#its alright. he has more scotch

[mycatismyfriend]

BtVS - 4x09, "Something Blue", but it's just Giles struggling the entire episode.

[leonsdolly]

Wicked Game

Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon leaves you for her, and you're not sure what to do now.

CW: nsfw 18+, infidelity, angst, suicidal thoughts, comparing yourself to her, masturbation, mentions of p in v

WC: 1.5k

“What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…” You murmur along to the melancholy words that are floating around your room like butterflies. Actually, more like flies nearing the end of their life span - movement transitioning from an erratic flight to a lazy, almost purposeless dwindle until they’re on their backs with their legs sticking up in the air. That’s exactly how you are now that Leon’s done with you. A dead fly - no one could save me but you. Chris Isaak gets it. He gets it so well that he’s been looping for God knows how long.

Was it only last week that Leon left you for the ghost from his past? The one in red, haunting him in ways that you were oblivious to. Always bleeding red, like Bloody Mary or something. Maybe it was better if you’d feigned ignorance to the evidence. Maybe you’d still be able to call him yours if you played your role of a cross-eyed Mary jumping right into his arms with no protests, always playing it clean.

It was all because of a letter that was carefully tucked away in his desk drawer, folded and sealed with a kiss. No, literally a kiss. The bitch left her lipstick imprint in lieu of her signature. YSL, shade R1. You’d always been a Dior girl anyway. 

You swore up and down that you weren’t purposely snooping through his belongings, that you were just looking for Scotch tape. The offensive document shook in your hand as you fearfully inquired about its contents. He was stuttering and ashamed and apologetic and all the things a good man is when he’s sinned. He let you cry and scream and sink to your knees with your head in your hands like you were never going to come back up, like you could die in this position and be encased in marble. A new weeping angel.

You know in your heart that you could never equate to her in his eyes. The knowledge that he’s probably been comparing you to her throughout your relationship makes you so damn ill. Maybe you should slit your own throat in front of him and let the crimson flow over your body so you can match with her. Bleeding red all over the place, letting him see nothing but that cursed color, the way he did all those years ago in the city where it all started. The way he’d still continued to do so after meeting you and promising all sorts of things you weren’t accustomed to hearing. You suppose you can’t fault him completely, it wasn’t like he intended on hurting you; he’d tried to overcome his adversities and forge a new home for himself, one that was pink and frilly and covered him in glossy kisses after a long day at work. But ultimately, it wasn’t enough. His allegiance lay with first red, then white, then blue. 

You just miss him so damn much. You’re desperate enough for him that if he were to walk through the door right now, you’d take him back in a heartbeat. Sure, maybe you’d have difficulty meeting his eyes for a while, deep pools, murky with guilt and who knows what else. Your vision would be limited to the freckles on his neck, the ones resembling a vampire bite, but that’s alright with you. You’re familiar with the area, having kissed it so many times. You shouldn't be thinking about those little spots or anything else about him for that matter. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. With her. Pressed up against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. Oh God, now you're the one seeing red. Is there really such a thing as a red string tying two people together, keeping them bound for eternity? Hopefully not, because you're nauseous at the concept that it's always been her. She was right there beside his former bright eyed and bushy-tailed self, the version that had a vague understanding of how the world worked, before he was your solemn Leon. They trudged through the abyss together, leaning on one another for strength in the midst of a plague. You wish God would just deliver armies of locusts to devour you and him and her and the rest of the world. The end is here anyway now that he isn’t. 

Your last memory of him is that pitiful look in his eyes as he gazes at you one more time. You said I was your baby. He said a lot of things, promised you the world, and look how things turned out. It’s sickening really, how cruel fate can be. Was this fate? You’re going to tie their disgusting red string around your neck and squeeze until your head pops off like a rocket. A blazing glory, capable of stealing his attention.

The thoughts of needing to be better so that he’d be with you again swirls around in your brain, filling up your entire being until you can’t bear it any longer. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to put a ring on your finger and give you his babies and hold you close on your deathbed. Your hand twitches, muscle memory activated from all the times you slipped your hand into his, anchoring you to him. I’m so sorry… Ada and I… We’ve been through a lot together. You can’t take this anymore. But I love you more than anything in the whole world… How am I supposed to live without you? He never did give you a proper response to that, silence encompassing the air between you.

You shuffle to the bottom drawer of your dresser and fish out a wrinkled shirt that had been shoved towards the very back, away from prying eyes - navy blue with the letters “RPD” emblazoned in white across the front. You slip it on and inhale the fabric draped over your frame, protecting you, hugging you as you crawl back into your bed. His arms really were the loveliest place to be. Firm and gentle, wrapped around your torso like your very own bullet vest. Shielding you from horrors you would never have to experience, he’d make sure of that. Or at least he had, anyway. His lingering scent fills your senses like whispers in an abandoned chapel. Something familiar, a sense of comfort in your hollowed out state. It takes over your grief for a second, and when you shut your eyes tight, everything is alright again.

You yearn to hold onto this feeling, but it dissipates once your eyes open, and you're isolated yet again. Your bottom lip trembles as you squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, gripping onto the hem of his shirt. His arms are around you again, and the smell of him is welcomed. It elicits a natural response from your body, begging for his touch, forming a silent prayer to any divinity who will listen. Your thighs involuntarily part as you reminisce on the feeling of his face in between them, tongue lapping at everything you have to offer. Whimpers fall from your lips as your other hand travels down to slowly stroke your clit the way he used to do it. There’s my baby. You’re his baby, still so good for him. You rub your clit faster and faster as the hand that was clutching onto his shirt for dear life comes up to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples. 

You realize that tears have been running down your flushed cheeks as you grind down onto your fingers faster in an effort to chase your high. Just like that… Sweet baby, my sweet baby. 

He's probably fucking her at this exact moment. Cock buried miles deep inside her perfect cunt, perky tits bouncing at every thrust while she moans for him. You’re going to blow your brains out. What kind of sounds does she make when she’s getting the railing of a lifetime? Something more refined than your own little whines. Is she kissing those precious freckles on his neck, giving them all the attention they could ever ask for as he lets out his own delicious noises? You weep as you continue to rub your clit while slick leaks from your neglected pussy, begging for only him to fill it up.

You’re sobbing as you feel the release building up in your core, and you're bawling as you feel your pussy clamp around the ghost of his cock. You let out a cry of both pleasure and agony as you frantically cum all over your fingers. My perfect baby.

Shallow pants escape you as you simply lay motionless, eyes trained fixedly on the ceiling of your melancholy prison. You shakily bring your other hand up to wipe away the tears that have forged new paths for themselves on your cheeks and down to your pillowcase. I love you. You’ll always be my girl.

This world is only gonna break your heart. How are you supposed to live without him? Nobody loves no one. Chris Isaak needs to shut up.

[sky-kiss]

hello <3 I’ve been lurking around the raphael tag little niche and I see that a fairly popular concept is tav/durge duchess (love the concept love the energy, very big fan of it in your fic as well) and I was wondering, since raphael struggles with sort of minimising how much his mortal side is perceived in favour of appearing as much as possible as a devil with a capital D (see his celebratory paintings being all about his devil form), whether that by itself would be a peculiar choice to take a mortal as a consort. or if you think he sort of did the math and went well tav/durge is a very effective asset he can keep close and its sort of worth it take the loss of sort exposing himself to other archdevils being judgemental over it (especially since the hells seem very much like a only devils can sit at the grown up table lmao)

/Stares at you. Sighs. Sips scotch/

So, I see. You're finally here to kill me, anon.

Alright. Let's get into it. If we're being entirely honest, I do not believe that Raphael would offer Tav/Durge a place as his consort. I genuinely don't. Especially not directly after they've given him the Crown. I've done it a few times recently, mostly because it's the only place to conveniently put it. And it works for short-form posts.

But if we are talking about genuine Raphael, it's my opinion that he would not offer. He may be fond of you, but his version of fondness would translate more to like...how fond you are of a good dog, or a subcontractor who put in great work. You aren't equals. "Friends," but not equals. Raphael's interest in Tav/Durge stems from what they can provide him. Once he has the Crown, he sees himself as having succeeded. You might meet for drinks like he's promised, but he has no reason to continue the relationship.

However, there is something to be said for an adventurer's soul. And Tav/Durge would be a massive catch further down the line. By the endgame, the TadFools are a bunch of freaks if we're power scaling. They're only level 12, but the games mechanics and the psycho gear they acquire allows them to punch well above their weight class. With their stat blocks, their party of four could probably fight Zariel. And on that note, because of game mechanics, Raphael could probably take Zariel (based on her 5E statblock) in a cage match, even without the Crown. He'd at least make it close. That's how powerful the crew is by the end. So, they would be a crazy powerful asset to acquire.

To the point of offering them the role of consort: no. I don't think he'd do it. Not right after the Crown, at least. And it's something I wish I'd made clearer in my long fic. I'd clarify it in a rewrite. Raphael never actually offers Joi/Durge the role of consort. Haarlep moves for her to be in that role. Haarlep informs Mephistopheles that she's his new consort. Meph is the first one to actually state it and does this in front of Dispater to discredit his son. Raphael then plays along with it in order to build his influence with the succubi/incubi. It's self-preservation, power, and arrogance that motivates the decision, not affection.

So uh...yeah. Sorry. I don't....I don't think he'd take Tav/Durge as his consort. Maybe after he's had his assbeat for a while? And they crusade and prove themselves to be incredibly useful?

But we lie to ourselves for fiction. Sorry for the longpost.

[random-thot-generator]

Where the Love Light Gleams

A 'LOVE THY FRENEMY' HOLIDAY ONE-SHOT

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

-

Summary: Simon comes home for Christmas.

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, So. Much. Fluff., No use of Y/N

(Notes: Wrote this for @glitterypirateduck and her Christmas fic challenge. Merry Christmas, Ducky. Love you, my enabler! (((hugs)))

My inspiration was the song 'I'll Be Home for Christmas'. Thought it would be perfect for Ghost, since he has such a tragic association with Christmas Eve. Decided to give my favorite masked man a happy Christmas for a change. Oh, and there's a little musical accompaniment for the last scene in the fic. It's linked. It's how I imagined Fiona and Ned would sound when singing the song. Hope you all enjoy and happy holidays. May your love light always gleam.)

Word Count: 4.2K

[image via TENOR] [Skull Divider] [Mistletoe Divider] [Banners]

I'll be home for Christmas You can plan on me Please have snow and mistletoe And presents under the tree

Christmas Eve will find me Where the love light gleams I'll be home for Christmas If only in my dreams

— Kim Gannon and Walter Kent, 'I'll Be Home for Christmas'

-

Simon doesn't 'do' Christmas.

He's not told you why he doesn't celebrate the holiday, but it's something deep-rooted and painful, something he avoids speaking about or even acknowledging. You don't push; that's not the way to get Si to talk. You accept it as is and wait for it to come out in its own way, in its own time.

When you mention decorating for the holidays, he offers no comment. He usually likes to tease you about such things, seems to find it amusing how much you love decorating for each season and holiday, but Christmas is different. It pulls a dark shroud around him that leaves him brooding and quiet.

He doesn't gripe like he would when retrieving your boxed decorations from the attic, never utters a complaint when you ask him to help get the tree in its stand. Yet he doesn't linger once you begin to decorate it, instead taking himself off to the pub, returning hours later reeking of scotch.

When he announces a few days later that he's most likely going to be deployed over Christmas, you're not surprised; disappointed, yes, but not surprised. You don't ask if he volunteered for the assignment; you don't want to know.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters after giving you the news, then he takes himself off to his office and closes the door. You'd be more upset about it, but his apology is sincere, that invisible shroud hanging heavy on his shoulders and bowing his head.

When you follow him to the door a few days later to say your goodbyes, you hug him tight and whisper, "Going to miss you, Grumpy. I'll check in, alright? So, don't worry about me. Just... stay safe. Come home."

He clutches you to him, a ragged breath gusting past your ear. "Gonna miss you, too, doll."

You pull back and give him that crooked smile that makes his chest constrict. You watch him hitch up the duffel on his shoulder, adjust the mask on his face, then he nods to you and steps out the door. He gets about halfway down the walk before you call after him. He pauses, looks back.

"All my X's and O's, Grumpy."

He grunts, even though he feels like he's choking, his voice strained as he replies by rote, "Damn right, they're all mine."

You snort a laugh and shake your head.

He takes another moment to look at you, taking in the little smile on your face, leaning in his doorway, your arms crossed over your chest. You're dressed in one of his old hoodies and leggings, a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet, Christmas themed, of course. He burns the image into his brain before he turns and trudges through the gate, climbing into his truck and driving away without another backwards glance.

-

Simon spends two weeks on assignment but returns to base in plenty of time to go home for Christmas.

But he doesn't.

Simon surprises Price when he asks to be put on the duty roster over the holidays, the captain knowing that this would have been your first Christmas together as a couple, but he wisely refrains from commenting or asking questions. John knows why Simon doesn't celebrate Christmas; he had just been hoping that this year would be different for his lieutenant.

Simon doesn't call or text, too guilt-ridden to face you, but he reads each text you send, watches every video you share, his heart clenching every time you say his name and tell him you miss him. Because, Christ, he misses you, too. So bloody much.

It's two days before Christmas when Price stops by Simon's office and invites him out for a drink. The captain is leaving for Liverpool in the morning, yet he felt the need to give Simon this one last chance to change his mind about going home, hoping he can bring him 'round by getting him to talk about you. He knows Simon misses you, catches him looking at your photos on his phone, re-watching those videos you've sent, over and over again. The lad wants to go home to you, he's just too bloody stubborn to admit it.

They're strolling down the sidewalk to the King's Crown Pub in Hereford when something catches Simon's eye in a shop window, and Price suddenly finds himself walking alone. Stopping, he turns to see his lieutenant staring through the window, one gloved hand pressed to the glass. Curious, he retraces his steps to see what's captured the other man's attention. His brows climb up his forehead when he sees it's a collection of charm bracelets made of white-gold links, delicate little charms and colored beads dangling on display atop a dark green cloth of crushed velvet.

"Pretty," he comments, noting Simon's avid gaze.

"Look at tha' one charm," Simon murmurs, finger pointing. "It's a li'l stack o' books. See it?"

Price peers through the window, nodding, playing along. "They all got a theme, don't they? Like that one must be for a nurse, an' that one with the books is for a teacher. See the ruler and pencil? Even got a little apple," he says, pointing out the charm and chuckling.

It's a little white-gold apple set with the tiniest red gemstones. Simon's heart gives a flutter in his chest and his breath fogs the window as though it's just been punched out of his lungs. He remembers that you once told him that in literature, apples often symbolized knowledge.

But also love.

"Huh," Price grunts. "Says on the sign ya can choose the charms ya want. That's nice, innit? Makes it more personal."

That does it for Simon. He can see the shop is closed, but they're open tomorrow. If he gets there when they open, he can buy a bracelet and be on the road before lunch. It's a four-hour drive, but if all goes well, he should be home before you leave for the Christmas Eve party at the Dog. Hell, he might even go in for a few minutes, say hello to Ollie.

"Hey, Cap. I know it's late notice, but ya think I might—"

John grips Simon's shoulder, a pleased smile crinkling the corners of his blue eyes. "Say no more, lad. I'll take your name off the duty roster when we get back. Consider yourself on leave, effective tomorrow morning."

-

Simon returns to the jewelry shop as soon as it opens the next day, braving the horde of last-minute shoppers to purchase the bracelet. He spends nearly an hour going over all the different charms available, picking the ones that remind him most of you, but making sure to buy two apple charms, as well as a little skull charm that he couldn't resist.

The shop owner puts the bracelet in a slender, velvet box and wraps it in pretty foil paper, adding ribbons and a bow, before handing it over to him with a warm smile. Simon nods his thanks and tucks it safely inside his coat, heart beating faster as he makes his way back to his truck. He's nervous, he realizes, but that only makes his steps more determined. He's running a little late, but if he makes good time once he hits the M4, he should still get home before you leave for the party.

Once he's on the A417, he peers over at the diminutive gift in the passenger seat, and that nervous fluttering he's been feeling in his chest returns. He hopes you like the bracelet, hopes it makes you smile. He thinks you will like it, thinks you'll probably love it, in fact. He can't wait to put it on your wrist.

He's about an hour into the almost four-hour drive to Banfield when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, glances down to see your name, but doesn't answer, though he wants to. He had decided he was going to surprise you and answering would give him away. So, instead, he waits until he gets the voicemail alert, then hits the play button, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Si! Was thinking about you, so decided to check in. I've been baking all day, getting ready for the Christmas Eve party at the Dog. Fi and Ollie said to tell you hi. Margie and the Gillys send their best, too. Oh! Guess what? Ned and some of his mates are going to be playing at the party. Ollie said they're really good... Anyway, I guess that's it for now. I miss you, Si. Take care of yourself and come home safe, yeah? All my X's and O's, Grumpy. Bye."

Simon's hand is trembling when he pulls the phone away from his ear. "Damn right, they're all mine," he mutters softly. An overwhelming feeling wells up inside him, a feeling so intense it prickles and stings at the backs of his eyes. He huffs a shaky breath and presses play again.

"Hey, Si! Was thinking about you, so decided to check in..."

-

An accident on the M4 delays his arrival, so by the time Simon turns onto his street, it's well past dark and he's well past irritated, or at least he is until he sees his rowhouse come into view. He parks at the curb and sits there, peering through the foggy windscreen, his dark eyes reflecting the lights decorating the front of his home.

Warm yellow string lights twinkle in the cold night air, wound through the bushes and outlining the door and windows. There's a large wreath hanging on the door that's lit up as well, its jaunty red bow slightly fluttering in the wind. It's as pretty as a Christmas card.

Simon sighs out a long breath and it feels like a weight is being lifted off his shoulders as he continues to stare at his house. That's my home, he thinks, our home, and is caught off guard by the revelation, because of the way it makes him feel.

Through the sitting room window, he can just make out the blinking of more Christmas lights, though it appears that the rest of the house is dark. He huffs and shakes his head. He's always griping at you for leaving appliances plugged in or the lights on, but this time, he's glad you did. Grabbing your gift from the passenger seat, he tucks it back into his coat and exits the truck, duffel slung over his shoulder.

That warmth he's grown accustomed to feeling when he returns home now, once more engulfs him again as he makes his way up the walk to the front door. Though he knows you're not at home, that you've already left for the party, he can still feel your presence in the glow of the lights, welcoming him home.

His comes to a halt when he steps through the door. The first thing that hits him is the sweet scent of baked cookies, with hints of orange, pine and warm spices to round out the smell. When he closes the door behind him, sleighbells jingle on the door handle, making him snort out a soft laugh, before he turns to take in the rest of the house.

You've not gone crazy with the decorating, though he told you to do whatever you liked. There are potted poinsettias in the entry, a bit of greenery gracing the door and window frames, pinecones and candles with sprigs of holly arranged on the entrance table. You kept it low-key. For him.

Yet it's the Christmas tree that makes him wince in regret. He had avoided looking at it before leaving, and how sorry he is that he did.

The tree glows in the darkness, drawing him further into the room. You had kept it simple with the decorations for the tree as well. There are strings of stale popcorn and dried cranberries draped over the branches. Carved wooden ornaments and glass baubles, worn from years of loving use, are suspended on thin loops of ribbon. A delicate, filigreed gold star tops the twinkling boughs. He sighs, bumping a wooden nutcracker figure with his index finger.

And then he spots his ornament.

It's a half-skull made of clay, formed to mimic his mask, but with a Santa hat on it, 'Simon' etched into the cranium in your neat script. It's obviously hand-made, though done so with care and skill, and he wonders how long it took you to make it. He can picture you sitting at the island in the kitchen, tongue caught between your teeth as you molded and shaped the air-dry clay with your deft little fingers.

When he strokes his thumb over the skull, he can feel that there's something also carved into the back of the ornament. Turning it over, he sees you've carved 'Grumpy' into the clay, then beneath it, 'All my X's and O's', and he laughs.

"Damn right, they're all mine, doll," he says, laughing to himself.

And if his laugh sounds a little choked, a little watery, there's no one's there to hear it but him.

-

The Dog is bustling, the villagers all come down to the local for Ollie's Christmas Eve party. Dear old Ned and his lads are set up in the back corner, playing a lively rendition of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen', his long-suffering wife seated nearby, clapping along.

Ollie is behind the bar, resplendent in his Santa coat and hat, serving up pints of cider and winter ale, while Fiona and Margie supervise the tables laden with food. Pushing through the kitchen door, you side-step your boss with another tray of freshly baked sausage rolls, the smell of them drawing a drunken conga line into your wake.

"'Scuse me. Pardon," you repeat again and again as you wade through the crowd, tray held aloft.

Fiona takes the tray from you when you finally make your way over, placing it on the table before motioning you to join her off to the side. Placing an arm around your shoulders, she whispers, "Take a break, Dee. Ya've been runnin' yerself ragged since ya got here."

She's right. Staying busy keeps your mind occupied, distracts you from the lonely ache that's been plaguing you all day. You thought you had accepted Simon's absence, had resigned yourself to being alone for Christmas, but the feeling has only grown worse as the night's progressed. Still, you can't deny you're feeling a little frazzled, so you nod and pat her hand.

"Was planning on taking break, anyway. Just wanted to get those sausage rolls out first. This lot's eating them faster than I can make them."

Fi snorts a laugh. "Aye, so no need tryin' t'keep up with 'em. Go on, love. Get yerself a drink an' rest. Enjoy the party. Me an' Margie got it covered here."

You offer her a parting smile and head towards the bar, waving Ollie over as you squeeze in between two drunk blokes arguing about the proper ingredients for wassail.

"What can I get ya, sweetheart?" Ollie asks, leaning on the bar in front of you.

You were going to ask for cider, but what comes out of your mouth is, "Two fingers of Dewer's, please."

His eyes go soft and a little sad. "Sure, lass. Comin' right up."

You sigh, feeling like a lovesick eejit, pining after Simon when you know he'll be home in a few days. This is something that you need to get used to since this will no doubt be how you spend the rest of your Christmas holidays for the foreseeable future. In the grand scheme of things, this is nothing, really, less than nothing, so you need to just let it go. You'll be fine.

Ollie slides your drink over to you, watching as you take a sip and grimace. He'd laugh if it weren't so bloody heartbreaking. He can see you miss Simon like mad, and the old captain feels his palm itch with the need to box his greenie's damn ears. Sure, he understands why Simon doesn't celebrate Christmas, but you don't, and that's the rub of it. He should at least explain, help you understand.

"Ya doin' alright, love?"

You nod and plaster on a smile. "Yeah, just knackered after all that baking. I'll clean up in the back after my break."

Ollie waves you off. "Leave it. Ya've done enough. Go have a seat an' rest yer feet."

The room erupts in shouts and applause, distracting you both, as Ned and his band finish their song. Ale and cider go sloshing as several in the crowd lift their pints aloft in salute. There's a lull in the din as the band discusses what to play next, then Ned calls for Fiona to join them.

A genuine smile lights up your face when you see your bessie join Ned, the two of them whispering a moment before she nods then takes a calming breath. Not many know it, but Fiona sings like an angel, so this will be a rare treat for everyone.

The room grows quiet as Ned exchanges his fiddle for a guitar, then begins to pluck out the chords to 'I'll be home for Christmas'. The rest of the band sit back to give the pair center stage, letting the sound of the guitar resonate through the room as Ned begins to sing. When Fiona joins in, the room goes completely still.

"Christmas Eve will find me/ Where the love light gleams..."

And suddenly the tears are welling up, your chin wobbling, and you have to duck out of the room and down the hall into Ollie's office, before anyone sees you crying. You drop down into the chair in front of Ollie's desk, feeling so lonesome for Simon, you think your heart might break.

You're still sniffling, swiping at your face with the sleeve of your sweater when you hear the door open behind you, Ned and Fiona's harmonized voices filling the room.

"S-Sorry. Just needed a moment," you stammer out, peeking over your shoulder expecting to see Ollie or Margie standing in the doorway. Your breath hitches in your chest when you see Simon standing there, instead.

"Si?"

"Miss me, doll?"

A sob tears out of your throat as you launch yourself at him, his big arms wrapping around you and catching you up in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet. "Bloody hell, I've missed ya, love. Had to come back," he tells you, his voice muffled by your neck.

Your hands are grasping his head, kissing him over the mask before he growls and strips it off his face, tossing it aside as he steps forward and kicks the door shut behind him. He doesn't hesitate before carrying forward, setting you on the edge of Ollie's desk as he kisses you with all the yearning and longing he's been feeling since he walked out his door three weeks ago.

You're clinging to him, desperate to feel his hands on you, his lips on you, just needing to feel him. His thumbs wipe away the tears still streaming down your cheeks as he cradles your head in his hands. "Don't cry, doll. Please don't cry," he mumbles against your lips, his own voice sounding haggard.

You sniff, a watery little laugh escaping. "Can't help it. I'm just so happy you're home."

You feel his lips smiling against yours. "Me, too, love," he whispers, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away. "I... I got ya a present," he mutters, reaching inside his coat and removing the box. He hands it over, his dark gaze almost shy as he whispers, "Happy Christmas, doll."

Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take the gift with trembling fingers, eyes darting over it before snapping up to meet his. "Si, you didn't have to—"

"Christ," he huffs, a soft smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "Shut yer gob an' jus' open it, ya bloody brat," he murmurs, lowering his head to bump his brow against yours.

Your smile is giddy as you peer into his eyes and nod, tearing into the paper, catching your bottom lip between your teeth before opening the slender box. You gasp when you do.

"Oh, Si..." you breathe out, fingertips lightly tracing over the individual charms. "It's beautiful. It's... perfect!"

You're positively beaming when you throw your arms around his neck again, hugging him with all your might. He rumbles out a laugh, hugging you back just as tight. "'M glad ya like it, doll. Knew I had t'get it fer ya as soon as I saw it."

You sigh, pulling away to peer down at the bracelet again, overwhelmed. "The charms. They're all the things that I love," you say softly, beyond touched. There are tiny cooking utensils, a rolling pin and little cookpot. A little stack of books, a tea pot, a cute little bookworm. Tiny garden tools, flowers. The skull makes you giggle, brushing an affectionate finger over it as you smile. And the apples, two of them, one set in red gems, the other in green. "I love this so much, Si."

"Want me to help put it on yer wrist fer ya?"

You nod eagerly, handing the box back to him. "Please."

His fingers shake a bit as he takes the bracelet from the box and drapes it over your wrist, his big fingers fumbling a bit before he finally attaches the clasp. He takes your hand by your fingertips, arching your wrist to see how it looks on you, smiling. "Lookit tha'. Knew it would look good on ya."

Your smile is so wide, your cheeks ache, unable to take your eyes off of it. "I love it, Si," you whisper, your eyes drifting up to meet his. "I love it. And I love—"

A sharp rap sounds at the door, cutting you off, and Simon thinks he might kill whoever is on the other side. He growls, bumping his head against yours in frustration. You sniff a little laugh and peck his lips before calling out, "Just a sec." You stroke his stubbled jaw. "Best get your mask," you whisper to him.

He's adjusting it on his face when you go to open the door, not surprised to see Ollie standing out in the hallway. "Sorry, Ol. Didn't mean to commandeer your office."

Ollie glances over your shoulder with a shrewd eye. "'S fine. Jus' wanted t'check on the two o' ya." Translation: 'Just wanted to make sure the two of you aren't shagging in my office. Again.'

Simon scoffs, reading between the lines as well. "Don't worry, Ol. We're fine. Still fully clothed, as ya can see. Jus' wanted t'give Dee her present. in private."

"Uh-huh," he grunts, dubious. Yet when you hold your wrist out to show him your bracelet, a proud smile creeps over the older man's face as he admires Simon's gift. "It's lovely, Dee," he tells you, giving Simon an approving nod. "Ya did well, son. Good lad."

Simon's near bursting with pride when he walks you back out into the bar room, eyes smiling above his mask as friends and neighbors come up to welcome him home and wish him a happy Christmas. He doesn't think once about leaving.

As he sits in one of the booths, an arm around your shoulders, relishing the feel of your warmth against his side, he peers out over the pub, takes in all the faces that have become familiar to him, his neighbors and friends, and, yeah, his family. It warms him from the inside out, seeing everyone gathered together, eating and drinking and laughing, the whole scene set aglow by hundreds of twinkling lights.

He hears you sigh and glances down to see you admiring your bracelet again, your face glowing with an inner light that warms him through and heats his blood. It's the same light that sees him through the hard battles, that leads him out of the darkness when he's lost, that will always guide him home.

He pulls you tighter against him, burying his mask in your hair to breathe you in. He thinks about that song Fi and Ned were singing when he entered the pub, that one line replaying in his head.

'Christmas Eve will find me/ Where the love light gleams...'

And he finally understands what the term 'love light' really means, because you're glowing with it.

And so is he.

-

[jigensnacks]

okay okay hear me out

ima put this under a read more because i know there are people around who are generally uncomfortable with content relating to alcohol

but! I had a revelation about Jigen and his alcohol preferences.

Disclaimer, I am mildly tipsy as I am writing this. I may or may not get lost in my own thoughts, so please bear with me here, alright?

Content warnings: alcohol (of course), alcohol abuse, maybe more. I dunno at the moment.

Okay. Jigen's alcohol preferences.

At first I couldn't wrap my head around Jigen's appreciation of wine, like that guy's a borderline alcoholic with the way he drinks (which I extend into full-blown alcoholism in my writing, I'll get to this later on), he cannot possibly like wine, wine is weak, why would he even like the stuff?

I came at the issue from the point of view of someone who prefers liquor. Stuff like vodka, whiskey, borovička. You know, the heavy artillery. Poisons that dull the mind and destroy the liver.

But I've tried wine recently. Got the explanation of the ritual of wine-drinking.

And then it suddenly clicked.

Wine has its purpose in Jigen's toolkit of escapism. You have the cigarettes, a way to remind himself that he's not in danger, that he's out of the fight and just vibing, passing time, relaxing. Then there's scotch, the first-aid kit, when everything is too much and he's antsy and nervous and he needs to dull the edge. It's the painkiller, in a way. The glue to mend those invisible wounds, the cause and solution of all of world's problems.

And then there is wine.

It's not to be wielded like a sledgehamer known as liquor. Wine is a delicate tool, when liquor is too much, when he wants to relax, but he doesn't want to dull his senses too much. There aren't any demons to suffocate, he doesn't want to get drunk, his only intention is just to sit down, lean back, have a moment to himself.

To Jigen, wine is like classical music. It's not something to binge, but to immerse himself in, soak in it, have slow, ginger sips. Relish in the taste, the warmth. There's a reason the ancient Romans and Greeks had a god of wine.

Now, how does this tie to my 'Jigen is a barely functional alcoholic' headcanon?

It's the antithesis of liquor. Liquor is the main poison, Jigen pours it into himself to drown out the noise in his head, the lingering pains, to keep his limbs heavy and limp to keep himself from doing something worse. It's his salvation and his downfall, it frees the demons lurking in his mind, yet it keeps them docile, harmless. It allows his mind to swim along, face his fears, it frees his feelings... but it's also a pathway to destruction. With his thoughts and feelings freed comes a different danger - self-destruction. Liquor becomes not only the tool of healing, but one of destruction too. When a heist goes off the rails and they make it home, when the crushing weight of failure sets in and Lupin looks at him with a gaze full of apologies, that's when Jigen grabs his poison of choice and takes his anger out on himself. While Goemon subjects himself to gruelling training to make sure he doesn't fail again, Jigen instead drinks himself mute, lies on the ground staring emptily at the ceiling, reliving every past mistake. That's the start of the cycle, he falls into the drink, struggles to get out of it for months on end. Until his body starts showing the withdrawal symptoms when he's sobering up, the headaches, the feeling of a thousand ants marching all over his skin, the shadow people staring at him, the music plaing from the walls, the muffled conversations from other rooms that never happened, the way his hands shake...

Wine is a way for him to pace himself. His philosophy around wine is basically if someone drinks wine like liquor, there ain't no use hanging around them. Jigen doesn't want wine to become just another tool of thorough self-annihilation. Jigen sees wine as a way to regain control again. It's much weaker than liquor (if we ignore port wine, but I suspect he wouldn't like such wines), and, unlike the heavy artillery he relies on, wine has personality. While liquor is the path of scorched earth, wine is so much calmer. It has a soul, personality, it evolves like classical music. It has elaborate constructions, just swap the musical tones for taste ones.

He reaches for the wine when he doesn't want to fall into that horrible spiral.

Wine - along with food - marks the line between functionality and destruction.

Wine isn't something he can drink quickly. He tried, and found out it only makes him sick.

So he grabs a bottle of a four-year-old italian merlot. Pours himself a glass. Takes a sip. Feels the slight sourness at the back of his tongue. The woody tones playing at the rest of it. The sweetness at the very tip.

He stares down the beast. Sleeping, yet aware. And while he stays with the wine, it'll remain asleep.

I don't know where I was going with this. I blame the wine.

[forensicated]

What Goes Around

Set after part 6 of Conviction: Judgement Day (Series 25) of The Bill. I always sort of felt that Smithy would be more bothered about what he'd done to Devlin but the reboot/quick reshuffle and promotion had to take focus and they couldn't dwell on it too. Here, Smithy and Gina meet up and talk through what happened.

Characters: Smithy and Gina [with a side mention of a certain Jonathan Fox. Because he and Gina definitely reunited now she wasn't an officer. They did. Honest! Ahem.]

What Goes Around

"How did you do it?"

Gina raised her gaze from where she had been studying the label of the expensive bottle of scotch she was about to open. "How did I do it?" she repeated in a thoughtful tone. "How did I do it?" She fixed Smithy with an unwavering stare. "No. Even I haven't mastered the ability to read people's minds yet. How did I do what?"

"Be an Inspector." Smithy took the bottle from Gina's hand and unceremoniously pulled both the seal and cork stopper from it. "You did it for 15 years after all." He shrugged, pouring them both a large measure before he sank a good third of his in one go with barely a wince.

Gina's expression changed from vaguely amused to concerned, knowing whatever it was bothering her friend – it wasn't good. They'd been here many times over the years, both good and bad for each, but this was the first time since her departure from the station 9 months previously that Smithy had been quite so sullen for so long. Usually, he'd moan about his fellow Sergeant Callum Stone and pout for a few minutes before the drink would do its job and the topic change to let them catch up on how each other had been. Often Smithy would tease Gina for not yet starting her walk of the length of Great Britain despite her repeated claims she was going to start it 'soon'.

"Dale-?"

"Meadows' offered me the job." He said, swirling the amber liquid around his glass.

"Jack did?" Gina blinked, "But what about Rachel? And Heaton? Has something happened? Are they alright?"

"Heaton's been headhunted to set up a specialist human trafficking unit. Took Rachel, Kezia and Stuart Turner with him. They all left the same day."

"Bet he's popular," Gina smirked into her glass before taking a sip. "So Jack-?"

"He's the new Super. Heaton put a word in for him." Smithy explained. "He's offered me the Inspector position."

"I'd say congratulations but you don't exactly look as though you're jumping for joy, darlin'." Smithy's hunched body language told her he hadn't yet drunk nearly enough scotch for her to get him to open up. "Jack Meadows is Superintendent again? Only took him 17 years to get back to where he was. Typically it's all of 3 years before he hits retirement." She said, changing tact. "Did you take him up on his offer?" she asked.

Smithy nodded and topped up the glasses. The alcohol, the quiet warmth of Gina's house and the comfort of his closest friend being present after everything that had happened was starting its usual magic. He'd gone to Gina because he knew he could trust her no matter what he'd done. Telling her however was a whole other matter.

He began asking if she'd heard of Matthew Devlin or his son Jason. When she hadn't, he explained that they'd only moved down to London from 'Up North' a couple of years ago and until recently neither been in trouble with the police. "The son, Jason, he's a real psychopath. Went from laughing to kicking a man unconscious in minutes simply because his girlfriend hugged the bloke and kissed him on the cheek when he'd told her he was about to become a father." Smithy took another sip before continuing. "They had houses that were essentially slums and illegal HMOs. They were crammed full of mostly illegal immigrants." He sighed, his mood dipping even further at the memory. "The state of those houses, you should have seen them. There were like 8 or 10 people living, eating, sleeping in one room, repeated in every room of the house."

Gina sighed and gently rubbed his back for comfort, letting him get the emotions he'd bottled up out without her interrupting him and taking him off track. She knew he didn't want sympathy – he wanted to be heard and to tell her something that was obviously troubling him.

Smithy paused only to take another gulp from his glass. "The smell was something else, the fire escapes boarded up with stuff in the way and the fire alarms themselves disabled. The electrics were bare wires – if they worked full stop! There were so many kids in there, you couldn't move for fear of standing on someone. Course they were charging impossible rents for every person." he scoffed. "Claimed they knew nothing about it, that the 'legal' tenants must have "invited their families. The Devlin's got all of a smack on the wrist and a fine for breaching housing violations whilst the tenants got visits from immigration and threats of being sent straight back to whatever horrors they escaped from."

He went quiet for a good couple of minutes, staring miserably into his glass, his knuckles white from the tightness of his grip. Gina stayed quiet, knowing he needed to work through his anger before it came too much for him – little knowing that that was exactly what had already happened. "Turns out they were trafficking them over too. Packing them into crates and loading the lorries in such ways that it was dangerous for customs to investigate further. It's a wonder they even got to Sun Hill from Afghanistan in the first place without anything happening to the people in the back. One of the lorries stopped suddenly where me and Ben were patrolling. The driver took one look at the uniforms and legged it." He finally lifted his gaze, Gina alarmed to see his eyes were red and watering. "The noise, Gina...” He swallowed shakily, it obvious that it had been haunting him.

Gina sighed and moved her hand so her arm was more around him and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure you did everything that you could. Knowing you, you went above and beyond as always."

Smithy took a deep breath in and sniffed back tears before continuing. "Jala, she's only just 11. She had to watch her father die in front of her whilst she was trapped. She was right next to another man who didn't make it. I had to tell her that her father had died. She's now an orphan. The only family she's got left here is her aunt. I could only get her out, I couldn't save him. He was-"

"It's OK." Gina soothed and slid her other arm around Smithy, letting her head rest against his in comfort as he fought to regain his composure. "You did your best," She soothed. "No one could have asked any more of you."

"Couldn't they?" Gina felt Smithy's shoulders rise under her arm in defense, the action telling her he hadn't yet told her everything that was bothering him.

"You're one of the best coppers I know." She said softly, still holding him so he didn't feel any pressure from eye contact and try to repress everything again without getting it off his chest. "Stupidly brave. Loyal to a fault. Calm under serious levels of pressure that other-" She trailed off at hearing a loud snort of derision come from Smithy and moved her hand from his shoulder to his chin. "What did you do?" She asked, lifting his chin though his gaze remained on the floor, unable to meet hers. Gina sighed, realising that he wasn't upset just at the situation, he was deeply ashamed of something.

"Jason Devlin." He said very quietly, his voice was almost a growl. "He had stolen jewellery in his boot that his associate had removed from those they trafficked over just 'cos they could. He caused a riot on the White Gate estate by forcibly evicting illegal immigrants as part of some stupid big show that he was 'playing by the rules in front of the police." He scoffed. "The residents tooled up and went after him and his goons. We had to remove him from the estate to calm the riot down and try and regain control. Stevie took him to his car after they mobbed the panda they were in to lynch him. She saw the bag and tried to look at it... he kicked her until she was unconscious."

"Oh, Smithy." Gina sighed, closing her eyes briefly, not needing him to spell out what he'd done. "You found her? Is she alright?"

Smithy nodded, turning his head from Gina's hand and sinking the remainder in his glass before speaking. "It was like an out-of-body experience. I just... lost it. I saw her on the ground out cold and went for him before I could do anything else." He swallowed hard, a tear tracing its way down his cheek. "Stone found me. He er, he... checked on Devlin and I er...." he downed another large gulp of his drink. "I checked Stevie and he... he called for ambulances and then the inspector came and Callum took over. Said we found them both and did first aid. He covered up for me, let the bosses think it was a disgruntled tenant that attacked him." He licked his dry lips. "They still do. He's been through court. I perjured myself. I could feel him staring at me from across the courtroom. Knowing every word was a lie."

Gina shook her head, "Knowing that he was responsible for at least two people's deaths just that month alone. Who knows if there have been any more they've 'disposed of' whilst they'd been doing it. Knowing they are ripping off some of the most vulnerable people and their families several times over for a so-called better life only to keep bleeding them dry when they got them here as a captive market." Unlike Smithy's, Gina's tone was calm and measured. "To subject them to God knows what because they have no one else they can tell as they fear being sent back by the authorities or their families being harmed if they did speak out. They have nothing, they're abused, vulnerable and stuck in a circle of giving every last penny they do receive or earn to The Devlin's and his ilk for this 'better life' that just doesn't happen."

She turned his head again. This time Smithy raised his gaze slightly but wouldn't look at her still, unable to meet her gaze for fear of seeing her be disappointed in him. "Whilst I don't condone what you did, I'm not going to punish you for it like you seem to want me to. Smithy, you're not just Sergeant Smith, a robotic android like police officer. You're human. You have emotions and feelings just like everyone else – even me." She paused, Smithy giving her a sad smile in response to her small joke. "Everyone has a breaking point and let's face it, you'd been through an entire roller coaster of emotions in a few short weeks caused by the actions of two toerags. Devlin's not some innocent mixed up in something out of his depth. He actively set out to break the law, to harm and hoodwink some of the most vulnerable people in the world. I'm not going to lose any sleep over him getting a taste of his own medicine and neither should you."

"I broke the law, Gina!" Smithy swallowed, "I assaulted him! I covered it up!"

"You did." she nodded. "But what part of you beating yourself up forever will make that have not happened? What part of you handing yourself in, losing your job, causing a mistrial, having Devlin freed and you potentially inside serves the Jala's of the world? Her, her aunt, her father... the real victims? You're a million times more useful to them and every other victim of crime that you come across where you are now, doing the job you've dedicated yourself to. Besides, if he got a chance he'd have done the same – if not worse – to you. This changes nothing."

Smithy swallowed and finally raised his gaze to meet Gina's. "So why do I feel like I'm a fraud? Why doesn't it feel like I deserve a promotion? Deserve to still have my job even?"

"Because you're a good man as well as a good officer," Gina said gently. "You know you did wrong and you know that the consequence of that is punishment. But Smithy, you've already punished yourself for what happened. Devlin is where he needs to be. He'd still be locked up for what he did either way whether this had happened or not. You just need to come to terms and accept that it did happen and draw a line under it. It's over. You'll be paying your penance through just doing your job and looking after everyone else but yourself." she said with a wry smile – one which Smithy mirrored in response. "Anyway; now you're on Inspector's wages, you can finally start bringing the scotch if you're going to make me listen to you being an old woman each time."

"Charming!" Smithy poured them both another drink and clinked his glass against Gina's in both cheers and thanks. "I'll remember that next time you're moaning about something Fantastic Mr Fox did or didn't do because you didn't tell him what you really meant." He smirked slightly before looking almost 'innocent'. "How is Jonathan by the way?

[dreaminghour]

Hayden/Ewan RPF - Prompt: List

Event: @domaystic Fandom: Star Wars RPF Rating: General audiences Prompt: 03 List Ship: Hayden/Ewan Context: References to real people are used fictiously. Words: 865

Hayden rounded the curve of the drive to find the garage door was already open, music playing from a beat up little radio, Ewan standing with hands on his hips and squinting at him.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," he said, crossing toward him before he had even gotten out of the car, slapping him on the back as he hugged him. "Figured out the address after all, huh?"

"Well, I mean." Hayden shrugged but couldn't keep himself from grinning. "Turn about is fair play, right?"

"Is it?" Ewan said, a kind of faux lightness to his tone. "Can I get you something to drink? A coke or a water?"

"Nah, not right now. What're you working on?"

"Nothing at the moment," Ewan said, "just finished changing the oil and was cleaning up."

"Don't let me keep you."

So Hayden leaned against a bit of workbench that wasn't currently strewn with tools and things, sipping the cold pop he'd been handed while Ewan ran commentary on the machine he'd been servicing. Hayden hoped he sounded appropriately appreciative.

"So, to what do I owe the honor?" Ewan asked, finally washing his hands at the sink with pumice soap, scrubbing at the lines of grease under his nails. "I don't suppose you're finally doing a bit of housewarming as well?"

"Haven't you been here years now?"

"Yeah, but its the first time you're here, isn't it?"

"A gift for the unsuspecting host." Hayden just rolled his eyes. "No I, er, don't have a gift, but I have this."

He pulled out the notebook he'd stuffed in his back pocket and flipped open to the bookmarked page for Ewan to read once he'd finished wiping his hands. He opened his mouth as he began reading, but then paused, glancing up at Hayden.

"What is this?"

"You tell me," Hayden said with a shrug, keeping his expression mild.

"'Excuses Ewan Has Used to Drop By,'" Ewan began reading. "'Number one, housewarming gift.' You know as well as I do that barbeque tongs go missing, its always good to have tools. Even if you'd already had some, I assumed it would be… Yeah yeah."

At Hayden's look, leaning back once more, crossing his arms, Ewan resumed reading.

"'Number two, had to regift a bottle of whiskey.' You know I don't drink!" He sounded outraged but he was grinning. "And that was a 40 year old single malt scotch, not just any bottle of whiskey! I knew that you'd appreciate it, or if not, I could rest easy that someone I liked was drinking it in their coke."

Hayden covered his smile with a hand but just gestured with his eyebrows as Ewan went on.

"'Number three, wanted to show me his new bike.' Alright." Ewan snapped the notebook shut and shoved it against Hayden's chest. "I'm not reading anymore. If a man can't drive his bike into the hills and visit a friend as he passes by, then…"

"But were you?" Hayden asked, laying the book aside, amused that Ewan was apparently getting a little heated, even if it was all in good fun.

"Was I what?"

"Just passing by? Because you told me you got a new bike, a Moto Guzzi or something."

All the visits over the last two months still remained pretty clear in Hayden's mind, so clear that he'd written them down in an attempt to figure out why Ewan would drop by, chat for a few minutes and then leave again.

It hadn't been a remarkable day in any other way. It had been hazy and gray. Surprisingly cool. Hayden had gotten in only a couple hours before and was looking forward to curling up in front of the fire with a book when he'd heard the motorcycle coming up the hill. He'd met Ewan in his leathers at the door, in his socks on the pavement while Ewan had guzzled cool water, long hair falling into his face, helmet tucked under one arm.

"What're you doing here?" Hayden had asked at some point.

"Just out for a test drive," he'd said, turning to grin at the spotless machine, as though it were able to enjoy the compliments he was about to bestow upon it. "Thought I'd show her off."

"She is something," Hayden had said, because it really was a nice bike.

"Not new," Ewan said now, turning to look at the bike in question. "Just wanted to make sure everything was working correctly."

"So you drove for an hour. To see me."

"Is that so bad?" Ewan asked, cracking open his own drink.

"It isn't, if that's what you called it. I just don't understand why you can't just say you want to see me. Instead of coming up with a dozen different excuses to drive over. We could have met somewhere, or I could have come over. I just don't know what you wanted to achieve. If you wanted to see me."

"You're here now, aren't you?" Ewan asked, raising his eyebrows. "So it worked, didn't it?"

Hayden scoffed.

"Yeah, alright. You don't have to be smug about it."

"Never crossed my mind," Ewan said, still wearing that shit eating grin.

[storiesofsvu]

Alright, happy Thursday hoes, lets get to this.

Mothership first

Okay… interesting open…

Omg…how many times are they gonna use the trope of “don’t touch that!” “who the hell are you?” surprise it’s the new laywer…

Not surprised its another old white dude, but at least he’s not as old as mccoy

Okay seriously…. If they get rid of Samantha I will not be watching this show anymore..

I wonder if they’re going to bring this staff change up on svu too considering this guy is also now carisi’s boss… but the writers seem to have forgotten that these shows all exist together until they want to do a crossover.

If this was svu the ada would be storming into the squad room yelling at the detectives for making a mistake that’s gonna cost them their case. Why don’t we get to see that on mothership? I want more crossing over between departments, cops never show up in the gallery either, just to testify if they’re needed.

Oooo yesss that maroon suit. I see you ma’am!

Man they’re just right fucked with this case aren’t they?

This defence attorney is super crusty

How come these videos are coming up NOW and not before things went to trial??

This judges office is barba’s office. They really only have so many sets, hey? (also the continuity of that office on this show/universe drives me fucking insane).

My subtitles keep cutting in and out and that is also driving me insane

Toronto time.

Will I pay attention? Likely no

JESUS FUCK talk about a cold fucking opening wow.

Big surprise I stopped paying attention halfway through the ep. Like, it’s fully muted right now and I’m working on writing LOL

SVU time

BRUH is this maria stuff ive been seeing all over twitter legit?! I thought people were fucking clowning LOL

Olivia in uniform just fucking makes me so fucking weak every single time

Clearly the other captain hasn’t been in the field a lot if that was her immediate reaction to that crime scene

Okay… hear me out… olivia literally saved maria’s life and stayed on the phone with her ALL night. We all know she has a habit of taking in strays… there’s no doubt maria became a cop because of liv… maria would have reached out TO HER about her graduation, not the other way around…

Velasco getting actual screen time finally. I do have to say, im back on my Velasco bullshit…

LOL. I know it was unintentional but the harshness of velasco’s knock on the door killed me.

4 hours of law and order is too much. Im getting bored and this is the show I actually like. I think imma start skipping Toronto cause mothership does hit some days

If this girl has a good enough lawyer she could easily get off on an insanity type plea… tbh this episode would’ve been way better on criminal minds. That would’ve been bad ass.

This episode is almost over and we got absolutely NO closure on the maria thing AND we didn’t get to go to court. Im OVER this fucking show man lol

Liv being back in her bac nail polish era is bomb though

Fin doesn’t strike me as a scotch guy… this is weird..

Okay… liv is really not okay. Like this girl needs support, she needs proper and regular therapy, she needs a break from work. Go home and spend time with your son instead of drinking cheap wine alone in a bar? Also while we’re talking about drinking alone after work being all sad, can we touch on the fact that her mother was an alcoholic, and that was what *killed* her… this is incredibly worrisome and I doubt we’re ever going to touch on it/get it fleshed out like we should…

Okay we at least got some maria closure. Thank you.

OC time!

Jet *attempting* to control stabler, woof. At least someone’s trying loooll

This bitch is so dead

Part of me feels like its bullshit that se wouldn’t know any of this about her own brother, but also I never talk to my family so…. LOL.

Fuck he’s creepy as shit

There is NO WAY THAT TINY MAN IS THE SAME SIZE AS ELLIOT

The fact that it took THIS long for someone higher up to question his anger/trauma/etc affecting his job is wild.

THE BARTENDER IN ME IS FUCKING DYING. I had a PHYSICAL reaction to that conversation.

“you’ve never had a long island ice tea?!” “I don’t like ice tea it’s too bleh” guy promptly orders two to prove that theyre good? THERE IS NO ICED TEA IN LONG ISLANDS

Cragen’s really just gonna be in the last second of this episode isn’t he?

Everyone: proper ear pieces

Jet: nah. Air pod.

I really thought that stabler was gonna be missing for a like, a good chunk of time with no one knowing.

OHHHH right! The foil he found in the bathroom garbage and immediately licked… right… I forgot about that. Now the question is who it belongs to…..

[rosemaryblogs]

Excerpt From an Original Story I’ve Been Writing <3

Katya stumbled out of the taxi, slamming the door closed and causing the rickety thing to wobble. She ignored the irate hollering of the old trout, feverishly wiping her tears from her eyes to no avail, staining her white gloves black with her cheap mascara. She clutched her purse tightly, the Bruyére clutch Edith had given her on her 23rd birthday- though she quickly brushed any thought of the daft playwright aside. There was no use dwelling on what was out of her control.

Her heels clack on the cobblestone as she makes her way down the alleyway- away from the taxi. A torrent of rain begins to engulf her, drowning out her inner turmoil with the rapidly quickening ring of water on rock.

When Katya flings open the mottled oak door, she’s greeted with the bustling din of the bar and the smell of scotch and beer. The lights were dim yet warm, and the place was crowded despite its drab exterior. It reminded her of the pubs back in Murmansk, she decided, a welcome change compared to the upscale cantine’s in the wealthier parts of Paris.

“You sitting down or not?” Calls out a husky voice from behind the counter, snapping Katya out of her haze.

“What?” She murmurs in confusion, pausing before nodding her head lightly, “Oh, yes, of course- my apologies, sir.”

“No bother!” He laughs, cracking a grin as she sits down on a worn leather stool, passing a Bière Brune to the man beside her. He glances at her, noting her disheveled state, coffee brown hair matted from the rain, makeup running and patchy.

Katya glares at him, sighing before pulling out 20 francs and slapping them on the table, causing the peotssxrcple beside her to scoot further away from her.

He raises an eyebrow with drollery, amused by her impassioned disposition, sliding the coins back towards her with a lopsided smile.

“Your drinks are on me- what can I get you?” He inquires playfully, a a hand through his  dirty blonde hair.

“I don’t need your pity, you lowlife,” hisses Katya through gritted teeth, fixing him with an irritated scowl, “Just pass me a scotch, on the rocks.”

“Easy, doll,” He chides, still grinning stupidly as he turns to grab her scotch, “what’re you doing ‘round these parts anyways? You’re Angela Vissnau, right?”

“What gave it away?” She murmurs weakly, slouching, leaning her face on the heel of her hand as she watches him pour ice in her drink.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” He replies, though he sounds more jesting than annoyed. He slides her the scotch, looking at her expectedly, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Bad day,” she snaps bluntly, snatching the glass and downing it in one gulp, slamming it on the table and shooting him a wolfish grin, “Another. You’re paying, anyways.”

“Alright, alright,” He smirks- though he doesn’t push the subject any further, moving to make her another scotch, “you’re feisty for a model, Angela.”

She raises a warning brow at him, rolling her eyes, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Katya pauses, taking the second drink from him and downing it once again, humming to herself, before shooting him a passive glance,  “I didn’t catch your name.” 

“Didn’t throw it,” He murmurs, yelping when she throws an ice cube at him, “Jeez, you’re not like the magazines make you out to be, doll. I’m Brent, by the way- Brent Cerne.”

“Lowlife,” she mutters again, though there’s no fire behind her words, dabbing at her mascara with a wrinkled napkin.

He smiles at her, softer this time, and she can’t help but notice his dimples, the gentle way his eyes crinkle at their edges. She must not be thinking straight- it’s got to be the beer. There’s no way she’d let her mind drift there sober.

Brent interrupts her thoughts once again, reaching his hand to take her empty glass. 

Katya flinches away from his reach, shaking as she curls into herself, startling Brent as he tries to make sure she’s alright.

“Angela-“ He starts, trying to help, even though he has no clue how, “Are you-“

“Get away from me!” She yells, eyes wide with sheer terror, before going blank, her hands dropping from in front of her face to rest at her side, realizing where she is.

It was all in her head. Every time… She buries her head in her hands, her breathing shaky.

“I do something wrong?” Brent asks worriedly, his voice tentative- uncertain.

“No, no- it’s nothing,” Katya assures, still trembling, “It’s nothing. I must be delusional.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but decides he shouldn’t force her to say anything more.

They fall into an uncomfortable quiet, and Brent resumes making other people’s drinks, glancing at Katya and the growing pile of empty glasses in front of her every once in a while with concern.

Finally, getting tired of the silence as other customers begin to leave, Brent walks back over to Katya, “It’s getting late. D’you have a way to get home?”

“Home…” Katya whispers ruefully, tears pricking her eyes, “I must say… I don’t quite know where that would be anymore.”

“Oh,” He replies plainly, unsure what to do with her, “Well, bar closes in 5 minutes- you sure there’s nowhere you can go? Weren’t you with that upstart bourgeoise guy… what was his name again?”

“Mylan?” She supplies, tilting her head to the side, swinging her empty glass side to side between two perfectly manicured fingers, “Definitely not.”

“Oh,” He says again, pausing, caught of guard, “…you could stay here? If you have nowhere to go. I mean- there’s a guest room, I live in the loft alone anyways. Not sure it’s up to your standards though, doll.”

“Would you stop calling me that?” She grimaces, trying to push her memories of Andreí out of her head, “…and fine. Thank you, I suppose.”

“No problem,” He answers awkwardly, walking out from behind the counter to the door.

Brent flips the sign to say ‘we’re closed’, locking the door. He grabs a broom and dustpan from the corner of the bar, beginning to sweep up the debris from the day, glancing at Katya again, utterly befuddled by her entire existence. In no world should one of the most famous socialites in Paris be disheveled, drunk, and on the verge of tears at his pub in the middle of nowhere. That just wasn’t how things worked.

After he finishes cleaning up the bar, as well as he can, at the very least, he waltzes back behind the counter, leaning on it with exuberant theatrical flair that he most certainly does not feel at the moment.

“Alright, Angela, how should we do this?” He starts, stacking her glasses and putting them in the sink to wash later, “It’s late, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Whatever,” She grumbles, standing up, picking up her clutch and pulling her fur coat tighter around her shoulders, “I’m not that tired.”

Brent sighs, gesturing for her to follow him, “Come on, you can’t very well expect me to allow you to sleep on the floor- you’ve got to move at some point, you’re drunk.”

She glares at him, but follows him up the creaking old stairs, her face contorting into a repulsed expression at the decrepit stairwell, though she makes no comment on the state of the loft. Only a few years earlier, her living conditions weren’t so different, after all. Her mind flashes back to her cottage in Apatity for the third time in the night, and she stumbles slightly.

“You alright?” Brent asks, assuming Katya’s merely drunk.

“Fine,” she barks angrily, kicking at the birch  floorboards of the loft haphazardly.

He opens his mouth to argue, stopping himself again, deciding it pointless to try to fight with a drunk.

“Well, here you are,” he says sarcastically, gesturing to a small cot, barren save for a frayed burgundy blanket and a lumpy pillow with what Katya swears in mildew on it.

“Thanks,” she replies, with a polite nod of her head, her lips pursed not from the bed but rather the memories it brings up.

“I’ll… be around, if you need anything,” Brent assures nervously, turning to sleep at the other end of the cramped loft, slightly more furnished than her half- though not by much.

Katya nod her head again, settling onto the bed. She takes off her coat, folding it up neatly and setting it on the windowsill, looking out at the rain through the dense layers of cobwebs and dust. It’s peaceful, almost. Too peaceful.

She allows her eyes to close, listening to the light patter of rain, taking her back to her old life, back before everything went down. She lets her thoughts drift to the old coastal town, the simple provincial life. The thought makes her want to smile, cry, and scream all at once- but she finds that with time, it become more muddled that painful. 

Her eyes flutter open, and she wonders how much time has passed since she drifted off into her own world. Her eyes flit to Brent, hunched over on the other cot, face buried in a novel.

Katya sets down her clutch on the off kilter nightstand, walking over to Brent, glancing at the cover of the book he’s reading, going unnoticed.

“You read Bunin?” She asks suddenly, causing Brent to jump, snapping his head up to look at her.

“Oh, yes, you know his works?” Probes Brent with interest, scrutinizing her with a newfound fascination, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I’d have to be a fool not to have read his works,” Katya answers with a roll of her glittering blue eyes, more comfortable now- in her element- sitting down beside him, “The Gentleman From San Francisco is a favorite of mine. A truly introspective piece.”

“Interesting for someone in your circles to speak so highly of a novel that disproves the faith you place in wealth,” he says, not judgemental, yet not kind.

“I suppose,” she answers plainly, though her lips quirk upwards, “you’ve read it then?”

“Yes,” he concedes, setting down his copy of Dark Avenues and turning to face her, “I didn’t take you for the scholarly type.”

“I’m surprised you’d take me for anything, seeing as we’ve only just met,” Katya laughs wryly, looking into his warm brown eyes, observing how soft they look in the candlelight.

“Well, you’re the one who called me a lowlife after taking one glance at me,” he replies.

“Hm,” She murmurs, allowing for a comfortable silence before changing the subject, “Have you read any Pushkin?” In the back of her mind, she wonders if Edith knew Boris Godunov- she’s sure she would have.

“Certainly,” Replies Brent, grinning now as they find common ground, “Personally, though a bit out of character for my tastes, The Queen of Spades was beautifully written.”

“I agree!” Exclaims Katya, her cold mask cracking as she smiles a true smile, her expression melting into a gentler thing, soft yet agonized.

“Ah- have you read Pasternak? You seem like the type to like Doctor Zhivago,” Brent chimes in, moving ever so slightly closer to Katya- though she catches the motion.

“Oh… I haven’t,” she pauses, her tone a bit off as she bites her lip nervously, her mind still foggy from all the alcohol, “I would have…”

He tilts his head to the side, a bit put off by her sudden change in tone.

“It’s… never mind,” she mutters, shaking her head, “Ignore me.”

She lets her head drift onto his shoulder as he blows out the candle, drifting into darkness as sleep finally overtakes her.

[giantkillerjack]

"The Professor's Workshop"

An excerpt from my graphic novel script drafts, posted here without beta bc it motivates me to write. In this chapter, the protagonists David and Kuruk are being given a tour of Armadillo Island by its mayor.

"Just wait til you meet them!" RJ exclaims excitedly. "They're the mind of a generation - maybe two!" He now adds an additional spring to his step, and David has to jog to keep up with him, despite them both being very short men. Kuruk follows behind, looking deeply skeptical.

RJ leads them down a winding forested path to a more remote part of the village, continuing to talk about the island the whole time while occasionally asking friendly questions of his guests.

They arrive at a secluded building tucked away in the bright green foliage of the island. The building is made in the same unique colorful architectural style as the rest of the island, but it has an odd overall shape - as though it has seen many small additions and renovations over the years. Paint chips in a couple places, but otherwise it looks well-cared-for. Shiny metal vents and chimneys emerge from the roof and sides, gently emitting white smoke. A stone pathway leads from the sign to the door, nearly hidden in untamed tall grass.

Out front, a high-quality colorful carved wooden sign reads:

Doctor Professor Xosha Zapata, PhD

Chemist & Architect Extraordinaire

"The sign was a gift from me," RJ chirps, stopping for a moment to admire it.

"No kidding," David deadpans politely, obviously hiding a smile.

(Behind him, the side of Kuruk's mouth twitches upwards a little for just a moment.)

RJ is marches up the overgrown stone and knocks confidently on the door, which turns out to not be fully closed; it creaks open from his knocking.

RJ stands just outside of the doorway and shouts inside cheerfully, causing Kuruk to wince at the volume. "OH, PROFESSOR!!! Are you in, Professor? I've met the most lovely chaps and I'd love to introduce them to our island's premiere scientific mind!"

There is a distant muffled sound from within.

"... PROFESSOR?" RJ shouts again, looking slightly concerned, "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

An indistinct wobbly speech bubble comes from inside, ending in question marks.

RJ looks both worried and like a man on a mission. "WE'RE COMING IN TO CHECK ON YOU - ALRIGHT, PROFESSOR?" He shouts loud enough this time that David and Kuruk both wince.

RJ hustles in and our heroes follow hesitantly behind.

The small entryway opens into a large room with high ceiling. It appears to be a lab or a workshop of some kind. Skylight windows light the room with soft sunlight, and dust motes float in the air in the brightest of the rays of light.

In terms of the contents of the room, the place looks like if a cartoon professor somehow had even more ADHD than usual:

There are dozens of beakers and vials on a number of desks and tables. A few of the beakers sit on lit bunsen burners, bubbling with colorful substances and sending white smoke up into the vents above them. At least one beaker has bubbled over and created an unidentifiable burnt mass at its base.

There are multiple architectural drafting tables with designs and blueprints on them in various states of completion.

There are several chalkboards full of notes in messy handwriting.

Books, papers, notebooks cover nearly every flat surface and several of the non-flat ones. Many torn notebook pages have been taped to the walls. [I guess this fantasy world has an equivalent to scotch tape now. ... I'm fine with that.]

The only decorations are a cluster of very nice painting on a small section of the wall. (Readers looking very closely will notice they all have the same artist's signature - Epa, who runs the inn.)

There is nothing to suggest nefarious scientific activity. Real "absentminded professor" energy.

In the far corner of the room, a set of scaffolding and a ladder block off a small space.

"H-hello? RJ, is that you?" says a small speech bubble from behind the scaffolding.

"Aha!" RJ leaps in that direction impressively quickly for a tiny man in his 50s.

Before David and Kuruk catch up to him, they hear RJ's relieved and once again cheerful voice:

"Ah, professor! There you are, thank goodness!!! You had us worried for a moment there!"

"...'Us' ?" says the unknown person in a pinched voice.

David and Kuruk round the corner to see three things:

One: an incomplete 8-foot-tall architectural model of a building,

Two: a fallen ladder, and

Three: a very embarrassed-looking non-binary person whom they recognize as the amateur vigilante they last saw getting shoved into the town square fountain by Armadillo Woman. Ze is wearing overalls, safety goggles pushed up on zyr head, a white shirt with some almost neon-colored stains on it, and a safety harness.

Ze appears unharmed, but they are suspended in the air by a cord attached to the back of the harness, and they look exceedingly uncomfortable. Zyr feet are dangling high off the ground, and ze is slowly and involuntarily rotating in place.

"Oh." Ze says weakly at the sound of additional footsteps. "There's... more people to witness this. ...My lucky day." They look as though they'd rather melt away into the earth. As they speak, they continue to spin, and they miss their initial chance to look at David and Kuruk, not seeing their faces until spinning slowly back around.

RJ, however, continues with his introductions, gesturing grandly and earnestly. "Mister David, Mister Kuruk - please meet the esteemed Doctor-Professor Xosha Zapata! Professor, these are my new friends Kuruk and David! They're here for the festival!"

Behind RJ, Kuruk squints at being called RJ's "new friend." David just looks amused.

"Y-You can just call me Xosha actually I'm not really--"

Xosha stops as ze finally catches sight of David and Kuruk - zyr face somehow falls even further. "Ah. We've, uh, met, actually," they say with a pained smile.

RJ is delighted. "Really?!? Fantastic! You must tell me all about it! How you met, what everyone was wearing! Every detail!"

"Um, actually, do you think maybe somebody could get me down first, please?" Xosha says in a small voice.

RJ looks surprised to find Xosha still in the air; he presses his hand to his forehead. "Oh! Oh my! Of course of course - my apologies! - I just get so carried away! Gentlemen, would you assist me?"

David and Kuruk nod. Kuruk looks like he's questioning how his life has come to this.

"Tell us what to do, Professor!" RJ says with his hands on his hips.

What follows is a ridiculous comical sequence in which Xosha explains how this happened and the men help zyr get down.

Ze was standing on a tall ladder and working on the architectural model. The safety harness they're wearing supports their torso and pelvis, and it connects to a rope from a clever pulley system on the ceiling. The early light of dawn indicates that this was probably a few hours ago.

They lean too far to reach for something and lose their balance, kicking the ladder out from under them while simultaneously knocking the pulley controls out of their reach.

Their legs kick in the air as they tried to release themselves from the harness, but in their struggles they manage only to somehow tangle the straps of their overalls and cause a lot of discomfort.

The final flashback panel is a distant wide shot of the whole workshop with the lonely defeated figure of Xosha hanging comically from the harness in the background.

Per Xosha's direction, RJ and David find the pulley controls and begin to lower zyr down in stops and starts. The pulley system is not cooperating with them, and Xosha yelps in a mix of alarm and discomfort with each small drop. It looks very painful, and David winces in sympathy. RJ looks similarly apologetic.

After the first small drop, Kuruk moves quickly to stand under Xosha.

"I will catch you," he says, looking entirely unsure of himself, but ready nonetheless.

"Thank-- you," Xosha squeaks, "It's-- YAAHH--!!!"

They let out a final yelp as they drop the last few feet. Kuruk catches them from behind [either under the arms or by the harness] and slows their fall so they land safely on their feet. Kuruk continues to support them for a few seconds until they seem steady.

As soon as Kuruk lets go, however, Xosha whimpers and lowers zyrself to the ground in a comically pained ball. Evidently, hanging from a pelvis harness hurts one's crotch and hips like a motherfucker, and Xosha is too exhausted to pretend otherwise. They are still clearly embarrassed, but they seem to have accepted their humiliating fate.

RJ hurries over to help them take the harness off, crouching on the ground next to them and patting their shoulder consolingly. He asks them what happened, and he asks if they need help taking the harness off. Xosha accepts his help and explains, accompanied by 3-5 cartoony flashback panels:

In the flashback, ze is standing on a tall ladder and working on the architectural model. The safety harness they're wearing supports their torso and pelvis, and it connects to a rope from a clever pulley system on the ceiling that can be manually adjusted by the user. The early light of dawn indicates that this was probably a few hours ago.

Xosha leans too far to reach for something and loses their balance, kicking the ladder out from under them while simultaneously knocking the pulley controls out of their reach.

They are caught by the harness and the expression of pain on their face is ridiculous and exaggerated for humor.

Their legs kick in the air as they tried to release themselves from the harness, but in their struggles they manage only to somehow tangle the straps of their overalls and cause more discomfort.

The final flashback panel is a distant wide shot of the whole workshop - with the lonely defeated figure of Xosha gently swaying in the background.

In the present, Xosha buries their head in their hands and lets out a loud long groan; they lament how stupid their mistake was, and RJ reassures them that even geniuses make mistakes! Xosha insists that ze is not a genius. RJ declares that they are too modest. It is clear that this is not the first time they have had this conversation.

David takes in the absurdity of it all and he smiles at Kuruk across the room. Kuruk doesn't smile back, but he does meet David's gaze and there is a hint of a twinkle in his eye amongst his general bewilderment.

Finally, Xosha manages to get the harness off and sit in a chair, letting out a long sigh.

On the final page of the chapter, a large panel shows Xosha in a detailed, fully-rendered (shaded, inked, colored, etc.) shot with warm natural lighting. Ze looks up from their chair with an attempt at a smile that lands a little closer to a wince. The shot is framed to make them appear endearing in their awkwardness. They are both cute and anxious.

"So, uhh, I'm guessing you have some questions about yesterday?" ze says.

Below that panel, a banner with large font reads:

Tune in next time for Part 3, Chapter 7:

"The Professor."

[End.]

If you liked this and want to read the published scripts with concept art on AO3, you can do that! I get a comment on those like once every 3 months and every time it gives me serotonin for like 3 weeks tbh. If you don't mind an unusual reading format, then you can find sexy men tied up and rescued, gay sky pirates, budding friendships, autistic/ADHD friendship, so many Trans people, sexy fat characters, empowering disability representation, a group of actors who would fit right in with The Ember Island Players, a haunted mop, a magical trauma recovery library, a lesbian biker gang that robs imperialistic museums - AND SO MUCH MORE

Note to self: I think maybe I'll change Xosha's pronouns to they/them and zey/zem, instead of they/them and ze/zyr. Seems to fit better.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Franks Daughter in Hawkins pt 14

Gif Caption: Top Gif: Daredevil and The Punisher from Marvel Bottom Gif: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson from Netflix's Stranger Things

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Reader: 18-19 | female

Characters Mentioned: Im not doin it right now lmao I'll update it later when I go back and edit mistakes

A/n: I needed to get this out lmao,

Warnings: a HUGE amount of spelling mistakes, Neil's Existance, Mrs.Wheeler and her friends existance at the pool

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Yay...officially a midnight son now

But that means you can go home right?

Nope

Damn it

Stephen's intent on you doing a few missions with the Avengers to "get you battlefield ready" whatever the hell that means

"I don't have my vest."

"Don't worry about it."

Y/n turned around, "Matt!"

"Hey-" he smiled, Y/n pratically tackling him in a hug, "wow...you really must've missed me."

"You have no idea. I've been training none stop."

"No wonder you feel diffrent." He spoke hand on her arm, "Gettin some Muscle are we now?"

"She was completely jacked, to begin with." Hellstrom argued, a glass of scotch in hand then mumbled into his glass: "surely didn't help my pride..."

"What was that?" Y/n asked.

Hellstrom rolled his eyes drinking the glass in one go.

"I've got a surprise for you." Matt explained, "take me on a walk to my place?"

Y/n looked at Stephen, "she gets a few days off till her mission with Stark. Might as well as have fun."

"Alright!" Y/n cheered, "Matt! We should take my motorcycle!"

"I. Motorcycle?" Matt asked, "Where'd you get the money for a bike-"

"I built it from scratch with Rider." Y/n spoke, "come on!"

"Good luck with that one." Hellstrom spoke kicking his feet up.

"Get your feet off my table."

"Get your feet off my table- Ow! Fuckin cloak! That hurt!"

Matts terrified of you on a motorcycle

Like. He thinks your gonna crash

He feels over it to make sure you know. It has two wheels and is actually put together.

Okay..yeah it's good. He's good.

He's gripping you for dear life as you drive him throughout new york and to hell's kitchen.

But when you're serious and not messing with him he thinks your a pretty good driver.

"So. What am I here for?" Y/n asked, the two stepping into the apartment, he feeling along the wall.

"Well there's the newest Avenger-"

"oh great its you." Y/n spoke crossing her arms.

"Ouch." Stark mocked, "You know I was so sentimental about your suit and your just so mean."

Suit?

Tony Stark created a suit. For you

You're worried to open the box, you've been played multiple times by boxes

But when you open there it's a black suit ribcage and replacing what would of been flowers was the midnight sons brand

"Mostly Bullet proof." Tony informed.

"Mostly?"

"Bullet could still past through if strong enough and close enough. Important areas. You know where you get shot and bleed out the most are double layered, harder to pierce." Tony informed, "and this is for you."

Y/n looked at the mask he held in hand, "Be better that you wear something for the time being. Especially if you're gonna be rolling with us for a few missions."

Y/n nodded looking down at the mask that would cover most of her upper face, hand painted with what skull could be showing and devil horns matching Matt's, "yeah. Nice touch on the paint."

"The kid wouldn't give it any of it up until he finished painting it," Tony spoke.

"Peter?"

"On the dot."

"Now he's one more question. Why meet me at Matt's place?"

"Would you believe if I told you Strange has banned me from the sanctum?"

"Absolutely."

So you're going on missions now

Its nothing special, not to you atleast.

But You had to admit getting in the feild with Peter and Kate who snuck her way aboard was fun

The News papers had started to come out too.

The "Newest Avenger" spreading fast througout the country

"She's back!" Will shouted running down the basement stairs, "She's back!"

"Who's back?" Mike asked.

"Y/n! Y/n! She's back!"

Will slammed the news paper on the table.

"Woah! New Suit!" Max spoke.

"Total badass!" Lucas cheered.

"Who's she with?" Max asked quickly.

"The Avenger's! See! There she is with the Falcon!" Mike cheered "Oh she so cool!"

"You think this means she'll be back soon?" Will asked asked.

"Be back?" Eleven asked, "She will. Be back? Soon?"

"Hopefully!" Lucas cheered, "if she's back! Imagine all the bullies running! We should call her!"

"No!" Mike argued.

"She said she'll always have to call us." Will added, "She's clearly busy."

"You." Lucas started, "You think she forgot about us?"

"Y/n? No. No way." Max spoke, "look! Dustin's gonna be back in a few weeks and Im sure Y/n will follow right behind him."

"Yeah." Will added, "Y/n's a good person. She doesn't forget something like we went through together."

It was true, you didn't forget.

But others were starting to think so.

Billy Hargrove had become aggravated just seeing what he knew was you in the newspaper

Why?

Well. Because he saw you, on a newspaper, with some shit-head Avengers rather than drinking a beer with him by the pool

Plus he knew what you'd do seeing the way too old women looking at him the way they did.

You'd push them all in the pool, In the shallow end specifically

He had tried calling you, but no answer from you

Steve too had started to lose faith.

You had stopped sending him letters or postcards

Or anything for a matter of fact

Not a call, or a message left behind

He too saw the papers knowing it was you the moment he caught sight of the figure walking in the photo

You were sure he reread that article time and time again.

Newest Avenger? Did that mean you were staying longer?

No infact. It means you were going home quicker.

With the number of missions you handled yourself in and others, you were cleared by the Avengers and The Midnight sons.

Tony, once again. Threw the biggest fuckin party in existence and dedicated it to you: saying you had graduated college hiding your identity.

This one you had much more fun at.

Everyone congratulated you, wished you luck, and asked what was next in your now "adulting" life.

Most of the Midnight sons had shown up, Besides Frank of course and you all toasted together to the blackest suns of the earths years and you all chugged what you had in hand either it be a soda or a cup of gin

"Welcome to the shit show." Morbius congratulated.

"You did good kid." Hanniable praised, "you did good."

Y/n smiled, "Yeah lucky I didn't have to come and have a jab at her eh?" Steven teased.

"Oh please..." Blade mummbled into his glass taking in the drink.

"It's not every day we get a new Midnight Son." Jennifer praised with a smile, "You're probably the worst of us."

"One Soul worth a thousand damned!" Hellstrom shouted, glass raised in the air.

"And you wonder how I'm the normal one," Stephen mumbled to Johnny.

"You're not normal Strange. Its in your name." Jonny told.

So. Surprisingly, with the party out of swing at a decent time, you're leaving for Hawkins immediately.

Saying goodbye to the Midnight Sons thoroughly thanking them for everything.

Then the others

Matt's was a proud moment, he was still sad to see you go, but like he always did, he said he was proud of you

Kate, only looked at you, and started crying, you laughing as she hugged you tightly,

"You. Better call me!" She threatened.

"Alright kid." Clint spoke pulling her away.

"Call me!" She shouted

Bruce's was also family-like, he taking the favorite cousin spot on the list. Between your big appetites and talk for different realms.

Thor. Also cried, and Loki almost followed.

"Well..." Loki spoke, "You're...."

Y/n cocked up an eyebrow, "You're one in a few, few broad million,"

Y/n chuckled, "and You Are one in a universe."

"For you." He spoke, "I am not the best Wrapper...there is one for Max as well."

Y/n took the two wrapped items, "Thank you. I'm sure she'll love it."

He nodded, trying to avoid crying, "I'm gonna. I'm gonna go...find Thor."

And he walked off.

Leaving you there smiling and moving on to the rest of the group

Steve and Bucky were like brothers, unsure if they were older or Younger you had a tight bond with them.

And You and Sam, ah you loved being assholes to one another add Tony and you three were a real shit show.

Then there was Natasha, unsure if she was happy or sad to see you go. Happy for you. Sad for herself.

"You gonna wear a bikini with those scars?" Natasha asked.

"Maybe." Y/n told, "you should try it sometime. It looks cool."

She laughed, you both had your fair share of old scars.

Peter was next, handing you a box,

"Yeah. With all that Goin on in Hawkins, you'll need them." He explained, y/n opening the box, "Older model, but they work."

Y/n smiled, "I'll keep 'em on me then. Never know when you're gonna need to web up a demo dog."

He laughed, "Gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too."

You both hugged each other tight

And then there was Wanda who said she'd ride down with you, you saying one last goodbye to everyone with a solemn smile and left.

It was an awkward ride down. You and Wanda...didn't talk much for reasons.

She walked you to your bike, and you strapped your bag to the back, making sure it was tight.

"He'd be very proud of you."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Im sorry?"

"Of what your doing. Helping people." Y/n commented, "Pietro..."

She smiled weakly, "and he would hate to see you go. But he'd want you too."

Y/n nodded throwing a leg over her bike sitting in its seat, revving up the bike.

"Goodbye Y/n."

"See you later Wanda."

They smiled one last time at each other before Y/n drove off.

Hawkins, here you come

Again

You could have just portaled there, but riding seem way more fun, stopping for Gas occasionally and for a quick snack

It was a good 12-hour drive and you stopped to sleep once.

You hadn't told anyone you were coming home it was meant to be a surprise.

So when you pulled up to your home,

Frank had heard your bike and walked out with a pistol of all things.

"Is that for me?" Y/n asked, "I come to surprise you and you bring a gun-"

"God damn it." He spoke.

Y/n smiled, "What miss me-"

Before she could even finish her sentence he was down the stairs and hugging her. She smiled as she hugged him back. He kissed her long on her temple.

"It's good to have you back kid."

Y/n smiled, "It's good to be back."

You guys spent the rest of the day catching up, it was good to be back.

You told him as much as you loved New York, you don't think you'd miss it all that much

You had your dad here after all.

Frank made you your favorite for dinner as you both caught up.

Sitting down with him and having a good meal made your year

You told him about training, getting the litteral shit beat out of you

And you told him about Russo.

And he listened but didn't say anything

It felt better to let him know and to let your brother go

He surprisingly wasnt angry when he truly had every right to be angry

But it was always a touchy subject.

Which you changed almost immediately. Asked how he's been

He said he's been better, but it'll change now that you are back under the same roof.

You wholeheartedly agreed

And like usual, you two ended up playing a board game after dinner, like two of you hadn't even been apart for a day.

It was nice, just to settle back in and talk.

"Anyone else knows you're back?" Frank asked.

"No." Y/n responded, "Not yet. I was thinking tomorrow I'd go and say hi to everyone."

He nodded, "I still have the same schedule. I'll be out tomorrow."

Y/n smiled drinking some of her water, "Well then it seems we'll both be busy."

You both ended up falling asleep on the couch together, your head in his lap, and he had thrown a blanket over you.

You woke up the next day late, looking around for Frank just to see had left.

There was a plate of waffles on the table, cold, indicating you slept way longer than you had assumed.

Eating your cold waffles, took a shower for the day, get dressed, brushing your teeth.

You grabbed your brown leather jacket on the way out and were ready to go.

You wondered who's house to stop at first.

So. With...hope. you stopped at the Byer's house first.

Joyce was shocked when you took off the sunglasses.

"Hi Ms.Byers" y/n spoke.

"Wow." She spoke, Y/n laughing, "Would you look at you!"

Y/n smiled as Joyce hugged her, pulling her in, excited to see her again.

She had told you, that Jonathan was busy at work, and Will was at Mike's place.

But you were more than glad to sit and talk with her and talk over a cup of tea.

"How's it go?" Joyce asked, "how was it all?"

"Tiring." Y/n told, "But I'm glad to be back."

"Will will be so glad to hear you're back." Joyce told her, "You know they all have anything superhero related on their walls. Especially as of recent."

"The Avengers Missions." Y/n asked.

"Yep."

"Must've recognized the paint job." Y/n smiled, "I was on those missions."

"Wow! Look at you!" She praised, "Rollin with the big boys now?"

Y/n laughed, "yeah...it was somethin' else. Hanging out with all of them again. Just hope the next time any of you meet. It's for dinner and not to save the world."

Joyce smiled holding her hand, "I bet there all wonderful."

Y/n smiled, "yeah. They're all something else."

You talk with Joyce for about another hour. You'd be playing a lot of catch-ups today.

Yet with that hour gone, you said your goodbyes and went to go say Hello to others.

You took yourself to the Hargrove-Mayfield house next.

Walking up the small path you knocked, expecting Max or even Susan, you got Neil.

"Well...if it isn't Mr.Hargove." y/n chuckled taking the step up and taking her shades off.

"I did what you wanted." He argued.

"Hm." Y/n spoke, "Today's your lucky day. I'm in a good mood. Where's Billy?"

"Work."

"Work?" Y/n asked, "More details here Neil. I've been a very. Very busy little lady you see."

"The Pool."

"Hm." Y/n hummed, "and Max."

"With a friend." He told.

Y/n hummed once more, "Not that hard now is it Mr.Hargove?"

She turned around, but then remember something, and turned around, reaching inside her jacket, causing him to take step back.

"For the Missess. From New York."

It was a baggy of old fashion lemon drops. He looked at her, and carefully took the bag, she grabbing his wrist, bringing him closer "You should be afraid.l After all, I would."

She pulled away, "Bye Neil."

So you were off to Mike's house, you knew that was the designated hang out spot.

Knocking on the door Mr.Wheeler answered.

He seemed. More attentive when talking to you this time about.

"Hey Mr. Wheeler. Lookin for Mike, him and his friends here?"

"Mike!" He called.

"What!?" Mike answered.

"Basement. Through the kitchen on the left."

Y/n smiled, "thanks."

Walking inside she took off her shades, she walking through the kitchen and down the stairs.

"What dad?"

The group went silent seeing you, "Y/n!?"

"In the flesh!"

A group hug was definitely called for

They all jumped at you, hugging you happily, especially Will.

And Max, oh you were so happy to see Max.

"I have this for you." Y/n spoke handing her the wrapped gift.

"What is it?" Max asked.

"I have no idea." Y/n responded, "it's from Loki. He misses you."

She smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah. I think that you and him have quiet a bit in common." Y/n told, "He'll take you to Asgard next summer if you'd like."

The others couldnt stop talking your ear off, abour how cool you were they saw you on the news and just knew it had to be you

They're like your own little fanclub

Except Eleven, she doesnt exactly know who you are.

But she does say thank you for protecting her friends

She was trying to warm up to you, but too many girls together make her feel werid, shes not use to it is all.

They want to do everything, see all your new weapons

You had to eventually stop them, telling them you'd have a few more people to see. But. Since you were back now: you would be glad to hang out with them

And show them the really cool weapons you had aquired since you did have other people to see.

You were there for a good few hours, telling them stories and about the people you've met.

And Mike brought up Steve in one of his stories.

"He works at the Mall! Helps us get inside the movie theater for free all the time!" Mike told.

"Does he now?" Y/n smiled looking at the tjme, "Unfortunately. I do have to leave."

They booed, and all said there goodbyes, she promising to come and hang out with them again.

Will followed you out, trying to catch up with you.

"Y/n! Y/n!"

She stopped, looked back and smiled, "hey."

"I know they asked you to go to the movies with us. But you don't have to." Will told, "I know things are...werid with Steve."

Y/n chuckled, "don't worry bout that. If I go. Im goin to hang out with you guys."

He nodded.

"And." Y/n spoke, "Im sorry I stopped the letters."

"No! No! We all understood you were busy." He told, "Im glad your back."

"Me too." Y/n told, they hugging once more, " and Im not goin anywhere anymore."

It was a sweet thing Will even thought about your feelings in such a way.

But if you want to hang out with them. Nothing in the past would get in your way.

You were off next to Hawkins Pool

Lots of eyes on you as you kicked your stand up, casually walking past people who stared.

Little did you know it people were looking at Billy the same way, older women especially.

"Hey hotshot." A lifegaurd spoke he sitting at the front desk, "whats a thing like you doin alone dressed all in leather- aint it hot-"

"Im looking for Hargrove. "

"Of course you are." He sighed, "He's workin. Up on the Lifegaurds post."

You went into the pool area, lookin around kids and adults looking at you when you spotted him lazying up on his post.

"Who's she?" One of the older ladies asked.

"She's looks like she's goin after our show." The other commented.

Y/n walked past the group, stopping infront of Mrs.Wheeler's view.

"Wow. Mrs.Wheeler." she spoke up.

"Do I know you? Im try to watch my daughter." She explained really just angry that Y/n was blocking her view.

Y/n took her glasses off, "Hi. Mrs.Wheeler."

She was shocked to see y/n standing there, dressed in tight black jeans and an open shirt with a leather jacket on.

"You look..."

"Different? Thanks. Picked up the new style after Billy gave me his jacket." Y/n spoke, rubbing it in her face, "so how are the kids?"

It was only poliet to ask how the kids were.

"Fine." Mrs.Wheeler spoke, Y/n nodding with a shit eating smile. "Well. I'll see you lovely ladies later. Love the bathing suits."

Oh they were so mad at you.

You not only were Billy's age but had his chlothing and wearing it proudly like you were his little girl friend or something.

"Hey Hargrove!" She called walking towards the Life gaurds station.

He sighed, "can I help you?"

"Well if you're acting like that." Y/n spoke, he looking to the side to face her, "Where's the nearest Exit."

"The way you came in." He answered.

It took him a mintue as Y/n raised a eyebrow.

"Oh Shit!"

Y/n laughed, looking at him he climbing down with ease.

"Would you look at you." Y/n spoke, "got a job and everything."

He gestured for her to follow, he shouting at other workers that he was taking off for the day.

As soon as he was in the locker room with you, he gave you a hug.

God it felt so good to hug him again.

"Dont you ever leave me here for almost eight months." He argued.

"Aw? Someones counting the days Hargrove?" Y/n asked leaning against the locker as he got his stuff ready to leave.

He smiled the small locker luckily hiding that smile.

Its exactly how he pictured it, but even better.

Neither of you had really changed.

So the two of you left, he asking how you got here in the first place after all you didnt have the truck.

You told him Motorcycle.

He laughed. Motorcycle?

Oh shit Motorcycle, he was expecting it to be something from the junkyard

But this? THIS IS NICE

"Wanna take a ride?" Y/n asked.

"Take a ride?" Billy asked still memorized by how thr fuck Y/n got her hands on such a bike.

Y/n chuckled, "Yeah. You know...take a ride. Perhaps...tommrow for a long one, now that I can open portals across the world we go around and-"

"Wait." Billy told, "you just said you can open portals? How-"

"Magic. Duh." Y/n spoke holding up her sling ring, "Did you think I was in new york eating pizza this whole time?"

She tossed it to him, he catching it and looking at the odd ring.

"So. We can get on the bike and go wherever. Or. We can stand here all day." Y/n told, "I heard San Francisco has excellent weather today. Along with Shang-Hi, but you know. I've always wanted to got to Mexico. Then again. New York is always opened for an option."

"Seriously? New York."

Y/n shrugged and leaned on her bike, "New York it is then? Tommrow? Lunch?"

"You sure you dont got a jack rabbit date with Harrington?" He teased, Y/n going quiet.

"Yeah me and him arent together no more." Y/n responded, "i broke up with him before I left."

"Oh shit..." he responded Y/n raising her eyebrows in a "yeah" matter.

"Come on I didn't come here to talk about him. Get on." Y/n spoke getting on her bike, Billy following her and hopping on the back, "You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Gimmie the ring."

hell yeah, you ended up taking Billy out for a late lunch at his favorite spot in San Fransico.

You both sat in some hole-in-the-wall place downtown, eating Pupusas

You both talk about what's been happening, him about how the school sucked ass and the new mall that opened up in Hawkins, and you about your training and about some of the places you went while doing missions

It was nice to hang out with him again.

You both ended up going to the beach to relax, sitting on the sand lethargic from eating such a good meal.

"I use to surf."

Y/n opened her eyes, she laying in the sand with closed eyes, the breeze perfect.

"Hm? Really?" Y/n asked, "any good at it?"

He shrugged, "May still figure it out."

Y/n smiled closing her eyes, "we should do it."

"What?"

"Some surfing." Y/n told.

He laughed, reaching in his pocket for his cigrattes, pulling out his pack.

"Be fun." Y/n spoke, "We could make a weekend out of it. Go to diffrent beaches. Heard Miami''s got some killer beaches."

"You're shitting me?" He asked, forgetting about his cigrattes.

"Well duh. We're in San Francisco right now aren't we? Why not Miami. Or Bali? The Bahamas, Hawaii? Maybe even Asgard?"

"Asgard?"

"Home of the gods. Its in space." Y/n told, "they got a killer ocean."

He chuckled, "Not every day you have a hero as a friend."

"Im not a Hero." Y/n corrected.

"You sure about that?"

Y/n sat up, "yeah." She spoke with a smile.

"I think it's time I finally try and focus on what I want rather than try and save the world."

"Oh so Harrington-"

Y/n scoffed and laughed.

"I don't like him." Billy told, "But you were real happy with him."

"Yeah well he doesn't even know that I'm back. Plus. Im sure he's back with Nancy Wheeler."

It was Billy's turn to scoff, "Please. That families all fucked up in the head."

"You don't even know them." Y/n told.

"Mrs.Wheeler's a whore." He spoke, "i should know. Apparently thats all I can attract...Plus. They're rude to you. Thats enough for me."

Y/n looked over at him, "I think you'll find a nice girl. Someone that cares about you."

"...yeah...sure." he spoke.

"What?" Y/n asked, "Don't believe me?"

"I think I found that girl... a long time ago." He responded looking at her, "don't think I gotta be in a realtionship like that to be loved by her though."

Y/n smiled, "Good. She sounds like what you need."

Billy raised an eyebrow,

"Wait you talkin shit about me?" Y/n teased.

"Wow. You figured it out." He spoke, Y/n laughing as he followed suit.

"Yeah...I got your back Hargrove." Y/n smiled, "but we're totally fake dating if one of us needs it?"

"Absolutely."

The two chuckled, Y/n getting up, "come on. Hawkins is waiting for us."

"Ugh."

"Its not that bad. Come on. You can spend the night at my place." Y/n told, "we could play Life."

"Never again."

You both played life again in your room with the window open.

He lost

Again

Thank Stark for teaching you capitalism in full detail

You guys from move from life to Monoplay to Black jack

He beats you in Black Jack but not Monoplay.

By the time Frank gets home you're both knocked out together on your floor.

Franks glad you're back home, he rather walk in on you passed out on the floor with a board game than not see you at all

The next day you wake up, you left your window open so its a bit chilly in your room but you smell bacon and eggs

Getting up you walk out the room to see Frank cooking.

"Hey." Y/n catches his attention

"Morin," Frank spoke.

"Morin." Y/n yawned, walking over to steal a piece of bacon, "You seem happy today."

"Hey morin." Joyce spoke walking in the kitchen from getting dressed.

"That makes sense." Y/n told Frank, he elbowing her.

"You never change." Frank told.

"You'd missed me to much." Y/n teased, taking a bite, "Mhm Good bacon."

Joyce watched, smiling at the two as they went back and forth at each other.

"You off today?" Y/n asked Frank.

"Late shift today,"

"Mhm."

Y/ brushed the crumbs from her fingers over the sink, "What's the plan then?" Y/n directed towards Joyce.

"Just to hang out here. Will's at Mike's house."

"Mhm. I seen him yesterday." Y/n smiled, Frank pulling her back, conveying quietly to her.

"Date?" Y/n asked, "Oh you guys are goin on a date? Where?"

"Oh! No! No!" Joyce spoke quickly, "we're reschedule-"

"Don't let me ruin your plans." Y/n told, "The kids asked me to go see a movie with em anyways and I got unpackin to do."

"What kind of Unpacking." Billy yawned walking out the room, "emotional or Physical?"

"Haha." Y/n laughed, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Oh-" Joyce spoke, "I thought. You and. I didn't know you were-"

"What?! Oh! No no!" Y/n told, "we fell asleep after San Francisco."

"San Francisco?" Frank asked.

".....i mean what..."

"Did you steal another sling ring from Strange?"

"What? No!" Y/n argued, "It's mine now. I learned how to properly use it."

"Strange gave you magic. For gods sake." Frank spoke, Y/n laughing after pouring two other cups for Joyce and Billy, refilling Frank's.

"I train in it." Y/n shrugged, "Just portals."

"Im shooting him next time I see him." Frank told.

"Trust me. I tried that. Also. Vampires just don't like bullets. Tried filling Hanniable with Led. And be did not like that."

So while you and Frank talked about unloading Bullets Joyce and Billy kinda just sat there.

Its still odd to hear about just casually shooting people even if they both respect who you are.

But with breakfast done the four of you sit to eat.

Frank's cooking is superior.

Turns out Joyce and Frank we're going to spend "quality" time together.

"Where are you guys going to do? Downtown is nice since the mall closed." Billy told trying to be involved in the conversation.

"No. Billy you don't get it. There gonna f-" Y/n was kicked under the table, "Ow!"

"Change topics." He told.

"Okay. Okay." Y/n spoke, "Downtown really that much of ghost town now?"

"Unfortunately." Joyce told, "putting alot of good people out of bussniess."

You felt kinda bad.

Downtown is where you and Billy hung out for the first time

You guys contuined to talk until you had to take Billy back to his car parked at the pool.

Plus you were sure Frank wanted to spend his "alone time" with Joyce.

So with Billy you leave, dropping him off at his car asking him to use the pool phone

You called the kids, Mike's house specifically knowing thats where they hang out.

Luckily Mike answered instead of Mrs.Wheeler.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mike-"

"Y/n- Hey! Guys it's Y/n!"

"Y/n!"

She smiled, "Movies?"

"Yeah!" They all cheered over the phone, "we'll meet you there! Twenty mintues!"

The line was cut, "hello?" Y/n asked, yet no one answered.

With saying Bye to Billy one last time, you went seperate ways, you on your bike and him in his car.

You made it to the mall fairly quickly. It nothing new to you due to you living in New York.

Walking in people stared, you putting your shades on your head as you might as well as look around, while you wait for the kids.

But before you could even do such a thinv you're grabbed.

"Ah! Okay! Okay!" Y/n laughed, Max had jumped on her back.

"Look." Max spoke showing Y/n her necklace.

"Oh wow..that the one from Loki?" Y/n asked setting her down.

"Yeah." She spoke, "do you know what it is by any chance?"

"Hm." Y/n spoke, looking at it closely, "symbol of Jotunheim."

"What's that?"

"Loki's Home relam. You two must've made great friends." Y/n smiled, "I'll find some of my old books from Asgard. That I oh so graciously stole from the libary."

"Y/n!"

Y/n turned her head, the group of kids runninv her way, "Hey!"

They all hugged her quickly she happy to see them all, they talking about which movie to see

Specifically a horror movie

You were cool with whatever they wanted to watch.

But as you were taking your wallet out to buy said tickets they stoped you

"We get in for free." Lucas told.

"Free?" Y/n asked, "how?"

"Connections." Mike told.

"But I think we should go in the right way! You know since Y/n is old enough to vouche for us." Will cut in.

"What?! No way!" Lucas complained.

"It's fine Will.' Y/n smiled, "I don't mind a bit of back street walking anyways."

So they pulled you along happily, you following as quick as you could.

Icecream, you havent had it in so long.

"Okay. If we're using a back way to get in. I could atleast get you all icecream."

"The movie!" Lucas told.

"Come on we'll just miss the ads anyways." Y/n told the group next in line.

The couple infront of them moved after getting there icecream.

"Alrights whats the orders?" Y/n asked.

"Mint Chip,"

"Cookie dough"

"Sweet Cream please."

"Blueberry?"

Y/n smiled, "alright then."

"Hello. Welcome to scoops-"

The woman with red hair paused, Y/n smiling, "Hey."

"Hi..." she spoke, "uh...what can I?"

"Well." Y/n spoke looking at the name tag, "Robin. Can I get a Mint Chip, Cookie Dough, Sweet Cream and Blueberry all in cones please."

"Uh...." she spoke, "yeah...one..."

Her eyes adverted from Y/n, "aw. Shit. Steve! Your Kids are here! Come and help me!"

Y/n was silent as Steve came out, dressed in Uniform.

"I swear- if you all get me fired by doing this-"

He paused, seeing Y/n standing in all her glory, open shirt tucked in loosely, with tight slightly glared jeans and a brown leather jacket on.

"Um...can I have my icecream please?" Y/n asked.

"Right. Right!" Steve spoke, "Sorry!"

The two got the icecream made, handing each one to the kids.

"Go ahead." Y/n told, the kids rushinv in the back before anyone could get them in trouble.

"Robin could you?"

"Yeah." She spoke going to open the back door for the kids.

"And one more. Of your prefence in a cone please."y/n asked.

"Thats quiet a bt of money on icecream." Steve commented.

"Yeah. Well. Gotta treat the kids some days." Y/n told.

"Didn't know you were back in town." Steve spoke, "visiting?"

"Offically a midnight son now." Y/n told, "so Im back in town now as long as I want."

"Wow." He spoke, "Congrats..."

Y/n smiled, "thanks."

"One carmel with crunchies." He told handing her the cone.

"Thanks." Y/n smiled, handing him the cash for all the icecream.

"It uh has little pieces of cone in it, covered in chocolate." Steve explained handing her back change, "I just call them crunchies."

Y/n chuckled, "good idea."

She took a tatse, "not bad. I like it."

Steve smiled sheepishly, "yeah its pretty good....hey I was wondering...."

Y/n looked at him, "yeah?"

"Since your back in town. And Ya know. I know....we...didnt exactly split because-"

"Y/n!" Max called.

"Im coming Im coming." Y/n smiled, following Max, and looking back at Steve.

Her stare piercing, sharper than the last time he had seen her, she had grown much, despite her face looking the same, her gaze a deep one as she made her way towards the back.

"Bye Harrington." She smiled.

His gaze followed her and even ran himself into the back to see her vanish behind the second door into the mall's private hallway.

"Robin."

"Yeah yeah one for the loser board."

So you and the kids ended up watching some horror movie they were dying to watch

You guess it was cool, it just seemed to glide right over you though, the whole Ax Murder thing

Just seemed so unrealistic.

But they all enjoyed it, jumping up and down watching it.

So you stick through it for them.

You did enjoy your icecream though

Steve has good taste

But as you finish it you're kinda...well. bummed.

The sweet taste gone, leaving you wanting more despite being comfortably full.

It was gone too soon, and you were enjoying it.

When the movie eas over you walked out with all of them,

You'd give it a 2.5 out of 5 on the movie.

And as you walked out, following far behind the group who was running into some nerd store.

Suddenly she was grabed in a hug, "It's you! Oh! It's really you! Haha!"

Y/n looked at the dark hair, feeling a mix of leather and jean on the mans back and arms.

"Munson?"

"Hah! Look at you!" He spoke pulling away, "Wow. You got about shredded..damn....Not the point! Where have you been! No word for almost 8 months! Who else was I suppose to bomb class finals with!?"

Y/n chuckled, "Yeah. Had some shit go down ya know."

"Oh please." Eddie spoke, "I get it man."

Y/n smiled, Eddie smiling back.

"What are you doin at a mall?" Y/n asked Eddie, "Dossn't seem like your style. If ya catch my drift."

"Eh." Eddie shrugged, "They got a new music store. Had to look at the guitars ya know."

"Right....The Coroddied Coffin."

He laughed in excitement, his body moving with his feelings, "haha! You remember! You have to come see us sometime!"

"Yeah I wouldnt mind. Plus You always talked about it." Y/n shrugged.

"The Freaks words stuck woweza." Eddie told, "You're flatering me here babe."

Y/n laughed, "I have to go. But."

She leaned into his ear, "The freaks always were better."

She started walking away waving to him as she did so.

"Hey! Wait! I'll come with!" Eddie called quickly following her.

So maybe this mall was slightly better than the other malls you've been too.

You were looking at comic books with the kids in the store, Will showing you one that was ment to be you

"They think your a dude." Will told watching Y/n flip through the book.

"Eh..there scared a woman's gonna over power Thor."

"Can you?" Will asked.

"Depends on his mood." Y/n chuckled smiling Will's way as she handed him back the comic book.

Little did she know Steve's watching her across the way, it a perfect view watching you at the window flipping through a comic book.

You were flirting with him again? Right?

His daydreaming intruppting his job.

Wasnt till a guy came over handing you a comic book.

You two obviously laughing as you flipped through the pages.

You were laughing at this "Skull and Bones" comic someone had created though it only went one edition it was hilarious

Everything was so wrong starting with how you both even got into doing what you do

But they got one thing right: the banter

You kept looking through them with Eddie, wasnt a surpise but he read comics here and there.

His favorite Ghost Rider, which made sense.

But soon his band called him pulling him alonb back to the music store as you waved goodbye with a laugh.

Watching them pull his away through the window caused you to watch the show, then look around a bit, spotting the Icecream shop along the way, and a familiar figure across the way.

You waved to Steve

"Hey is this a good book about the necklace?" Max asked Y/n looking over, taking the book from Max flipping through it.

"Yeah actually." Y/n told, "specifically this chapter."

Y/n handed her back the book to show Max the chapter and then looked back to find Steve gone.

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Tags: @raelwrites @miiikkeey @beebslebobs @ah-witch @supernaturallover2002 @pearlstiare @simonsbluee @stilllivindue2spite @lvbred @dancingqueen21 @writerdream22 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @knivqs @xxlaynaxx @3-spurr @eliskakratochvilova @sunshinepower17 @marssssaturn @howlerwolfmax @mxltifxnd0m @varientlyvisual @givemylovetoall @faithm120601 @abbiesxox

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

"Catch Your Name"

Hello everyone! So i’m really excited about this one, cause it’s my first Bucky imagine I would appreciate some feedback about it, you guys liked it or not, or whastaver is on your mind. Enjoy my fellow Bucky lovers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: none really other than swearing

Word count: 1129

Y/N stepped into the bar craving a glass of scotch, or a cold beer. If she wants it to really hit, maybe vodka should do. It was he well earned break from work. She can let go for a little bit, lose herself in the moment. It’s not a big deal, right?

She can smell gasoline and smoke on her clothes, filling up her nose like poison. She used to love the smell of gasoline, reminding her of her childhood, always running around in the garage with her dad and grandfather. Now the memories has faded, and the smell is just irritates her.

She could care less tho, having no interest to talk, even look at anybody else than her glass of alcohol, whatever that will be. Y/N is making her way to the bar, searching for her usual spot, hoping its empty, and waiting for her. This Friday night is a little crowded, but she doesn’t mind, more people, easier to disappear in. Her mind is already wandered off, dreaming about the numbness she wants to reach tonight, but as soon as she gets to her seat, all that thoughts shatter in million pieces. Her bar chair is very much taken, and it would just alright if the person on it would be somebody else.

Y/N cursed under her breath, not capable to swallow the words back. “For fucks sake…” Anger pouring in her veins, familiar but stings every part of her on the way.  

James Buchanan Barnes sat at the edge of the bar, well hidden from curious eyes while he can observe everything. The seat next to him is empty, almost calling her to fill it in. Well, it seems like she won’t drink tonight, or tomorrow.  She put a seductive smile on her face, thinking about how she wants this scene to play out. How people around them should remember them.  The Sergeant catches her in the corner of his eyes, but doesn’t pay any attention until she is seated next to him, her voice not matching the look on her face, the vibe she sends of off her.

“You stand out like a sour thumb, Sergeant.” She speaks in a polite but cold tone. Bucky’s brow arches up, and the realization hits him. she recognized him. His muscles tense, gripping the beer in front of him harder, ready to break out of any situation she can cause.

“Maybe they can’t see the Soldier in your features, but the glove gives you away. It is cold, but not that cold.”

Bucky doesn’t really know what to do or say. He can’t recall you face, or voice. Who do you work for, or worked for. Maybe he met you back when he lost and found memories all the time. He can imagine that. She slider closer, as close as she can with the high chair, her body language totally different than the words she speaking.

“Now, I would like to know what the hell you are doing here. Nobody warned me about your arrival, so i assume you are on a solo mission.”

“Who exactly should have warned you about me coming here?”

Her features go into a grimace for a second, but the honey dripping smile soon comes back, her body completely turning towards him. She can see he could not understand fully what she’s doing.

“Shield?”

“You know very well it does not exist anymore. “ She speaks lower, a little pain in her voice.  So it is Shield, or the ashes of it, Bucky tought.

“I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable Sergeant, but you need to stop being so rigid, so we can blend in. You need to level up you acting if you don’t want to make a scene with those lads over there.” You nod discreetly to a table of loud and cheerful men.

“Or with them”  Bucky looks to the billiard table. Now he knows for sure he is at the right place.  He follows you movements, opens up his posture, and shows interest in you.  You smirk, not really for the attention he gives, but he’s catching on with you.

“Im here for about a year, and I really hope you are not here to make a mess, and leave it to me to clean up.”

“Why are you here?” He’s asking, and you laugh harshly, like he has said something extremely funny.

“For the same thing you are. Not for the food clearly, neither for the palm trees.” Bucky sees a smile different on your face. Not pretended, nor forced. A genuine smile, the first real move you made.

“I didn’t catch your name.” Bucky is on the edge of his seat. He could not decide is she is a threat, or not.

“I can’t tell that here. C’mon, I thought you would know that. I’m not the enemy here, Sergeant.” Well he believes it or not, she can’t give more. Too much eyes on them, too much ears hearing their conversation.  The bartender gives suspicious glances to Bucky, and Y/N knows she has to do something before he alerts the nearest table, full of drunk Hydra members.

“Come closer.” Y/N says, and Bucky is stunned for a second before she explains it further. “You draw too much attention, and if you won’t act human soon, they will catch on. Grab you seat and come closer.

Bucky’s mind is screaming to not obey, but he knows he is on an unknown territory, and he needs help. He stands up, watching her face light up in a sweet smile, looking like a shy schoolgirl on a date with her crush.  “Is this you plan? Act like we are on a date?”

She looks at him in disbelief, kinda impressed by his honesty. “These guys see me almost every night. They know I will be here tomorrow, as I was here yesterday. So, acting like I’m on a date with a guy they never saw, they won’t think about it too much. So, you I can keep my cover, and you can get out of here alive. Is that sounds good?”

Bucky just nodes his head, not knowing what he can say to that. He has to admit it’s better than anything he can think of.

“Is your winged friend is here too?” She smirks shoving a shot of alcohol down her throat.

“Maybe.” For a moment Bucky forgot he was on a mission. He wished he could feel the beer, or that mysterious liquid she just poured down. Having fun with a beautiful woman at the edge of the night.

“Then let’s find that eagleman.”

“Falcon” He corrects her instantly. She laughes out loud, than grabs him by his arm, and pulls him out of the crowded smokey bar.

“Whatever.”

[inertflouride]

The Heist Part-32

You know the drill now... For previous updates, go here! Sorry, not sorry, for what is about to unfold now.

The Following chapter is in Mark, or as they call him, Master's POV

"Master. If I may?"

I take a long drag from my cigar as Josh, my present righthand man, moves to inquire into my views about all this. I know what he's going to ask. I don't even have to listen to his question before answering.

This is the thing with humans; they all are quite predictable once you start understanding the pattern of their cognitive thinking. All except me and my upbringing, which unfortunately my brat brother has too.

"Go ahead", I sigh, holding the smoke between my two fingers.

"Are you really going to go according to their plan, sir? Because my master hasn't ever been a follower, rather the one who has made others follow him", he butters me up, while also trying to get what he wants.

I wonder why these people even bother. I mean I'm scary, agreed. I'm terrifying, agreed. I'm stupid enough to fall for their buttering act? I guess I'll cross that box.

"Hmm", I take another long drag before answering, "Why do you think I'm following someone this time?"

"Because, master, you didn't make them move according to a plan you made. Rather, you listened to their plan and agreed to it. I can swear I have never seen, your grace, doing something like this", he chimes, rubbing his hands together like a dishonest trader.

"Ok Josh. Leave that. Tell me everything you know about Miss Davis", I amusedly ask him.

He starts scrambling for this data file as soon as the words leave my mouth. It's funny seeing a 6 feet 3 inch tall guy running around like a cat following its own tail. This is why they can't be where I am.

This is why I need my brat brother by my side.

Of course, he doesn't need to know that. He can go live in rainbow tinted dreams with his little bitch for now about being like an average civilian, but deep down, he knows he can never escape his reality, which is this, beside me.

"Yes sir. I apologise for the wait. What part should I specifically focus on about Miss Davis?"

"Everything but nothing", I assert, getting amused by Josh's bewildered look. "Alright, start from the specs."

"Name- MC Davis. Age- 23. Born in Boston. Current Resident of Colorado. Marital status- Single. Cu-"

"Marital status- Single soon", I bemusedly interrupt him, snapping my fingers for scotch, which is poured in seconds by someone I don't really care about.

"Right, master. Current illnesses- none. Has 3 moles on her face, all inconspicuous. Had a scar on her right torso. A mole on her right breast-"

"Alright. That should be enough information to imagine Miss Davis in my head while fucking her", I rub my forehead, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Apologies, master", he bows, tugging the file under his arm.

"Tell me more about her present acquaintances."

"Yes master", he starts skimming through her folder. You see, I realised this one thing. Jake thinks a lot like me. Kyle too. And that I can't kill Miss davis.

So, I decided to play a little game with the three of them. One thing I know about Jake and Kyle is that trust doesn't come easily to either of them: a paranoia which I instilled in them. To the extent that they won't even trust each other with everything.

Then comes Miss Davis: the one who would drive a stake on my careful planning, encouraging them to sit and talk about things. So, I decided why not portray Miss Davis in a distrustful light. And that's where that beautiful hard disk comes. One of my guys placed a little note in her pocket which will make Miss Davis want to hide the disk from the two guys.

Why? Because the disk has how I killed Kyle's mother. And how Jake knew about it. Ever since then.

Of course, Jake doesn't actually know about it; he'd have completely lost it had he been even a remote part of anything. It is just a cute little replica of Jake doing some nasty things. Just like a cute replica of mine who would die in a plane crash, which I haven't yet decided who would be. Many people I wish to kill. Alas, I can choose only one. But, I assure you, none could match my charm. It's one of a kind.

Back to where I was. So, you see, playing with humans has been one evergreen habit of mine. I can't help but do it. You would too if you knew how to. It's actually fun trying to coil your finger around the spider web type of human relations. Fragile and Pathetic. An utter waste of time.

And once in a light year, you find a web as firm as the Darwin's Bark spider's; admittedly, they are the most fun to break too.

Just like little Jake and his bitch.

"There aren't many acquaintances of miss Davis, master. Like, the ones she had, aren't in contact with her anymore, or the other way around." I shut my eyes and hung my head back in thinking when Josh speaks up. "Except one. A lawyer. Christopher."

"And where might he be?", I speak without lifting my head or opening my eyes.

"Right under your payroll, sir."

[whoneedssubtitles]

he knows he loves you☁️

bakugo writes you a love letter in part one of to be loved by bakugo. series masterlist

Bakugo knows he loves you. And he hates it, but it’s true. He even told Kirishima, “I don’t hate her as much as I hate you for asking me these dumb questions.” And the faux redhead proceeded to prod and ask even more dumb questions, accompanied by a teasing off-brand Pikachu and Scotch Tape.

“I have to say, it’s not very manly of you to push your feelings away like this.”

“Nobody asked you, dumbass. Now leave me alone.” (They did not)

But he loves you alright. He can tell when he’s sitting on the floor of his dorm room, his back against the bed with his knees propping up his favorite romance manga. He wipes his palms on his pants before turning the page, careful not to ruin the paper with his clammy hands. If he stares at the drawings long enough, his face and yours start to replace those of the leads. He imagines you handing him a love letter—one of his favorite scenes—before darting away in the hallway, face growing hot with embarrassment and anticipation. Maybe he should try writing you a letter, he wonders.

And try he does. He sits at his desk, pen hovering over the blank page. Would you prefer blue or black ink? Should he put it in an envelope or just fold it up? He hopes you don’t expect anything too extravagant—he’s never been good with words. A simple “Dear…” opening should be fine, right? Fuck, who would even know about this kind of mushy gross stuff?

Now his thumb is flipping through the contacts on his phone, pausing over the one labeled “Pink Freak.” She would just make fun of me. He puts his phone in his desk drawer and closes it shut.

He writes your name on the page. Has his handwriting always been this messy? He crumples it up and starts a new one, writing your name as if he were drawing a picture—slow, cautious, and constantly worrying about its appearance. Better.

“You aren’t as annoying as the other extras.”

“During training, I always hope you win your fights against everyone—except me.”

“I make extra lunch sometimes; I can leave it in the fridge for you if you want.”

He continues like this for a while, listing off several not-quite-compliments and other things he doesn’t mind about you. Every few lines, he stops to reread his work. The ideas were jumbled, disconnected, and maybe not the most flattering, but they were honest. And if you squint really hard, you can almost make out what he really means to say.

He comes back to it after a few hours, reading over the now complete letter.

This is shit. It was nothing like the one in the manga. You are the sun to my moon, my reason for smiling each day. I wish to spend every moment by your side, even when the world tries to pull us apart. How do people write that stuff anyway?

He crinkled the corners of the paper while folding the letter, but he already spent too much time on the damn thing so you’ll just have to deal with it, okay? He stuffs the letter in an envelope addressed to you and stuck it between two pages of the manga he was reading, tucking it away amongst his collection. Never to be opened or read because Bakugo knows he loves you, he’s just not ready to admit it.

At least not yet.

daydream masterlist.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Crocoduel

When you stop and think about it, this episode is really just the world's most intense custody battle.

Let's get into the thirteenth (chronologically the twelfth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Crocoduel

We start off with the band Kitty Section (composed of Luka, his timid sister Juleka, her “best friend” Rose, and Ivan) performing a concert for the super amazing Zoe and all the peons beneath her greatness (Alya, Alix, Nino, and Mylene). Luka notes its been a while since Marinette came to the Liberty. Because I guess even the show wants to forget the events of “Sole Crusher”.

Luka is still upset that Marinette hasn't wanted to be around him since their breakup, so after he walks away, the others scheme to force them to spend time together.

Yep, even though they promised to back off in “Gang of Secrets”, Marinette's friends are once again trying to meddle in Marinette's personal life as well as Luka's this time. Because it's not like they can understand how hard it is for two exes to remain friends after a breakup and give them their space, right? They plan to invite Marinette to Luka and Juleka's birthday party while reminding the audience that they're twins.

YES. THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TWINS. ASTRUC HAS NEVER SAID OTHERWISE OR CONTRADICTED THIS STATEMENT IN THE PAST.

LUKA WAS NEVER TWO YEARS OLDER THAN JULEKA, JUST LIKE THERE WAS NEVER A WAR IN BA SING SE.

In all seriousness, I do feel like I was a little hard on Astruc for this. Compared to other things he's made canon on Twitter, this is fairly minor, and we only knew Luka was the older brother at first through a tweet. And considering the other retcon we'll see in the very next scene, this isn't as big of a deal as I made it initially.

Alya invites Marinette to the party, but she easily deduces that it's a trap. Alya then tries to convince Marinette to talk to Luka.

Uh... since when? When did Marinette lose all romantic feelings for Luka? The whole point of the breakup in “Truth” was to show that she couldn't pursue a romantic relationship with Luka because of her duties as Ladybug. She never showed any signs of not loving him, which made the breakup all the more tragic. Yeah, “Mr. Pigeon 72” was an excuse for her to go back to loving Adrien because the writers don't know how to write anything else, but it didn't mean she stopped loving Luka. You know, it's almost like the writers want to make sure the audience knows Lukanette will never happen and the sacred Love Square is the only way Marinette will ever feel love for someone else.

Alya still forces Marinette to go, making her ask Juleka if Luka won't be there. Some people have gone down on Marinette for this, but she does later acknowledge how wrong this was to ask, and apologizes to Juleka for trying to force her to do something she didn't want to do. If only Marinette's friends learned the same lesson.

Juleka goes to tell Luka about the party, but hesitates to tell Luka he can't go there. While he knows Juleka is hiding something, Luka is distracted by the sudden arrival of his father who he loves despite abandoning him for his entire life, Jagged Stone. However, Luka and Juleka's mother, the anarchy-loving Anarka isn't happy that much like his sperm when the condom broke, Jagged came in without her permission.

At the day of the party, Marinette panics as soon as she sees Luka, who in turn realizes she didn't want to see him. Rather than comfort Juleka who just ran away crying, the others comfort Luka, preventing him from being akumatized by Shadowmoth, though he still keeps his Akuma around just to be safe. Marinette apologizes to Juleka before Shadowmoth can akumatize her too (even though she got a Magical Charm in “Guiltrip” so it wouldn't work either way). Then Shadowmoth tries to akumatize one of the guests as they find out Jagged (who just arrived) is Luka's father, but since they're dumb teenagers who don't know Jagged was winning awards and being celebrated as a rock icon while Anarka was working two jobs and struggling to make enough money for rent, they think it's awesome. Very confusing day for Shadowmoth, isn't it?

Marinette also finds out Jagged is Juleka's father and finds out Juleka worries Jagged loves Luka more since they share more interests, which she thinks is true when Jagged gives Luka a guitar case and instructs her to not tell his sister. Marinette tries to call out Jagged for neglecting Juleka over Luka even though Jagged was more of a father to his pet crocodile than either of his biological children, but it's obviously a gift for Juleka, the first bass guitar Jagged ever owned, which calms her down. Funny how nobody acknowledges how Jagged practically abandoned his family, isn't it? Sure, it looks like he's trying to make up for it, but he just acts like he's always been Luka and Juleka's dad and they don't have any problems with their father literally never being in their lives until now.

Jagged's gift to Luka is a record of the first record he made in his band with Anarka before they broke up, Crododuel, but Anarka is naturally pissed he wants to give that to Luka. Jagged and Anarka argue over which one was the Yoko Ono in their relationship while they both grab the record, which Shadowmoth uses to akumatize the two as it breaks, turning them back into Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock respectively, Shadowmoth labeling them as Crocoduel.

Unlike the other team Akumas like the Punishers or the Gang of Secrets, Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock care more about fighting each other than working together, and they see getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous as a competition to help prove who was right in their argument. It's a pretty interesting gimmick, though I don't get how Shadowmoth thinks this will help him and not ignore Ladybug and Cat Noir while they fight.

Alya provides a distraction to help Marinette transform, and after we get Adrien's single scene to remind the audience he's still a main character, he transforms into Cat Noir. The two heroes give chase, but then Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock decide to take their fight to above the clouds.

Yeah, it's not like you have a form that specifically allows you two to fly, right?

All they had to say was that Marinette was still making more potions for that form, and it would have been better than ignoring the fact that they can fly.

Much like the hotel room during the night Luka and Juleka were conceived, the crossfire from Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock's fight starts to damage the area around them. Ladybug and Cat Noir get Luka and Juleka to safety, and Luka tells them about what's happening, while Ladybug spouts the lesson about people needing to talk even though they don't love each other anymore, reflecting the situation the writers retconned her into learning.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, a roll of scotch tape, and comes up with an idea that involves Juleka. She takes her away into an alleyway and gives her the Tiger Miraculous. The tiger Kwami, Roarr, demands Juleka show some courage, so Juleka yells in her face. Unfortunately, as much as I want to show this scene, the subs I got don't really match up, so I can't really give some screenshots of it. So I guess you can watch this scene from Full Metal Jacket instead to get the gist of things.

So Juleka takes the Tiger Miraculous and transforms into Purple Tigress.

I think the suit has a pretty good design. I like the striped pattern with the gold highlights around the black stripes, and think the color scheme is visually pleasing, especially the hair. I wouldn't call it one of my favorite hero suits, but I still like the way it looks.

Cat Noir launches Ladybug and Purple Tigress into the air where they split up to steal both halves of the record, but when they break them, no Akuma comes out. It turns out that since the record was broken while Jagged and Anarka were akumatized, they need to put it together again before breaking it in order to free the Akuma.

Purple Tigresse goes to distract Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock with her power, Collision, which she uses to KNOCK CAPTAIN HARDROCK'S SHIP ABOVE THE CLOUDS, TAKING GUITAR VILLAIN WITH HER.

Why the hell did it take four seasons to break this Miraculous out if it gives the user the ability to go Super Saiyan on the enemy? I think Cat Noir's expression after seeing the power in action says it all.

Cat Noir Cataclysms the record (because a record is just so hard to break without using the power of destruction, isn't it?), Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix everything, Jagged and Anarka somehow weren't killed by their own daughter, the three heroes pound it, and Ladybug gives two Magical Charms to Jagged and Anarka.

Back at the Liberty, Juleka tells the two to forget what caused them to break up and just apologize while they ignore the past, proving the writers really don't get how hard it is to move on from tough events in life. And despite building it up for the entire episode, Marinette and Luka talk in the final thirty seconds of the episode and just agree to be friends, meaning once again, Luka was sidelined in what should have been a focus episode for him.

Aside from the way Jagged and Anarka's relationship was portrayed coupled with the retcons surrounding Luka, this episode was alright in my opinion. Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock are some of my favorite Akumas, so I thought it was nice to see them again, even if we didn't get to see their powers at full potential. I also thought this was a really good episode for Juleka, as I felt like the hero debut really helped her grow as a person and didn't just feel like she was given a Miraculous because the plot said so. She wanted to help her parents, and using the Tiger gave her the courage to symbolically speak out while potentially launching them into the stratosphere.

But the biggest problem to me has to be the way Jagged is portrayed in the episode. Just like with “Truth”, the idea of Jagged being a terrible parent is just swept under the rug and everyone just accepts the fact that Jagged is Luka and Juleka's dad very well. Despite the idea leading to some interesting drama in a show that's no stranger to family drama, they don't really do much with the whole “Jagged abandoning Anarka” thing. Aside from a brief interaction between Luka and Jagged while the former was akumatized into Truth, nobody is really angry at Jagged. Nobody really feels angry at Jagged for what he did, despite the drama being the main focus behind the episode that also had the Lukanette breakup. You would think this would at least lead to some tension between his family, but nothing really comes from it other than an argument that was pretty much played for laughs. But considering this show has a history of teaching kids to love their parents no matter how cruel they are to them, I'm not entirely surprised.

Overall, it's just a decent, albeit forgettable episode. If the writing with Jagged was different, it could have been a lot better in my opinion.

[shoezuki]

ok so like i been Thinkin a lot on that stream techno had today and i may be Thinkin Too Much cuz i was doing psychology while watching but im going to say Words Now

the entire idea and Plot of tommy going from only interacting/being manipulated by dream to only interacting with techno is a Lot. theres a lot here. and i am feasting like a fucking king on the potential of it and what this could all Mean

I think we’re building up the idea of how techno and dream differ and how they house both similarities and extreme differences in their ideals. 

So if we considered how Tommy’s arcs have changed theres a very, VERY clear juxtaposition between the exile arc to.... raccoon arc? whatever the fuck is goin on

Tommy Was manipulated, isolated, and gaslit by dream. that was the only guy he really had interacted with and that was Intentional entirely. Its very obvious this will have and currently has an affect on tommy. 

Now, he’s with technoblade. theres a lot of shit that can be read in this simply as considered right now. I feel we’re clearly supposed to at least somehow compare dream and technoblade because their positions are somewhat similar concerning how they are interacting with tommy. 

Tommy can only really interact with techno, only techno really has the ability to see him (although ranboo, ghostbur, and phil could see him but theres obvious difficulties in their case), and how tommy regards technoblade is.... complicated. like how he regards dream at the moment.

but theres some really, really important and clear differences in this that i think will show a lot about techno’s character and what’s to come

first of all, there’s a question of why techno is seemingly ‘letting’ tommy live with him. No joke, i’ve discussed this a LOT in the technocord and it’s made me realize it from a different perspective since many of those people in there are from Before techno joined the smp.

so, there’s no clear ‘rational’ reason why techno would benefit from teaming with tommy. there’s some arguments that could be made; tommy’s position with people and especially tubbo, using tommy as a bargaining chip with dream, and something else i cant remember. but the technocord hardcore ppl feel tommy is a liability in the long term. techno doesn’t really have much to gain beyond a distraction. the idea of using tommy in order to convince him he’s getting the disks and then to destroy lmanberg is kinda.... its jus more trouble to techno. In fact, it wouldve been defendable for techno to kick him out; he stole his stuff, and we saw how he reacted to his cows being killed, his previous base being pillaged. You’d have thought techno wouldve been angrier.

but like. that aside. there’s little reason for techno to open up to tommy. and thats the point.

there’s no necessity on techno’s part. he doesnt need tommy. he could kick him out easily. but he won’t. 

I imagine technoblade sees the trauma and hardship tommy went through and he sympathizes with him. Its been made clear that techno doesnt know the full extent of what happened, but he doesnt need to. he knows enough. 

Now, back to the happenings of the last stream,

it wasnt plot heavy at all. (mostly because techno’s fuckign glasses are held together with SCOTCH TAPE the guy couldnt even fucking use ducttape i hate that) but there were a Few interesting things, including the Plot Stream a bit;

the ‘box’ techno made with the idea of hiding tommy from dream. (perhaps a joke but it still shows something i feel)

how he’s been giving tommy a Lot of stuff. he hasnt Genuinely been upset at his golden apples being taken; in fact, techno gave him more food in protest of him eating all the gapples instead of.... demanding them back

went mining in the nether with the intention of getting tommy better stuff

he replaced the log he accidentally stripped. extremely funny considering he got the wrong type of wood but he tried

expending more resources on tommy with invisibility potions so that he wasnt in danger of being seen

Repeatedly would assure tommy that dream Is Not His Friend.

at the idea of tommy being ‘banned’ from the nether and being attacked in lmanberg, techno laughed at the idea of him being ‘attacked’ and killed even when tommy worried that he’d die for the Last Time

implicated that techno WOULD defend him. and the idea of someone killing Either him or tommy was funny because of that

okay so slight comparison to dream; techno is instead GIVING tommy resources instead of blowing them up, he’s obviously intent on protecting him in some way, and he assures tommy that dream is No Good (rather than how dream was telling tommy no one cared about him)

But there’s one instance that was really, really important to me

the control room had a very bad impact on tommy. most likely a panic attack (the shaking, heavy breathing, scattered speech/thought is something i know so intimately lmao) and techno’s reaction to it was extremely interesting. 

first, techno said he was ‘freaking out for no reason’ which could be a) techno is horrific at emotions and vulnerability lmao and b) to Him, it Is nothing. he has no clue what tommy had been through. 

He repeatedly asked what was wrong. what had happened in that room. He pressed Slightly. but as soon as tommy said he didnt want to talk about that, techno instantly backed off and said its alright. specifically, he said:

“It’s fine, no one recovers in a day tommy. Healing is a long process, it’s fine.”

that shit hit me like a freight train. Mostly i didnt expect anything to come from this stream like that but FUCK LMAO.

The biggest thing is, i think technoblade is going to help tommy heal from the dream shit and get back on his feet. 

but also, even though im not entirely sure i need to see more, tommy will get techno to be more caring. We know philza is the only one techno is really close to, and ghostbur as well. both of which either weren’t involved in betraying techno, or doesnt remember it. i see it pointed out that techno is going at tubbo and his government rather than dream, but i think it makes sense. 

dream technically hasnt challenged techno’s ideals or what he wants; while tubbo stole from him, used him as a weapon, and reinstated a government despite everything techno was saying. 

Tommy took part in betraying him, thats without a doubt. but tommy was also screwed over by the government in place. so techno empathizes with him. maybe they dont fully trust each other, but thats a work in progress. and it will progress to technoblade trusting tommy despite their past, and realizing that dream is in a position of power over Everyone. 

tl:dr: tommy is going to heal with techno’s help and full come to terms with/realize what dream did to him, and techno is going to realize he CAN trust people and that dream has been the one pulling the strings all along