whispered and the world stopped spinning while she caressed your cheek, “such a good girl for saving me, thank you.”

Nothing but a whimper was able to leave you, words dying on your tongue, tears welling up once again. You wondered if you looked pathetic, if you should be embarrassed that Soap and Gaz saw this, and heard Kate calling you a good girl.

But you were a good girl once more - even though you didn’t feel particularly good, as you looked down at your bloody hands. Stained, just like all the people around you.

The man turned out to be one Phillip Graves. Another gang leader if you weren’t wrong and you speculated that he was one of the senders of the email interactions. You didn’t want to watch the security footage of him entering the room, even when offered. Your hands still felt dirty, despite having washed them several times. Besides, that still left the mole to be found - but Kate was safe at least. Two guards had died, which you presumed to have been the bump sounds you had heard earlier.

They left you, told you to sleep. To close your eyes and forget everything that just happened.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, despite several people telling you that you were safe.

They all went to deal with Graves and get rid of the bodies of two of his men too, while you laid in Kate’s bed, watching the door.

Waiting for Graves to walk in again..

Constantly hearing the sound of the book connecting with his face. You had broken his nose, split his lip and potentially ruined one of his eyes, they told you. As if you should be proud. The thought made you gag.

Dangerous. You had been dangerous, like you had wanted to seem to Kate at first. But you had never wanted to actually be dangerous, had you? The mere thought of Alice knowing what had happened, made you want to cry.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was early morning when Kate reappeared, instantly noticing that you weren’t asleep. Her face softened.

She was dressed differently than earlier, fully in black, hair that had been loose during the night, now pulled back away from her face. You didn’t say anything, your gaze resting on her - she winked at you, barely visible in the dimly lit room, making you huff - then she undressed.

For just a mere moment, you dreamt yourself away into a reality where Kate Laswell weren’t a mobster, merely a business woman or something - that she was your actual partner, coming home from a long shift, to hold you so that the two of you could sleep all night.

Yet, she wasn’t. You watched her walk into the bathroom, only in her bra and panties, turning on the light and hearing her rinse her face - you dared to believe that she wasn’t cleaning off blood. She reappeared just a moment later, hair framing her face, body backlit by the bathroom light. 

The light disappeared before she stepped closer, walking to you in the bed. Her hand was a little cold from the water, but you didn’t mind, leaning into the touch.

“Have you slept at all, Fae?” She asked gently. You shook your head. She climbed the bed, pushing you onto your back and settling in your lap before you could do anything. Kate Laswell was dangerous - you knew,, yet as she straddled you, you wanted to do anything for her. You wanted so badly to be good for her.

One hand rested on the mattress next to your head and the other on your cheek, as she leant over your - your lips meeting, a soft sound leaving you. Was this just… a reward? For having saved her life? You didn’t know, but even if it was, you didn’t mind.

Kissing her was like being dominated. Soft lips and tongue, sharp teeth to remind you who was in control. It sent burning sensations all through you, a whine escaping as her tongue played with yours, your fingers itching to touch her.

“Please,” you managed, as she finally let you breathe, chasing her lips for a moment, finally daring to touch, almost ready to beg her to do something.

“You don’t have to beg, Fae,” she whispered, a dark tone to her voice, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You were crying and squirming, twisting in the handcuffs that made it impossible for you to touch. Legs cramping a little, toes curling as she grabbed your plush thighs even harder, making escape from her warm, clever tongue out of the question.

She had made you come on her tongue and fingers two times already, trying to coach your oversensitive pussy to give you a third orgasm. Switching between fucking your hole with her tongue, sucking and licking your clit.

“Kate, Kateekatekate–” you were pretty sure your moans had stopped making sense after the first orgasm, but the older woman didn’t seem to mind; grinning into your cunt, as if she had found her new favourite thing to do.

Once again she pulled you to the edge of pleasure, teasing your body by offering it to reach the euphoria it earned for - and you were ready for it, so ready that it hurt. Your body tensed once more, a whimper leaving you and and and and –

Kate pulled back. 

A distressed sound left you as you were denied the high, eyes flying open as you moved your head to look down at her, almost coming at the mere sight of her.

Big, dangerous Kate Laswell, the unknown mob boss of the 141 gang, covered in spit and your slick, red in the face, her lips a little swollen - grinning, like a predator that had just been fed and offered extras, resting her head against your thigh.

The sound that escaped you was embarrassing, an almost pornographic, desperate moan at the sight, only making her laugh.

“So sweet, my little hacker,” she crooned darkly, “do you want more, darling?”

“Yesyesmore, please, Kate, miss, please,” the words almost stumbled out of your mouth without any pause, eyelids fluttering shortly as she kissed your thigh for a moment - then further up, towards your exposed, puffy and dripping cunt, the kissing turning into licking. Her tongue traced your stretch marks, a pleased hum leaving her as you continued your desperate words. 

A kiss to your pussy and then… nothing. Kate pulled back, almost making you ready to cry.

“Patience, Fae,” she cooed teasingly at you as you all but hiccuped with despair, “I have more for you.”

Said more, was a strap on with an almost 6 inches long dildo, that was currently bullying its way into you, making you twist and gasp as it stretched you. Despite already being loose from her fingers and mouth, it was different to be filled like this.

“Like this, hm?” she asked darkly, “dirty little thing, hm?”

You nodded, past feeling shameful if it meant she wouldn’t stop.

“Kate,” you gasped, a chuckle leaving her as she finally stilled, fully inside of you.

“I love when you moan my name,” she whispered darkly, grinding even deeper into you, making you wail. It had been a while since you had anything inside you, especially of this size, but Kate was clearly eating up every reaction raw, as if she could survive, only from this.

She fucked you stupid. It was rude words, but you were unable to describe it in any other way, unable to do anything but babble in pleasure, moaning and twisting in the handcuffs binding you to the bed.

Her fingers, all over you, digging into the fat of your thighs or stomach, her lips against yours or licking at your nipples.

Somehow, she made you come twice again. 

When she wanted you to sleep afterwards however, you refused. You might be out of energy, but you suddenly found your tongue, begging her to let you get her off, in any way she wanted. To do you the honour of using you.

She rode your face and you were sure you were in heaven between her strong thighs. Licking, sucking, whatever she demanded you to do. Kate’s fingers buried in your hair, gripping it and using you as if you were nothing but a toy to her.

If you could spend the rest of your life somewhere, it would be between the legs of this woman, worshipping her endlessly, offering Kate as many orgasms as she wanted, bringing her over the edge again and again. You would die happily with your face in her cunt, tasting her juices, letting her soak your face.

You could sleep afterwards, better than you had in a while.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Confusion overwhelmed your mind for a moment. Your gaze shifted from hers, then to the open gate.

“What?” You were sure you hadn’t heard her correctly, sure that it was some sort of test, to see if you would behave. 

You could see some of the others in the background, but they were like blurry silhouettes too you, the only one who mattered right now was the older woman who looked cold. 

“I told you to leave.” She repeated calmly. She was in one of her suits, looking beautiful and ready for the day. She had gotten you dressed up too, in new clothes, even with shoes on your feet. Which made more sense now.

“Is… Is this a test?” You were unable to hold back the confusion in your tone of voice, brows furrowing as you looked at her. Her eyes somehow seemed more blue today. 

Annoyance flashed on her face. Anger.

“Go home, Fae.” She repeated, slower and darker, almost degradingly, “leave, go home, fuck off. Out.”

Your eyes flickered to the men behind her, but they made no movement, merely watching the two of you. You looked back at Kate, in her sharp suit, hair pulled up, arms crossed and with an emotionless smile. 

“Are you serious?”

There was no hint of glee in your voice. Leave. Fuck off. Out. Did you do something to upset her, you wondered, did you not do well enough with Graves?

Kate nodded, not even bothering to answer your question verbally.

“I-” you wanted so badly to ask about what happened last night, if it was because you were inexperienced, if it was because she hadn’t been able to find the mole - if it was something anything that you could do better, “No - Kate, I don’t - I don’t want to–”

“How many times do I have to say it?” her voice darker, angrier, raising in volume too, “Get the fuck off my property, Fae. Go. Home. I don’t want you, don’t need you. You’ve paid back what you needed to.”

The words made you want to vomit. From anger, sadness, surprise - shame. Was this… all nothing for her? Had this been a payment kind of thing, had she not meant anything? Every sweet word that had dripped from her tongue like honey, every praise and secret, the moments you had laid next to each other in bed, like an odd comfort? 

This wasn’t Kate Laswell. This was Watcher.

You turned around on your heel, walking towards the open gate, wanting to scream, to yell profanities at her, say something mean, something you would regret. You wanted to hit her, merely in the hopes that it meant you could stay, even if it meant punishment.

When did you begin to feel like this?

You stopped, almost out the gate, almost touching the pavement that your feet had touched at your escape attempt, that felt like aeons ago by now. For just a moment, you considered turning around. Letting those words escape you, mean, rude, awful words, just to get a different reaction. Yet your tongue felt limp in your mouth and you knew you would cry.

You wanted to turn, to take a last look at her. 

Instead you took a deep breath. Then you bolted, already knowing the way towards a populated street.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

There was money in one pocket of the jacket you had been given. Your phone in the other.

The busride home was long and bumpy, but you didn’t care, merely staring out in the air, not even bothering to look at your phone.

Your house was empty, things having been put back to their places after they rummaged around. You just dropped the jacket, picking up mail - abandoning it on the table, ready to go lay down on the mattress you had kept Kate on, for such a short while.

Only to notice the sender of one of the letters.

The hospital.

[bestieriker]

i have thoughts about the pjo tv show but they might not be beloved... (long post, mostly just for myself but feel free to read my thoughts) (also lmk your thoughts! im curious if my experiences are universal) (also obv spoilers for ep8)

now i recognize i am watching this show through the lens of a much older person than i was when i read the books. percy is no longer older than me - he is now just a baby to me. and the actors are so young. so that might be the cause of some of my feelings. also i realize that a tv adaption is not going to be identical to the book. but what is tumblr if not a place to vent my frustrations, despite how irrational they may be?

i'll start with the good because there were some things i liked. i thought the actors mostly did a good job. the effects and sets and lighting and design was all very good, visually i think it was great. i like the gods i think theyre mostly well cast. I don't really have many problems with grover.

ok now lets talk about my frustrations. this isn't going to be super organized or logical. first of all, i had a problem with the characterization. most characters were actually not bad, but percy didn't really feel like percy to me. he seemed kinda darker? (whats he gonna be like when its dark!percy time??). like book percy obviously was not happy all the time, but he seemed light and he made jokes and he was a little goofier and i feel like in my mind he smiled more. tv percy kinda just seems sad all the time. and this might be a controversial take, but i feel like they gave some of percy's best traits to annabeth?? like annabeth was the one beefing with ares the most when he showed up. and a lot of the time she'd have a line that seemed so percy like!!! don't get me wrong - i love annabeth and the actress did a really great job! but i feel like she was kinda percy and annabeth at the same time in a way. i missed percy. also hades was different. they made hades fun which is cute but in the first book at least hes supposed to be kinda scary!!! i wasn't scared of hades at all. hades seems like he'd be a fun drinking buddy in this. those aren't the vibes hades should have, at least not at the first meeting.

ok next!!! where is the fun. pjo was such a fun series and i feel like the show has taken on more of a darker outlook! again i realize its a tv show and it was only an 8 ep run so they probably had time constraints, but i miss the fun little scenes that make the books such a fun read! like the "say hello to the poodle" scene ? or the scene where they're telling charon they died in a bathtub? and don't even get me started on the Crusty's bed scene. they just breezed right through that!!!

and thats another thing!!!! in the book they kept figuring things out while they were in the thick of it. which was fine!!! especially for percy - hes brand new to all of this, he has some knowledge but he makes mistakes because he's a kid and he is in a brand new world! and we get to see him and annabeth and grover get out of these tricky situations and figure things out!!! but in the show they know everything basically instantly. like the lotus casino or crustys scheme. i like seeing them make mistakes and fix it!! i don't think i was ever stressed watching this show (good stressed, like suspense stress) which i guess is in part because ive read the books but also because they were never in too terrible a position. and the kronos thing!!! percy knew right away. he was like oh word big pit? must be kronos. he did everything. like that is way too quick for early percy.

and then this is just me being nitpicky but i don't like how they changed things. like the luke betrayal reveal? where was the scorpion. that was so iconic and they just completely scrapped it! i thought it made luke's character kinda scary! like this guy fully just summoned a scorpion to kill percy. instead in the show hes like swinging at percy and percy manages to hurt him. i'm not scared of this luke. young percy, away from the sea, manages to hurt him? little annabeth scares him off? he runs away? ok big man try showing up again we won't be scared. idk it frustrates me.

one more thing before i wrap up the longest (and only) post i've made in ages. Sally Jackson using Medusa's head to turn gabe to stone was SO iconic. and what a great way for her to show us and the world and the gods how powerful she is. like she went from being sally jackson, mother and protector of percy (who was already pretty sick) to Sally Jackson, Capable of Basically Murder in a Super Cool Way!!!!!! i loved that. but in the show they just have gabe snooping and accidentally getting turned to stone? if i had never read the books and was watching this show with no knowledge of the books, i'd think it was just kinda a lazy way to wrap up a loose end. kinda felt like they took sally's power away (i know she divorced him but it doesn't really have the same gravitas).

ok i do have other thoughts but this is so long already and its bedtime. is it weird that i'm worried the younger cast might come across this? they probably won't care what i have to say but incase they do come across my super long post and read it (i would if i was 15 and starred in a show with a built in fanbase), i hope they take it with the biggest grain of salt. bc at the end of the day people like the show, its profitable (i assume), and i'm just a cranky old lady who doesn't like change. most of the changes i understand why they did it and i respect it. i'm just venting here. and you know what? if they release a second season (and third and fourth and fifth) i will be watching.

i guess i just wish they maybe had more episodes, or longer episodes, so they didn't have to rush it as much as (i felt) they did. overall it made people happy so who cares. have a good night tumblr.

[theanothersherlockian]

Me nace del corazón || Frankie Morales x Latinx!Reader

Just a quick drabble. I wanted to make Frankie embrace his Latin side jeje.

Reader is gender neutral, no physical description. She understans spanish and speaks it.

The translation of the song at the very end.

just 500 words

this might or not might be self indulgent (it is c: )

Music was always in the scene, no matter how the mood was. It could always lift him up if Frankie had a bad day at work, or keep the good energy on a good day.

You hadn’t gotten him to admit it verbally but he loves to dance, especially if it's with you. Well, he only likes to dance if it's with you. Swirling you around, humming along to the song, not minding where you were, not worrying about prying eyes, being with you was enough to take him out of his comfort zone.

You had a stressful day. Things at work didn't work out how you wanted, making a domino effect on everything else. It just wasn't your day. You just wanted to get home and de-inflate, laying on the couch with Frankie, maybe even starting a movie that you probably sleep through.

Once at home, you started making dinner, something small for the two of you. You put your playlist on your phone, something with a fun tempo to make you feel better, and in no time you started singing and dancing along too.

Frankie didn’t make a sound when he unlocked the door, he had made it sure to be that way when he heard you through the walls, your voice and laughter making him soft every time he heard it. He opened the door and made his way in with light feet. He stood there watching you, he couldn’t believe this was his life now, after everything he's been through at the military, he now can be at ease. If only young Frankie could see how his life would do a total 180.

You turned around, and saw Frankie there.

“You’re early” you say laughing

“Hey baby,” he said, walking closer to you, pulling and hugging your waist. He started to swing you slowly to the tempo of the music. Until it changes to a different song.

He grinned knowing the song. He would always sing that to you. The trumpets making the entrance.

“Frankiee!” you said playfully laughing into his neck.

“Me nace del corazón” he started singing along the song “Decirle que usted es mi vida, que no se vivir sin usted disculpe que se lo diga.”

Frankie started swinging at you jumping on his feet at the new fast tempo. His right hand held you tighter to the waist while the left hand intertwined your right hand, making it go up and down.

His voice was playful but at the same time his low voice made you feel something. He swirled you around on your feet. his right hand always knows its way to your hip. You both were dancing through the kitchen.

Your laughs impregnated the room. You were always happy to be with him, he made your days brighter no matter how bad they were.

“Y quiero sentir sus besos, su manos que me acaricien” you started singing with him as well “quiero comprobar que vivo, no quiero morir de amor”

You both were breathing fast, giggling into each other when the song was over. Your head resting on each other, lips bruising.

“I love you” you whispered to him, the breathing slowing as a sense of welcoming washed over you.

“I love you too baby” he whispered back to you. His soft eyes linger on your face

*~*

the name of the song is “Me nace del corazón” and it’s specifically Juan Gabriel’s version.

ME NACE DEL CORAZÓN DECIRLE QUE USTED ES MI VIDA: It is born from my heart to tell you that you are my life.

QUE NO SE VIVIR SIN USTED DISCULPA QUE SE LO DIGA: that i don’t know how to live without you, i’m sorry for telling you.

Y QUIERO SENTIR SUS BESOS, SUS MANOS QUE ME ACARICIEN: And I want to feel your kisses, your hands that caress me.

QUIERO COMPROBAR QUE VIVO NO QUIERO MORIR DE AMOR: I want to check that i’m alive, i don’t want to die of love.

[dexiiexox]

Bestfriend headcanons for Nick Sturniolo💜

a/n; Hihi! First time writing for Nick :))👍 might be off, but these are just what I imagine so enjoyyy :> and I know for a FACT that there are so many words Ive spelled wrong in this one, but Im too lazy to proof read it :)

Nick Sturniolo x reader (platonic)

warnings: none?

summary: headcanons of what I imagine being bestfriends with Nick Sturniolo would be like!

SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES❕

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I firmly belive that Nick would never jugde you if you’re close friends, he might not always agree on certain topics, but he would never jugde you

And that is also why you guys have such a close bond, you guys are able to tell eachother everything, wether it’s realationships, concerns, drama, something that’s recently been going on, anything, doesnt matter, you guys tell eachother

I just know he would take your concerns very seriously, he would always be there and listen to you rant to him about anything and nothing

And he would have no problem telling people off if they were out of line.

It had been a pretty stressful week and on top of that some of your "friends" had been acting so wierd. You guys hadnt hung out in a while, and you guys had decided to meet up since you had some openings in your schedual. But when you guys had hung out they had just been somewhat rude to you the whole time and made snarky comments. About the way you spoke or what you said.

You brushed it off in the start, but it just carried on and it honestly hurt. You just decided to stay quiet for the rest of the evening and left after you guys had grabbed some food.

You had just gotten home to your apartment, when you got a notification from your phone. It was a Snapchat notification, from a group.

You had been added in a groupchat with those same "friends" you had hung out with. There was one long message from them telling you they thought you had been acting wierd the whole evening. They stated that they thought it was rude that you werent talking much and left so quietly. They meant that you had changed.

You didnt really understand why they said that, where was all of this coming from? You hd been nothing but nice, despoter their comments and behaviour. You just sighed deeply and didnt bother to respond. All you wanted to do was shower and done off on the couch for the night.

You we’re able to take a shower before the doorbell rang. Getting dressed fairly quick, you went and opened the door. You we’re met with concerned Nick, now feiles written in his face.

I can definetly imagine Nick calling you or FaceTiming you whenever he needs to rant about shit that just annoys him

I was sat at my desk, browsing through random stuff on my laptop.I was in my own little bubble, listening to some slow songs and just mindlessly scrolling. That was until a loud ring startled me and brought me out of my daze.

It was a FaceTime call from Nick and I could see his face on screen. I pauses the music and answered the call.

"Hey-" I was cut short.

"Holy fuck!" Nick was basically screaming through the phone.

I was taken a back by his loud voice.

"Whats up?" I asked concerned seeing how bothered he sounded.

"Chris has been a fucking idiot all night." he let out a huff as he layed down on his bed. I just laughed a little.

"What’s he done now?" I gave Nick a questioning look.

"Oh boy if you knew, kids spilled my whole fucking Snapple in the car" I could clearly hear the annoyance in Nicks voice. I just giggled a little imagining how that scene wouldve looked like.

"And he’s jumping around like a damn monkey! He jumped back ONTO me!" He raider his voice again. I burst out laughing at that point and Nick ended up letting out a few giggles as well.

"Hellooo? Isnt that crazy?" He asked still giggling lightly.

"Sounds like Chris to me" I smiled back.

From there the conversation just went on, Nick rambled some more about Chris' shananigans in the car before we started talking about everything else that came to mind.

I also imagine that Nick would need help figuring out what to wear, and sometimes you would too

Like before going out, you guys just sit on the bed while the other one tries on different outfits and get the others opinion on it

(UFHSKDNDN i just need to use this opertunity to say that Nick is SO FUCKING PRETTY!! He looks so gorgeous I dont even know where to start)

Nick had invited me to go out for dinner with him, Chris, Matt and a few of their other friends.

And as usual I had stopped by their apartment so me and Nick could help eachother find the right outfit for the night. I had brought with me a few different outfits and clothes I was thinking about wearing, but I still couldnt really figure it out.

I had chatted with the three of them in the kitchen for a while before me and Nick made out way to his bedroom to get ready.

We had spendt some time trying to find the right outfit for Nick, and we finally found it. We ended up with him wearing his red and black knitted sweater, black parachute pants, his black chunky shoes and a pair of black glasses as an accesorie.

We spendt a good while figuring out what I would wear, all the outfits I tried either seemed somewhat off or like something was missing.

"No, it looks kind of odd?"

"Yeah, I dont know about this one"

"Absolutely not"

I tried on dresses, skrits, tops, shorts, fishnets, and I tired mutiple different outfits, but nothing felt right.

"The pants made it kind of wierd"

"Ouuhh.. yeah no-.."

"I think I’m loosing my mind, what the hell is this?"

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. I went back into the bathroom and tried on my last outfit. I looked myself in the mirror and smiled. I actually really liked it, but I needed to see what Nick thought of it. So I opened the door and stepped into his room. Nick looked up from his phone and smiled at me.

"Uhh yeah! Defiently, you look good girl!"

I smiled at his compliment.

"Thanks"

We both finished getting ready, we chilled downstairs with Matt and Chris before we all headed out for the evening.

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Im too lazy to write more :)👍

Regardless of that though, hope you had a good night or day and youre worth so much💕💕

-dexy💕

[olivinesea]

Come Unstuck

a/n: hellllloooo friends, it’s been a thousand and one days since I was able to write something but here we are. hoping this will prove an ongoing case of ability and there will be more in the near future. only time will tell.  on AO3

Hotch is having a little moment during a theoretically routine witness interview. No warnings, I believe it’s very tame. ~4.6k

Hotch and Emily pulled up to the curb, stopping where the GPS directed them. The house it indicated was sandwiched between two similarly dilapidated buildings. They may have been painted different colors at one point but had now achieved a uniformly sun-bleached, sooty grey. The waist-high chain link fence surrounding the two story building had warped, the rusted latch on the gate shored up with zip ties and electrical tape. A front yard of dry patchy grass completed the unwelcoming appearance. It seemed awfully far from the sleek nightclub where they’d first met their witness. A small porch obscured the front door in shadow, the numbers impossible to read. Emily double checked the address on her notepad, squinting at the building as she got out the passenger side. The sun was too bright and hot already, the situation made worse by the headache she’d acquired working through the night.

“I feel like maybe I got the numbers wrong.”

Hotch walked around the car to stand beside her. With his sunglasses on, his expression would appear neutral to anyone who didn’t know him. Emily still wondered at the way he seemed unaffected by the heat of Virginia summers. It was a quality she teased him about on better days. Not right now though. Despite his apparent cool collection, she could tell from the tightness his jaw, his precisely controlled movements that he was unhappy. She couldn’t tell if it was the same as her own discomfort—another disturbing night on the job—or if there was something else behind it. It was a question they had all been asking themselves constantly since Foyet, treating each of his microexpressions as a clue. She was a little too tired to think about it further, focusing what energy she had left on this witness interview. It had been a mistake to let the bartender leave but the scene had been chaotic and a series of miscommunications had landed them here, far in the outskirts of the city.

Too professional to let his bad mood get the better of him, Hotch shrugged in response. “Only one way to find out,” he said before approaching the house.

The doorbell didn’t work. He let himself press it again, releasing some frustration into the contact despite knowing it wouldn’t change anything. Exhaling sharply he looked around the porch, now revealed to his shade-adjusted eyes. It was an unremarkable space, crowded with half-dead plants and broken pottery along the railing. Old newspapers and the various kinds of detritus that accumulated without a vigilant steward. A faded tricycle was overturned in the corner. It was nothing more than a discarded toy but the sight of it slipped between his memories. He was momentarily trapped by its image, the plastic frame cracked nearly in half. He imagined he could feel the rough edges of the damaged seat, the crash of it breaking against a wall echoing in his mind as he tasted blood on his teeth. Tiny white spots danced in the corners of his vision and the scene telescoped away from him. He clenched a fist and closed his eyes, pulling back into himself. He didn’t have time for these ghosts, hatefully quick to find him weakened by stress and lack of sleep.

“Hotch?” Emily was standing just behind him on the steps when he’d frozen. She couldn’t prevent the worry in her voice the way she was able to hold back from reaching out to touch him.

He hated how easily she read him and deflected by banging hard on the metal screen door. Harder than he meant to, the sound ringing like a shot through the thick atmosphere.

That got results. After some scuffling the interior door opened, a narrow face looked up at them through the mesh.

“Does Leah Aldridge live here?” Emily asked, smoothly stepping up beside Hotch. She needed to double down on her charm to make up for the way they’d approached this house.

It was difficult to make out details of the face but a younger female voice answered, suspicious. “Why?”

“Miss, I’m SSA Hotchner and this is my partner SSA Prentiss, Leah Aldridge was a witness at a crime scene last night and gave us this address as her residence. We have some follow up questions, may we speak with her?” Hotch was formal and professional, holding up his badge so the girl could see it. Whatever had caused his imbalance before seemed to have passed.

A long pause stretched before they got an answer. “She’s not here.” They heard fussing from another room deeper in the gloom of the house.

“Can you open the door please?”

The grumbling from the other room intensified. A high pitched whine made it clear there were children ramping up an argument.

“I—I gotta go deal with that.” She’d turned away from them, making it even harder to see her features.

“It’s very important that we speak with her.”

“I don’t know—” a crash followed by a piercing shriek could be heard from the other room, making the young woman swear and step away.

“Miss-” Hotch called her back, his tone taking on a stern quality, his patience thinning as he became distracted by the irregular beat of his racing heart. There was no logical reason for that to be happening. The few stairs up to the front door could hardly qualify as exercise. There was nothing about this house that indicated danger; not to him, not in this present moment. All he needed was to keep his mind right here, facing the facts in front of him. He’d once been able to do this effortlessly but since he’d lost Jack, lost Haley, lost the illusion of safety in his own home it had become so much harder to shake those old fears loose.

Emily had chosen to walk the length of the porch, looking for a window to get a better read on the situation. Her distance allowed him to get a handle on the unease he was wrestling. Focused intently on making sense of the murky shapes beyond the shadowed outline of the person speaking, he missed how Emily snuck a look at him. She’d caught the strain in his voice but was careful to turn her head only as much as she might need to adjust to the glare on the dirty window panes. She knew how much he hated to be fussed over. That at least hadn’t changed.

Deciding there was no immediate concern, she had already turned away when Hotch landed a fist on the metal grate. Her hand instinctually went to her hip holster, muscle memory ready to perform the steps needed to make her weapon ready. There was no verbal response from the person inside but both Hotch and Emily heard the sound of a deadbolt sliding back accompanied by some disgruntled mutterings. The doorknob turned and swung forward just enough to allow the agents entry as their unknown speaker walked away to another room.

Hotch and Emily looked at each other. Hindsight being 20/20, they might both agree that there had been something off about the witness. It had been too subtle to name it in the moment, lost in the heightened chaos of the crime scene. She had been skittish but she had also just survived a gunman on a spree. Anyone could be forgiven for nervous tics and sentences that trailed into nothing, for postures that contorted to minimize her surface area, doing what little she could protect herself from another sudden crash of violence. Attempting to follow the shape her story, coaxing out the details they needed had been a test of patience but not one unusual for the circumstances. They’d released her to medical personnel without specific instructions to hold her at the scene. It hadn’t seemed necessary. A decision Hotch was now increasingly regretting.

Hours later, after they had done all that was possible at the scene, collected interviews from those inside and immediately outside the building, it became apparent they needed to follow up with the bartender. It turned out she was the one witness who had memories of the gunman entering the building. When Morgan had given him and Prentiss the job of tracking her down at home they hadn’t known what to expect. This dark and unwelcoming house on a lonely corner certainly wasn’t it. He brushed his fingers across his gun for reassurance but didn't draw it. There were obviously children inside the house and while he wanted to be ready he would not put them in unnecessary danger. They shared an unspoken nod of agreement before pushing the door open and following into the building.

Their eyes adjusted gradually to the darkness of the interior after the bright midday sun but it was thankfully much cooler. A fan next to the window buzzed lazily, creaking as it turned from side to side in the small entryway. The curtains were all drawn tightly, the dim lighting masking the space in deep shadow. They followed the voices to the next room where a TV was playing cartoons at a low volume and the carpet was littered with toys. There was a child who looked about five or six pouting on the couch, arms crossed and glaring at the person who had answered the door. She looked even younger than Hotch had judged by their previous exchange. She must have been fifteen at the most. In her arms was a squirming toddler who pulled on her hair as he tried to get out of her embrace.

“Stop it—ow!” She grabbed the toddler’s wrist and he let go, now frozen and staring at her with big wet eyes. He looked like he might be ready to scream.

“Is something burning?” Emily asked, partly to distract and partly with concern.

“Fuck.”

The girl spun through another doorway into a small kitchen. Hotch and Emily looked at each other, then at the pouting child on the couch. He had his fingers in his mouth and glared at them like they might be the reason for his distress. They knew they wouldn’t be getting any answers from him so they followed the teen into the kitchen.

This room was brighter than the last but not by much. The one window was obscured by a mismatched collection of jars and cans littering the window sill. There was a table pushed up against the far wall, a high chair making an odd angle with the corner of it. The beige linoleum had worn through in places, showing plywood underneath. The set of her shoulders made it clear she would rather not have these people following her through the house but she didn’t have time to worry over them now. She leaned down and loosened her grip on the toddler, sliding him to the floor so her hands were free to manage the disaster in front of her.

“I was making them lunch,” she explained without looking at the visitors, annoyed that she felt any of this was required.

After turning off the stove, she grabbed a partially burned grilled cheese from the pan with her bare fingers. She dropped it onto a mostly clean plastic plate she found on the counter. Biting her lip, she looked at the blackened bread, knowing the two little ones would not be happy about it but this had been the last of the loaf. There would be no do overs. She pulled a knife from the drawer and did her best to scrape some of the burned parts off, brushing the crumbs into a sink full of dishes before cutting the sandwich into triangles.

Hotch and Emily exchanged looks. Hotch frowned, uncomfortable with how far astray this errand had gone. Their witness was not here and now they were becoming increasingly involved in a domestic setting that put his teeth on edge. Emily shrugged one shoulder, reading his mind but unable to think of an alternative beyond following along with this new direction. She tried to look as friendly as possible.

“Hey I’m Emily, what’s your name?”

“Vivian,” the girl replied, hesitating but deciding this was a harmless question.

The toddler began fussing again, moving closer to his caretaker and risking suspicious glances at the two strangers.

“And is this your brother?” Emily asked, squatting down and reaching out a hand to the child. Avoiding her, he turned his face into the girl’s leg, gripping the fabric of her pants with both fists.

Without looking at the agents the girl nodded. She was opening a cabinet to find some cups.

“Where are your parents?”

Her shoulders tensed as she turned around holding the cups tightly but managed to keep her face neutral. “At work.”

“You’re here with them alone?”

She rolled her shoulders, focusing on her task, not offering more information. Leah was supposed to be home last night. That had been the deal when her sister started this job: she’d always be there in the mornings to help with the kids, getting them to school and daycare. This wasn’t the first time she’d broken that promise. A few times early on the social scene of the night club staff had drawn her sister in. Leah had apologized each time, explaining that it was necessary to get the other staff to trust her, that she didn’t want them to think she was a narc. She was always too exhausted to argue with her sister’s bright glassy eyes, her pale complexion washed out by the overnight glow of the club’s blacklight. It didn’t happen too often, not more than she could handle. Leah was around more than either of their parents at any rate so she’d take what she could get.

But this morning had been an unpleasant surprise. Both kids had woken up with fevers high enough that their illness was obvious just by looking at them. Neither would be allowed to go to school and there was no one besides her to watch them. No one who would do a halfway decent job of it anyway.

As they watched her move around the kitchen it was obvious that the girl was made self-conscious by their presence. She kept wincing at every loud whine the toddler made and cursing when he got underfoot.

“Are your parents home?” Hotch asked again, forgetting she’d already given an answer. He was disturbed by how on edge, how frazzled this kid was. It agitated that same familiar ghosts in his mind that the porch had. He didn’t want to allow that any more attention than it had already pulled.

Vivian hesitated half a second before shaking her head, trying now to coax the child out of her path, to let her get by him to the refrigerator. The side of Hotch’s mouth pulled tight, the lie all too obvious to him now. He lifted his chin at Emily, subtly indicating she should check the rest of the building. Emily excused herself, stating she needed to make some calls. The girl was too distracted by navigating clingy child and lunch to care.

She opened the fridge door and, though she blocked it with her body, he could see the shelves were sparsely populated. Vivian held the two cups with her left hand and poured them half full before sliding the milk carton back on the shelf. She nudged the door closed with her hip and transferred the drinks to the counter while she dug in a drawer for lids. Once they were snapped into place she gathered everything, tucking the cups between her arm and body while holding the plate in one hand and the toddler’s grasping paw with the other. Hotch wanted to offer help but she pulled her mouth in a straight line, pointedly looking past him before marching outside.

As she passed through the living room she called out to the child still sitting on the couch, staring at the colorful images on the TV as he sucked his thumb. When she called his name again he removed the digit guiltily, looking at the tall man following his sister with a frown. He didn’t like strangers, couldn’t understand why his sister would allow him to hang around. She got both children outside and sat on the cement steps leading down to an equally scraggly backyard. The older one grabbed a piece of sandwich in each hand and ran off to sit on a play structure.

“Hey,” she yelled, waving the milk cup at him. “You forgot something.”

All she got in return was a defiant glare, his refusal emboldened by the wooden beams surrounding him in an imaginary fortress. She shook her head in disgust and set the cup down on the step. Meanwhile, the little one decided he approved of Hotch. After tugging the man’s hand until Hotch sat down on another step, he leaned against the agent, wrinkling his suit and probably leaving a trail of greasy fingerprints as he played with the buttons on his jacket sleeve. Hotch placidly handed the boy pieces of sandwich, feeding him in the same way he’d fed Jack hundreds of times, the way he’d fed Sean long before that. He felt the hollowness of their absence, an ache that burned like an ulcer. He didn’t let this show on his face, keeping a small smile of encouragement each time the kid took another bite or sip of milk.

The back door creaked open as Emily poked her head out to talk to Hotch. He didn’t miss the way the Vivian’s shoulders twitched at the sound though she masked her expression into smooth disinterest when she saw it was only the other agent. She got up to take the second milk to the miscreant in the yard. This FBI business didn’t concern her.

“Garcia says they’re coming up empty in the search,” Emily said a little too loud, holding up her phone to suggest she’d been speaking with the office.

Hotch read between the lines and frowned, he’d been certain there was someone else in the house. All the girl’s body language had been indicating it, he’d been sure. He’d known that fear, hadn’t he? He reviewed the details they’d been met with since arriving, trying to strip away the embellishments his memory had been patterning onto them. He was not comfortable with the situation they’d found at this house but now wasn’t as sure of his conclusions. He sensed the likelihood of finding anything else useful here was negligible but he needed more answers to calm his worry for the wellbeing of these children.

“Why don’t you go meet Morgan and Reid at the second site, I’ll stay here a little longer to see if Ms. Aldridge turns up,” Hotch glanced at Vivian who is negotiating with the child in the play structure. He knew he was being foolish but he wasn’t ready to leave. “You can send a car back for me.”

“Please,” he added when he saw Emily’s eyebrows draw down in disapproval. There were many reasons for her not to like his course of action here, not least of which was his bizarre behavior since they’d arrived.

He tried to promise with his eyes that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, he wasn’t being self destructive in this moment. He just needed to try to understand this situation better. To unpick the ways it was tangling with his own memories, threads crossing and snarling in old heartache.

Emily tossed her hair back with a sigh. She supposed she was still willing to follow his lead and anxious to keep moving regardless. She scanned the yard before retreating into the house. “See you back at the office, boss.” He didn’t seem to be in any physical danger here at least.

With Emily gone and the children taken care of for now, Vivian returned to sit on the steps, leaning her elbows back behind her, her bare toes curling in and out as she enjoyed finally sitting down. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of her cutoff jeans, shaking one out and lighting it seamlessly.

Hotch gave her a look that communicated his opinion of this. She could nearly hear his comment about her being too young without needing the words to be spoken. She didn’t bother to respond, only making a face and taking another drag. As a slight concession she turned to blow the smoke over her shoulder away from their group. Relaxed finally, she looked more like the teenager she obviously was and less like a harried caretaker.

Hoping to use this change in demeanor to get more information from her, Hotch tried to draw her into conversation. He chose his questions carefully, trying to keep things light as he probed for more details about her sister and their other family members. Her answers were impressive in their brevity, proving the exception to the rule that all teenagers were self-obsessed and ready to chatter at anyone about their lives. He felt a familiarity in that closed-off guardedness as well. In the end he barely learned any more than he had been able to deduce from what they’d observed in the house. This was a family in which the responsibilities had, however unfairly, been delegated to members barely more than children themselves. Beyond that he couldn’t tell if something had gone more wrong for these children.

While he asked his questions, the toddler crawled into Hotch’s lap where he settled snuggly against his chest. Within a few minutes of this boring adult conversation, his eyes, so heavy from his lunch and illness, had completely closed and he dozed there in the warm quiet. Hotch sighed to himself, the weight of the child having a relaxing effect on him as well. It reminded him that the echos he’d been feeling were only that—substance-less flashes of a past he’d left long behind. This situation he’d come across, while ringing some of the same notes of his memory, was not his at all. It may not be ideal but in this moment these children were safe and they could feel it. He knew he needed to return to his team, that the best way of helping them now was to find their sister.

“Vivian?” Their conversation had gone quiet for long enough that she tensed when he said her name. “It’s time for me to be heading back to the office, can you do me a favor please?”

She shrugged, noncommittal, stabbing out her cigarette a little too violently.

“Will you call your sister please? We haven’t been able to reach her but maybe she’d answer for a family member.”

Vivian rolled her eyes, not hiding how ridiculous she thought that statement. Had he never had his calls screened by a family member that wanted nothing more than to be family-less?

“It would be really helpful.” He could read what she was thinking but there was always a chance and he needed to find out.

“Fine,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket. She considered showing him all the unanswered calls to Leah she’d already made this morning. She jabbed the buttons and listened to it ring, turning on the speaker and holding it out to Hotch when the answering machine picked up. Her face had a bored told you so expression so similar to Emily’s he couldn’t help but chuckle, the smallest exhale of amusement.

“Thank you for trying,” he said sincerely. “Maybe you should try your parents as well? Let them know what’s going on.”

This statement broke whatever peace they’d arrived at. She pulled her phone away, sliding it into a pocket as she stood up. There was no longer any playfulness in her expression.

“I’m going to take him inside for a nap,” she pointed at the kid in Hotch’s arms. She had gotten too comfortable in the afternoon sun, had almost forgotten she who she was speaking with. It was unlike her but she could blame it on the exhaustion of her unexpected day. Goddamn Leah.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” Hotch kicked himself mentally for his error, for ruining the little bit of trust he’d built.

She ignored his apology, holding out her arms for the kid but unwilling to get closer to the agent or meet his gaze. When Hotch didn’t immediately move she gritted her teeth. She’d let this go dangerously far, next thing she knew he’d be calling in children’s services, walking away with her brothers in hand, saying some useless line like: it’s in your best interest. She needed him out of there now. “He’s drooling on your suit.”

Hotch looked down at his chest to see that this was true and when he looked back up he caught her eye for a moment and her mouth twisted into something conceding a smile. A rumpled child on a tailored jacket was at least marginally funny. She might not completely regret this visit but she was done with this conversation, that much was very clear. He shifted the kid as he stood up so he could pass him to his sister. Once transferred, the boy immediately wrapped his arms around her neck and pressed his face against her. She called quietly to the other boy who was now sitting on the swing, digging his feet into the dirt. When he looked up she jerked her head toward the house. He pouted and shook his head, toes pressed deeper to anchor his position.

“NOW,” she mouthed.

The little boy sighed, tired of all his big sister’s demands but mostly just tired and not wanting to admit it. It was too bright out here anyway. He slimed his way to his feet, moving in a manner peculiar to small children who want to make it clear they are going somewhere against their desires but find it beneath them to throw a complete fit about it. Yet.

While this was happening Hotch fished a business card out of his wallet and wrote a number on the back. “Here, take this, if you hear from your sister, please call me right away,” he said as he handed the card to her.

“Sure,” she palmed the card into her pocket with one hand while the other kept the toddler balanced on her hip. She opened the door, holding it with her foot while she waited for her other brother to make his turtle-speed walk across the yard.

“Thank you for your time.” Hotch was still having trouble letting this kid walk away despite there being nothing left to say.

“Okay.” The other boy finally made it up the steps and she shooed him inside. She stayed angled so she blocked the doorway. “There’s a gate on that side of the house.” She gestured with her chin. She was not about to have him come back in, FBI or not.

Hotch nodded his understanding, brushing some sandwich crumbs off the sleeve of his jacket. Whatever else might be going on in this home, this kid was not afraid to stand her ground. That was a good sign he thought as he walked away.

“Hey thanks for help with lunch,” she called out just before he’d turned the corner.

Hotch smiled and turned back to wave but she’d already ducked out of sight, the whisk of the latch snapping into place severing what remained of the moment. Head finally, mercifully, clear of the hauntings of his past, Hotch pulled out his phone to check in with Garcia, ready to see where his team needed him to be next.

[captainjimothycarter]

2023 Steggy Week Masterlist

I can finally post my masterlist! Thanks to @steggyfanevents for this year!

Day One (Headcannon) - Beardly Recognize

Peggy insists that Steve doesn’t have the face for a beard. Steve decides to prove her wrong.

Day Two (WIP) - Chapter 7: The Best Things In Life

Peggy is by Steve’s side when he wakes up.

Day Three (AU) - The Star Spangled Nightmare

The One Where Peggy Has Beef With Superheros But Then Meets Steve Rogers and Wants To Hate Him But Can’t. Peggy had a life plan for herself and none of it ever involved this superhero business. That changed when she lost everything due to a hero/villain incident, forcing her to make some quick life decisions. Now, she owns an organization where she helps people who were in the same situation that she once was in. She just made the mistake of opening it down the street from the Avengers.

Day Four (Friends & Family) - Teddy's Party Trick

Teddy Carter-Rogers is very much like his parents. He’s cunning, smart, and cute as a button. He’s taken after them in more ways than one, including superpowers. With both parents having the serum, they had no idea what chaos they had released on the world.

Day Five (Missing Scene) - Master of Time

Every moment he experienced in the future, he wanted her by his side. Every laugh, sob, somber moment, and smile - he craved her. She’d fit perfectly in the future, complete that missing piece of the puzzle. He could have what he’d wanted, his comfort, his past, and their future together. Why shouldn’t he? After all, he did control time. For once, Steve Rogers was going to make a selfish decision. He could paint his reality, his future, and bring Peggy along for the ride.

Day Six (Multiverse) - All That Stands Between Us (And Infinite Silence)

Neither of them knew what would be on the other side of Hydra’s portal, but Steve knew he couldn’t let Peggy go through the consequences of going through it alone. On the other side, they found themselves in the future in another timeline. A timeline that had never seen Peggy Carter or Steve Rogers come to their full potential. Peggy had married Fred and lived until the age of 83, living the life of a housewife and raising three kids. Steve had died shortly after his mother’s death, succumbing to a broken heart. Coming out on the other side of that portal was one ordeal, the universe decided they needed another when Steve collapsed under the stress of interdimensional travel. Before they can begin to find their footing in this new world, they need to find a way to save Steve. Hydra couldn’t even be blamed as they were eradicated shortly after the war had ended by the Howling Commandos of this time and someone named the Winter Soldier.

[moonchildlix]

TMNT PIA: Character introduction - Raphael

(I do wanna stress that his design has changed quite a bit since I drew this, I just don’t have an updated version yet)

Hamato-Teng Raphael is a scorpion mud turtle, he’s 16 years old, 5’7” and goes by he/him pronouns, bisexual. He’s the second oldest. This version of Raph, similar to Mikey, is very much a combination of many other version of the character, the main two being ‘87, as shown by his overall sassy and sarcastic nature, and also 2003, just a slightly more chill version. He still gets angry quite a lot but he’s not got as short of a temper as Raph is usually depicted having, he more so just gets annoyed and won’t actually yell and get angry unless it’s something that’s a real trigger for him or he’s already under a lot of stress. He’s not very proud of it though. Overall, Raph has a very brash and sarcastic personality with a quick, sharp wit. He will often use these traits to deflect criticism or insults, and side-step responsibility. He will switch between playful and destructive as he pleases, and his humor tends to be crude and crass, with an emphasis on dirty and violent jokes.

(This is your reminder that thus series is rated Mature, there are no actually sex scenes but the boys do like to jokes about it from time-time because well they are teenage boys at the end of the day)

A few fun facts to get to know him better

Similar to Mikey in this iteration, he also has a tendency to be the annoying older brother who’s constantly teasing and ‘bullying’ his younger brothers (Especially Leo) whenever he gets a chance, but where Mikey’s is usually calling them names, holding things just out of their reach and jumping out of the closet and scaring them, Raph takes it a little further e.g. randomly wrestling them out of nowhere, hitting them completely unprovoked, stealing their things and hiding them, kicking them off the PlayStation, pushing them too hard on their homemade tire swing so they fall off, giving them unconnected controllers so that they think they’re playing the game with him, splashing water at them, throwing a ball with too much force etc. as well as his tendency to make everything a competition.

When it comes to weapons, he prefers to use two at the same time e.g. sai, katanas, daggers, tonfa and even nunchucks. He can use a bo (which he has a tendency to set in fire whenever he uses one) or an odachi just fine but he prefers the feeling of using two at the same time, mainly in part because he’s ambidextrous.

He has a surprisingly deep, passionate appreciation for romance. Because of this, he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic who jumps at the opportunity of a girlfriend or boyfriend that he completely ignores their red flags and even his own.

He’s a surprisingly skilled seamster. He makes most of his own outfits as well as stuff for the others e.g. Leo’s cape and Donnie’s hoodie.

Because of how long and sharp his claws are, he tends to avoid touching others because he’s scared of accidentally hurting them. This was a lot easier to avoid when he was younger as Splinter would just clip them for him, but now that he actually uses them them for defence in case he looses his weapons, he can’t do this anymore.

If I had to pick a voice actor that I would like for Raph to be voiced by I would definitely pick Michael Kovach, who you may know as the voice of Angel Dust - Hazbin Hotel (pilot), Jaxx - The Amazing Digital Circus and Rocky - Lackadaisy

[musewritingsforyou]

Headaches In Milan

a/n: so this was definitely later than I meant it to be! Sorry, I totally disappeared for a while, but I'm back now and here to stay! I have posts scheduled for every other day for the next couple of weeks so stay tuned for some good times!!

same universe with Medic!y/n

1.4k (a shortie) fluff, comfort, humor, behind the scenes of Milan movie shooting

tw: headaches?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The planning of this tour and the filming in Milan had been in the works for a very long time. From before we had even left for tour we knew that one of the shows would be filmed and made into a short movie, it was about three months before we left for tour (fourth months before the concert in Milan) that we found out which one exactly was being filmed. Normally, while all the other staff gets worried when the boys are messing around during rehearsals I take it in stride. I never have any issue with them goofing around because I know that in the end they always get the job done and do wonderfully. That is, except for the week leading up to the filmed show. I hadn't expected it to be any different in my mind than any other, but the thing is, even if it was the same as any other show on tour in my mind, the reality was just so much different.

With the amount of extra work I had to put in so that everything was perfect, not to mention the amount of work I was helping everyone else with and my regular jobs on tour, I was starting to go crazy. The boys had noticed how busy I was a few days before we got to Milan. While they were all enjoying themselves like usual on the bus I was working the entire time. It wasn't too bad just yet though, I was still sure everything would be fine, I wasn't too stressed or concerned, more just busy with all of the different things I was trying to arrange. That all changed once we actually made it to Milan and had three days to set up for the filming of the show. My general busyness turned into sleepless nights staying up working and days full of more work and more stress. By the time we had gotten to the day before the concert, almost everything was set up, but I had barely slept in two days and had only eaten a muffin with my coffee this morning. The stress of it all was starting to get to me and suddenly even the large amount of caffeine I was drinking couldn't keep the raging migraine I felt at bay. I was chewing on my cheek in pain while everyone walked around the venue casually. There were no rehearsals or interviews or anything today, we all agreed that it would be better just to have the day “off” and hang out at the venue, fixing anything we needed to and living for the moment in the calm before the storm. Even though there was no real work to do I still was walking all around the venue through my migraine, looking around and triple checking every bit of equipment I found on my walk. Harry jogged up from behind me and snaked his arms around my waist, placing his head on my shoulder as I rubbed my head.

“You all right love? I can feel the stress coming off of you.” I moved my hands to be on his and turned around so that my face was in his chest.

“Stress? What stress?” He laughed and kissed the top of my head before holding me out at arm's length and taking my hand. He could see clearly in my face that I was in pain and his eyebrows knit tightly together.

“How about you and I go to the bus and take a quick nap, huh? You look like you could use it.”

“I don't know Haz, there's a lot I have to check and make sure-” he stopped me by pulling me along by the hand towards the bus.

“Haz really, I don't think-” He stopped pulling me as we entered the part of the venue where our bus is parked and turned around to look at me. He took both of my hands in his again.

“y/n, look at me. You've done great, you have already triple-checked everything and it's all going to go amazingly, now I can see by the look in your eyes you haven't slept and you probably have a raging migraine so just let me take care of you for once yeah?” I sighed but let him lead me onto the bus. He was right, I had checked everything dozens of times and I did have a migraine. I sat down on the couch in the main part of the bus and Haz went to get me a glass of water and some painkillers. By the time he got back to me with both in hand, I felt like my head was about to explode. All the stress and exhaustion and pain of the past week finally got to me. Seconds after I took the pills I let out a tear.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” I started blubbering like a baby into his chest.

“My head hurts, and I'm tired, and I'm stressed, and there is so much to do and-” I went on and on for a few minutes before I finally calmed down. I wasn't crying anymore, though I had practically thrown myself into Harry. My head still hurt horribly, the painkillers hadn't even made a dent.

“What can I do love?” he asked me softly and stroked my hair. I shrugged into him.

“I'm so tired Haz, but I can't sleep because my damn head hurts so bad.” he continued to run his hands through my hair and then he moved so that we were laying down on the couch, I was curled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, placing kisses on my forehead. He kept on stroking my hair for about an hour but still, I couldn't fall asleep because of how much my head hurt. I was crying again now, not dramatically like before, just a constant stream of silent tears because I was so tired and my head hurt so much. Finally, Harry decided to do his last-ditch effort at helping me go to sleep. He took off his shirt so that my face was now flush against his chest, he placed my weighted blanket over the two of us, had one hand rubbing my back, the other stroking my hair, and then he began to sing. It wasn't something I had heard before. Might have just been something he was making up on the spot. I couldn't tell you what the words were but it had a sweet soft melody. It still took a little bit of that for me to fall asleep but when I did he could feel the tension leave my body and my breaths slow. He still didn't stop stroking my hair or singing, he kept going just in case it would wake me if he stopped.

When the boys walked in an hour later to grab some things from the bus Harry frantically waved one hand at them, trying to get them off the bus. Finally, one of them saw me asleep under the big blanket, clinging to Harry's bare chest, and told the others to shut up.

“Took me nearly three full hours to get her to sleep!” Harry whispered to them as they all sat down on the couch opposite us.

“Jesus mate what was she on, cocaine?” Louis laughed and a few of the other boys along with him.

“Oi! She's been working her adorable little ass off so that everything goes good for our dumb asses tomorrow night.” Harry said louder than he meant to and then when I stirred a little though not waking up he hummed a little of the song from before.

“Just behave now, would you? At least until tomorrow night?” they all nodded at him.

“Sorry little las.” Louis whispered to me even though I was asleep. The other boys all left the bus quietly, promising to behave themselves and not cause any more stress for me. Eventually, even though it was early we didn't have to get up tomorrow Harry decided that my sleep just looked so comfortable he might try it himself. He pulled me closer to him and placed his head on top of mine and within minutes the both of us were passed out in the parking lot of the biggest venue we had ever been to. But it was still just the same old us, asleep on the same old bus, the only difference being a bit of a headache.

[reallca-blog]

Unwrapping the Wonka Bar: The Leftovers Vol.1 - The “Woman in Shop” Theory (and a Birthday Celebration!)

Greetings readers,

This side series builds off my work from the main Unwrapping the Wonka Bar series, basically, whenever something gets cut from a post of the main series but I still feel it has some value, I post it here as a Leftover for you all to enjoy. And to commemorate an important date for us in the CATCF fandom, I give you all this Leftover!

Now, this post has nothing to do with the original question of where Charlie’s town could be located, but while conducting the last analysis, I resurfaced this thought that I have had rattling around in the back of my mind for a couple of years now and I thought I would finally share this with all of you. While the actress who plays the “Woman in Shop” is named and has amassed a small list of credits over the years, I am here to propose that “Deborah Weston” is not a real person. In fact, I am here to propose that the “Woman in Shop” is being played by none other than our very own Dr. Julia Winter, because don’t you tell me that they don’t have the same creepy, high-cheekboned smile.

Bear with me here, my theory of the case goes that at some point in the 2040s, Doctor Winter grows tired of giving prostate exams and having to check if a patient’s particular bodily fluid should be that color and one day just says eff this and begins to regret forgoing acting to become a doctor. Her midlife crisis drives her to purchase one of the new Tesla Time Machine that Elon Musk just released, you know, right after he finished reducing Twitter to nothing but ashes for the seventh time just that month, and she time travels back to 2004 where she manages to sneak back onto the set of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory at Pinewood Studios in order to relive her glory days as an actor. It is then that one of the crewmembers confuses her for one of the extras needed for an upcoming scene, the one where Charlie finds his Golden Ticket and gets harassed by adults into selling it to them. While this might have been the moment where others might have cracked under pressure for getting caught and admitted to being an imposter, Doctor Winter, always quick on her feet, quickly unpacked her acting skills she kept stored away in the corner of her mind since she was a teenager and quickly commits to her new role with pride. Even going so far as to play the role with a North American Accent, while also not doing the totally smug European thing where their North American Accent is just an impersonation of a Texan or a southern hillbilly, but instead made her character sound like a normal person one might find somewhere in Anglo-North America.

She of course plays her part well, overwhelming poor little Charlie into staying frozen in between two vultures until Bill the Shopkeeper has to shame the adults and tell the lucky winner to run straight home with his prize and is praised by her fellow scene members as soon as the camera stops rolling. Now, while this praise was a great change of pace from the thankless infected scab treatment and other duties a doctor must attend to, acting did not offer Doctor Winter the sense of purpose that she hoped to find once again. But that was until she looked off to the corner and spotted a young girl practicing her lines yet struggling to remember them. And so she approached the young girl in order to help her and in the spirit of an afterschool special, it turns out young girl was her eleven-year-old self. It all came back to her now, performing on screen for the first time as stressful for her, but Doctor Winter bucked up and imparted some cliché wisdom about perseverance onto her younger self. It was only until she saw the confidence in her younger as she quickly scurried off to the stylist's trailers so that they could doll her up to play the little brute that Doctor Winter remembered why she became a doctor, her true calling is to help people. And with that sense of purpose restored, Doctor Winter returns to the 2040s where she can continue to offer the good people of Sweden some of that good, old-fashioned socialist healthcare.

Well...that's enough shitposting for one day.

But in all seriousness, I believe I speak for the entire CATCF fandom when I wish Dr. Julia Winter a Happy Thirtieth Birthday!

Happy.

Thirtieth.

Birthday.

Veruca Salt is thirty years old. (P.S.: Veruca Salt is actually 28 because her character is nine years old in the film. But still!)

I don't know how I feel about this. Is this what it's like to feel old?

That’s it for the first installment of Unwrapping the Wonka Bar: The Leftovers. Join us next time we post a quick little insight into Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Also, make sure to check out the original Unwrapping the Wonka Bar series and follow us to keep up to date for when we post updates and other content.

Also, if you have better quality images of the scenes from the film I included in this post, feel free to share them with me so that I may replace the ones I used to improve the experience for the reader.

See you all next time!

[duncanforbesfilm]

Directors Notes: Post-Production (Edit)

I got the footage to the films editor, Molly, the day after we wrapped. I met Molly and we had a big chat about the edit, we had discussed it briefly prior but I wanted to go through the footage with her and discuss the edit with the footage in front of us. We discussed a timeline for the edit at length. I left Molly to start transcoding. We agreed she would do a rough edit of all the scenes except the montage and then I would come into SAS to review. This took us to Easter. Unfortunately due to a miscommunication we thought that screen academy would be closed over Easter, and so didnt go in til Tuesday. It was tricky to arrange meetings, as Molly stays in Glasgow and was working on another film, so we had to find times where our schedules would cover. When I did see the rough draft, I was really happy with it as a draft. I felt that we needed more reactions from Mr Balloonhead Man, even if they werent saying anything. Molly disagreed with this, as she felt that since he had the same expression the reactions would not work. I argued that although he does not have a facial expression, the inclusion of a reaction shot, and the body language Lev and I worked hard to get right on set, would come across well. These are the reaction shots that made it into the final edit. After a few more meetings, we moved onto the montage. This was one part of the edit that Molly was unsure about, as they could not visualise it in their head. We worked together, and I explained what the purpose of the montage was (this overwhelming crescendo of stress that grows in intensity until we arrive at the hardware store) and after some trial and error Molly created an edit I was really happy with. The film was coming together, and I was hoping to show it to some lecturers for feedback, but Molly informed me that she was not going to be able to come back to SAS to work on the edit for much longer, as she was getting busy with other work. This was frustrating as I wanted to get feedback from lecturers, but in a learning experience, as I realised I should have asked for it sooner. With this new timeframe in mind, I had all the HODs come in and review the edit, they gave feedback and we made the changes we could with the time we had, before exporting the picture-lock and getting it to Alex for Sound Design and Gus for Grading. When the film was in Sound Design, a lecturer (Zoe) was able to watch the film and give feedback for sound and edit. This was about a week and a half before the film was due (the crit). This brought good and bad news. The good news was Zoe really liked the film and felt we'd created a really strong character and story. The bad news was she hated the ending and thought we should change it. The ending was with the balloon floating over Authurs seat (the hill of the final scene) and then the camera would pan to show Mr Balloonhead Man and Gary still sat on the bench. This was an ending that Fionntan had really advocated for during the writing process and in the early stages of editing, and I wanted to respect his story. Unfortunately, when fresh eyes watched it, it was just too confusing and as Zoe said 'took away from the real story'. I got in touch with Molly to ask about coming in to do a quick re-edit of the ending, but she said she was too busy to come through to Edinburgh before the crit. I talked to Gus and we came up with a solution that would try fix the ending. I pitched this to Molly but she was very unhappy with the solution and was frustrated with us wanting to change the edit after picture-lock. After a lot of back and forth, we came to a solution that she was 'happy' with and when she was in to do titles for the other film she was working on, she looked it over and said she liked it, which was a huge relief. That whole situation was stressful for me. I was torn between different roles of being a director. On one side, I wanted to respect my editors name and not make a change she was not happy with. On the other, I had a responsibility to do what was best for the film. Im happy that we were able to come to a compromise.

[pennzance]

Ghostbusters: Port Huron (Episode 25)

Episode 25: Possession is 9/10ths

November 3rd, 1998

Investigation report by Eric

Mr. Kaye finally got in touch with us. He’s with the General, getting us some help for what Bryan keeps calling a ‘cross rip’, which does not sound good. He advised us to chase down a few loose ends to maybe prevent the worst from happening, so today I’m off to find Stanley.

I’ve been trying to find him since we got back from Eloise, but he’s been difficult to track down. When I asked at the Edison Inn, they said he was on sabbatical. Something about violently lashing out at a co-worker. They were concerned that he was suffering some sort of psychotic break from the pressure of his job, but I’m here to tell you that MY job is SO much more stressful.

A man matching Stan’s description apparently turned up in Detroit going by the name Fred Ashton. Bryan’s got a theory that Stan is being possessed by the spirit of a dead con-man turned apocalypse cult leader. So that’s fun. I’m no expert of how to… unpossess? Is that a word? How to unpossess a person, so what I do when I FIND Stanley is going to be a lot of improvisation.

Still, knowing that Stan is probably wherever our missing PKE bomb has gone helps me to narrow down some spots to find him. Places where he can hide something that big without it raising attention, to start with. I visited every large garage and scrap yard in PoHo in the last day that I could find, but no sign of Stan or the mobile grid. It was an exhausting day, and it honestly felt like a bit of a waste of time.

I called the Edison Inn again to see if anyone there had heard something, but that wasn’t helpful. Stan didn’t have any family or any friends either that anyone seemed to know about. So that was another dead end. How the hell do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found and may not even be in the same county as you?

So today I drove the Ecto-908 with Jason down to Detroit to see if we could retrace his steps. We met up with Hullford at the Detroit branch, doing weirdly well after their manager vanished without a trace. According to the paperwork, Stan/Fred was driving a 1996 Red Peterbilt Sleeper Truck, the kind of semi-truck with the little apartment in the back. So, we just needed to find one of those hauling a laser containment grid and Stan would most likely be IN it. Cool.

We took the road back to Port Huron slow. Stan would be heading there, it’s where Fred Ashton was operating before his death. We just needed to spot the truck at a rest stop or something. Jason was even smart enough to suggest that he could have put the containment unit into a standard Semi trailer, one of the big boxy ones. I thought he was crazy because how would Stanley Richardson have the upper body strength necessary to pull that off, but he reminded me that possessed bodies have a habit of exhibiting superhuman strength.

Every red Peterbilt we saw between Port Huron and Detroit got a knock on the door and a quick look over by us. We even knocked a few blue ones just in case Stan had swapped the paint to lay low. When we got back to Port Huron, very late at night, I resolved to go out looking again tomorrow.

But sitting here writing the report, I don’t know. It feels like I should have better or more information. I mean, I can pinpoint WHEN Stanley got possessed, when the big horse monster flew into the Edison Inn ballroom. His whole mood and demeanor changed and in hindsight I should have been able to tell before he fled the scene. If I’d been more on the ball back then maybe I could have stopped this before it started.

Self-deprecation aside, There’s still the big problem of what we know versus what we don’t know, and we really don’t have any idea what we don’t know right now. Freddy Ashton/ Dr. Lyman/Amadeus Filch is a ghost that has possessed Stanley Richardson and hijacked a very volatile and full Laser Containment Grid for… what? The fabric of reality is wearing pretty thin under the Bluewater Bridge, at least that’s what Jeremy and Bryan tell me, but why? And what does that have to do with Captain Hatchet or the Huron Indians he slaughtered? Or this talisman we’ve been holding onto for months now?

Two managers go AWOL on Halloween while all of THAT is going on, and I’m not supposed to find that suspicious?

I’ve made mistakes on this job. A lot of them, honestly. And some of those mistakes have put a lot of lives in danger. But I am not about to let my hometown get wiped off the map or become ground zero for god knows what kind of apocalyptic cataclysm because of me.

I don’t know where all these trains are going to collide, but when they do whatever the resulting chaos creates is going to have to go through me before it wins. And I’m gonna kick its ass.

End of Report.

ADDITIONAL: According to the home office, positive energy or positively charged objects can help a person fight off possession. There’s apparently a way to convert slime into a medium for these positive energies and a thick coating of that should basically do the trick, with the side effect of making the possessed person in question just lovely to be around. I’ve started putting together a ‘Slime Blower’ based on the specifications I got faxed to me from the home office, with the warning that this is all still VERY experimental and not well understood, so to use the device and methods with the utmost caution. -Jeremy.

[madrigaljail]

K gonna do my responses to things I have a response to/opinion on under a read more because long post is long and I feel like having (silly) opinions so let's go!

- I don’t think camilo is an asshole who’s heartless and I hate content that portrays him as such

- pepa is not a bad parent because of one 5 second scene where camilo comforts her

BOTH! OF! THESE! Like I love sassy twerp Camilo and imperfect Pepa but there's more to them than that and they are not thee things! This is why I'm selective about my engagement with fandom XD

- julietas trauma is undermined a lot of the time and compared to her daughters

AND her siblings. As a kid she likely saw and heard about thing no child ever should - much like Bruno - and had the responsibility to make it all better. That has to haunt her, along with being parentified and having the perfectionism foisted on her (my headcanon). She's complex!

- comparing the characters trauma is weird

It's the oppression olympics all over again, I thought we were pat that.

- i don’t think isabela is crazy violent post movie and would hate to be seen that way

TBH I don't think she changes all that much; circumstances around her change and she has a lot more freedom and is more ready to speak her mind/behave how she likes, but the Senorita Perfecta act was not 100%...well, an act. She's a bit more chaotic but isn't going to suddenly be more dangerous than she already inherently was.

- I don’t like the take that bruno avoided the kids pre movie I actually think he would spend more time with them than the adults

Thiiiiiiis one I'm iffy on, partly because Jared said he'd been withdrawing for a long time before going into the walls but also because...idk, him having more connections makes him leaving worse (which I guess is the point). My main objections are fics which make like he was closer to her than her parents were because that's Gus and Juli slander and I personally won't stand for it XD

My personal view is he started retreating around the time Luisa was born and maybe connected more with the older girls and was maybe more in contact with them as time went on but Camilo and Mirabel he was much, much more hands-off. He didn't want to taint them, he wanted them to have a chance.

- I hate parentified mirabel. she’s 15 let her have fun she does not need to babysit people who are all older than her

If y'all can be "lol it's fine he's 15" with Camilo you HAVE to do the same with Mirabel, otherwise you need to examine a few things. she's a kid she'd allowed to be a kid please god let her have interests beyond ~becoming a part of the family~ the movie takes place over the mot STRESSFUL days of the Madrigals' lives I promise it was not like this all the time it was just a catalyst in this essay I will-

- isabela is smarter than she’s given credit for

Isabela can read a room better than anyone and thanks to years of practice can come up with the perfect thing to say to either smooth over or blow up a situation. She's a theater kid. She's clever. She's very quick-witted. She loves science. She was assigned Darwin in school (ok that's my headcanon).

- luisa is the most feminine out of the sisters but y’all discredit that because she has muscles even tho the movie has an entire song about how she wants to be seen as more than that.

I go back and forth on this; I feel like the song is implying she wishes she could just chill, ad yeah maybe for her that's unicorns and fluffiness, but I feel like she's also proud of her strength and physique. I know the two are not mutually exclusive but I feel like there's a middle ground and that's where I live.

- dolores can be fun

Dolores is a goddamn chaos troll just like both of her parent and ALSO a theater kid - they're all theater kid change my mind (you can't) and yes she can be silly and ridiculous.

- camilo is watered down to being just “crazy” but y’all ignore how caring and considerate he is too just cause he’s a teenage boy

He's a kooky mixed up kid but ultimately he's a Madrigal and a good boy. I'm extremely old and very cis so he didn't ring any bells for me but I'm not gonna reduce anyone in this family to a cliche.

- let mirabel say fuck

Heck, let her smoke (thanks @missilestorms )! I firmly believe everyone (except Antonio probably) was smoking in this moving when the camera was off them. I'm kidding. Don't smoke, kids, you Nana Seda doesn't because it's stinky and gross, but if this movie came out in the 80s or 90s....

Anyway, yeah, Mirabel can totally swear, she learned it from one of her friends.

- this one isn’t even a hot take anymore but none of the characters are perfect and that includes Bruno

I think I am the only person to have used the "Bruno Madrigal Needs A Slap/Bruno Madrigal Gets A Slap" tag combo but I stand by it. Bro is a dumbass (affectionate/derogatory)

- I think it takes a lot of time for isabela to fully embrace imperfection as we saw after wecid how fast she reverted back

Yeah, like I said above I don't think she's 100% Amazonian wild woman, there's shades of the facade she built in the person she is. It takes time for her to break from it fully, and longer to accept the parts of her that ARE perfect and pretty and effortless.

- isabela and mirabels relationship is mutually strained

1000%, mutual jealousy and mutual longing, and it's gonna take a while to heal that too. It can't be solved with a huuuuug.

- mirabel was just as ignorant as everyone else and I’m tired of y’all acting like she knew the whole time when she didn’t

Literally none of this was going to happen if not for the gift ceremony + proposal combo. People really, really downplay how stressy the timeframe of the movie was and treat it like this was how every day in Casita was like and while things were not perfect (lol) we saw it at its most extreme. It needed that catalyst for the plot to happen.

- pepa never hated bruno and y’all didn’t understand wdtab

Th wedding situation, for a while, was the FUNNIEST awkward family anecdote which was retold and reenacted every Christmas and on the wedding anniversary until Bruno went away. Then it was just painful. (Also it was all Felix's idea but that's again my headcanon)

- dolores never intended on ruining isabelas proposal she just heard a prophecy that everyone’s lives were gonna be ruined and was terrified

Justice for DOLORES goddamn this fandom is insane. Yes the proposal scene for me is the funniest in the movie but come on.

- mirabel has friends

And I need to develop them more, I've got this whole intricate circle of friends and enemies and acquaintances for the triplets; I need to come up with the kids of these people to interact with the grandkid.

- luisa is a grown woman who is capable of doing things for herself

And she's very level-headed and competent about it! Stilla nnoyed Jared didn't make her birthday May 1 (International Worker's Day), she'd have been an AMAZING Taurus.

- I think camilo was the most distant when bruno came back but after a while they became really close

They're itchy for a while but eventually game recognizes game.

- i don’t think pedro is given enough respect

LMAO a few days ago I tried making up a "Guzmans got the miracle' AU but it turned into a "Pedro Lives" AU and he just did a Mirabel speed-run of fixing the first generations' trauma in this essay I will-

I’m bored so here’s user jacarandaaaas hot takes rapid fire round

- I don’t think camilo is an asshole who’s heartless and I hate content that portrays him as such

- pepa is not a bad parent because of one 5 second scene where camilo comforts her

- julietas trauma is undermined a lot of the time and compared to her daughters

- comparing the characters trauma is weird

- i don’t think isabela is crazy violent post movie and would hate to be seen that way

- luisa is an introvert

- I don’t like the take that bruno avoided the kids pre movie I actually think he would spend more time with them than the adults

- I hate parentified mirabel. she’s 15 let her have fun she does not need to babysit people who are all older than her

- on another note yall undermine mirabel too much just because she has trauma but so does every other character. mirabel is not the only one who is traumatized and her trauma doesn’t make her any less capable than anyone else.

- isabela is smarter than she’s given credit for

- luisa is the most feminine out of the sisters but y’all discredit that because she has muscles even tho the movie has an entire song about how she wants to be seen as more than that.

- dolores can be fun

- camilo is watered down to being just “crazy” but y’all ignore how caring and considerate he is too just cause he’s a teenage boy

- let mirabel say fuck

- this one isn’t even a hot take anymore but none of the characters are perfect and that includes Bruno

- talking about bruno I hate when he’s shown to be completely incompetent at everything

- same with mirabel

- I think it takes a lot of time for isabela to fully embrace imperfection as we saw after wecid how fast she reverted back

- alma is not evil or villainous at all but people have a right to be upset at how she acted (the movie makes this a point she does say mean things) her actions are understandable not inexcusable

- going from one toxic dynamic to a different toxic dynamic doesn’t make it any less toxic (codependency)

- isabela and mirabels relationship is mutually strained

- luisa wasn’t a good sister just because she ignored mirabel instead of belittling her

- mirabel was just as ignorant as everyone else and I’m tired of y’all acting like she knew the whole time when she didn’t

- pepa never hated bruno and y’all didn’t understand wdtab

- LET MIRABEL BE FUN AND SILLY

- antonio wouldn’t abandon mirabel for his animals he already loved animals premovie anyways

- isabela is a huge softie and I hate how overlooked that aspect of her is

- luisa never hated isabela

- dolores never intended on ruining isabelas proposal she just heard a prophecy that everyone’s lives were gonna be ruined and was terrified

- mirabel has friends

- luisa is a grown woman who is capable of doing things for herself

- I think camilo was the most distant when bruno came back but after a while they became really close

- mirabel is brunos fav i mean come on she literally saved his life

- i don’t think pedro is given enough respect

uh yeah that’s all I have for now lmao

[poppadom0912]

Hi can you do 62 the reader has a 2 year old sister and Jay Halstead trite her like she is he’s

62 'Ladies love a guy who's good with kids'

Characters: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: Very slight mention of a minor, minor death.

*****

Today was just a normal day but then your babysitter never showed up and just when you were going to leave the house, she texted saying she was so sick to the point her mother took her to the ER. You replied with a short but quick message, whishing she got better soon and there was no fault on her behalf.

Due to that little mishap, you were now an hour late to work and had no choice but to bring your sister in with you.

Your baby sister, Riley, was only two years old and has seen the district but never been there with you for the entire day, only visiting on occasions when desperately needed; a police station was no place for a baby.

You had never known your dad and never planned on getting to know him, but your mom had been a constant staple in your life, so when she suddenly died after giving birth to your sister, it took a lot to get back on your feet, but you did.

At this point, you were more of a mother than a sister to Riley, easily being mistaken as such by strangers but even the two-year-old knew that you were her big sister, the best in her eyes.

"Remember, you gotta be good, okay?" You crouched down, pushing back her loose strands of hair behind her ear while she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Let's go!" You said encouragingly despite Riley already bursting to the seams in excitement since she knew she was getting to spend the entire day at work with her sister, something she never did.

Holding her little hand that clutched your two fingers, you walked her into the district that was bustling with life. The scene was nothing but ordinary for you but for a two-year-old, it was overwhelming so before anything drastic could happen, you quickly approached the front desk where 21st beloved Sergeant was standing, hands on her hips as her eyes zeroed in on you.

"Your late."

"I know, I know." You stressed, nodding your head down to the child besides you causing Trudy to lean over the desk, making eye contact with your kid sister who was staring up eagerly, her tiny hands waving at the older woman she recognised.

"Hi!" Riley waved at Trudy, smile brightening up the entire precinct and you bit back a smile at how fast Trudy changed up; Riley was one of her few weaknesses, everyone at Intelligence knowing Riley since the day she was born.

"She's with me today." You told the desk sergeant. "So, whenever we go out..." You trailed on, not mentioning leaving because as soon as Riley heard you were going to leave, she would become clingy and wouldn't want to let you go.

"I got her." Trudy nodded, waving her fingers at Riley as you thanked her, walking up the stairs as slow as Riley needed, her tiny legs only managing so much.

While her eyes were glued to her footing, you looked up as you entered the unit and smiled at the filled desks, everyone sitting around doing nothing but paperwork; it was a slow morning which was a good thing for you.

Before you could announce yourself, Riley squealed in delight, looking around the room and finding familiar faces that she grew to love in her two years of life.

Her squeal caught everyone's attention, heads snapping up in your direction, smiles painted immediately.

Her smiled was blinding, letting go of her tight grip of your hand as she waddled over to the approaching group; arms wide open for anyone to pick her up, first come, first serve.

"Ay! Little Miss Riley, look at you!" Adam pushed his way to the front, lifting her off her feet and into his arms as everyone circled around to fawn over her.

"Hey." You smiled, nodding at Jay before your attention was solely focused on your baby sister so he couldn't see the pink on your cheeks that you got from looking at him.

Jay reciprocated the exact same feelings you had for him but due to life, and that the two of you were cowards when it came to love, neither of you confessed and it would remain as such till further notice.

Taking notice of his wandering eyes, Hailey elbowed him causing him to jerk, looking at his partner incredulously. He rubbed the 'sore' spot and asked, "What was that for?"

"You were staring." She pointed out the obvious, his attempts of covering himself up falling on deaf ears.

Jay rolled his eyes, looking back at the scene before him, watching Riley babble in Kevin's arms as she 'explained' a story no one could interpret, the man nodding and replying with nothing but enthusiasm as though he completely understood.

His eyes unconsciously drifted over to you, and if it wasn't for the loud babbles of Riley, he would've continued to stare. By no means was he a stalker or unhealthily infatuated by you but he was enamoured and wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

"Pro tip." Hailey said under her breath so that only Jay could hear, taking noticed of his green eyes glued to your short figure.

"Ladies love a guy who's good with kids."

Jay snorted with a hint of disbelief but as the next few minutes flew by, watching how you were basically a helicopter mom to Riley and wouldn't let her do anything remotely dangerous, he was starting to believe she was right.

Future Jay would forever thank Hailey.