#langley call my fucking phone

[crguang]

it was indeed me 🌠 anon who finally downloaded ptn, can’t believe u guessed who I was. Which I haven’t even opened ptn yet bc I’ve been busy asf this week and I’ve been trying to fix my sleep schedule (spoiler alert it isn’t going well), midterms are coming up for me as well ugh. Oh and there’s like no storage left on my phone, it is holding on for dear life rn, I should just a computer that isn’t the age of a schoolchild so I don’t kill my phone but I’m too broke. My friend keeps sending me the do it for her things, and uh respectfully I’d like to chew on them. -🌠

i guessed it was you because of the typing style and u mentioned that u didnt have enough storage for ptn a while ago lmaoo, but i hope things calm down enough after midterms so you can actually play the game, i think ur gonna miss the current events tho </3 i also need a working laptop cause mine is so impossibly slow that i cant run any games on it and i havent been able to play sims im going insane i wanna make a ptn/hsr household😞 the way this official art just came out too… these are literally aisno’s favs because its always them in new fits😭 not complaining cause zoya looks scrumptious and coquelic’s my new chew toy, plus hamel is ethereal as always. they all look so gorgeous ughhhh i love this game

[deathsbestgirl]

scully + ghosts

is…emily trying to reach out to scully? it’s melissa’s voice but. the second call scully gets (on her cellphone that time) she was dreaming of the time she accidentally killed her bunny because bill was threatening to kill it & cook it, after she found it, she sees emily sitting on the stairs watching her.

emily looks like melissa. and then she gets the picture of emily from the detective & goes back to bill’s to compare it to pictures of melissa

so like. idk in my head it’s because of their connection. they just have a deeply rooted connection, the scully women. they have psychic abilities, and scully specifically has a connection to the dead (another reason for her ending up in pathology?) and melissa can hear melissa — melissa was the one encouraging scully to find out what happened to her when she was abducted. she *knew* there was something really important. the whole idea has always terrified scully, because she ~knew too but it was too much to face. and she doesn’t until she’s forced to. the cancer. then after her remission, emily shows up months later.

and this episode isn’t funny at all, but there’s still some humor in scully stumbling on a case when she’s on vacation.)l

when she calls mulder in the middle of dinner but can’t bring herself to talk because it’s too much & she has no idea what’s happening and she hasn’t had to lean on him like that since her cancer

scully telling maggie about emily, thinking emily is melissa’s daughter — and to scully that makes so much sense because how was she hearing melissa’s voice on the phone

there’s something here about ghosts & technology. later langley uses mulder’s phone to reach out from the beyond

maggie sharing her experience of her husband after he died — dreams, phone calls. “we’re still connected to them, dana, even after they’re gone”

oh god, the memory of christmas + the crosses. seeing herself as maggie.

(the way i didn’t mean to write about this episode)

the conspiracy with the clinic & the drugs — the framing of the husband. but why was he so on board with the experiment?

emily grabbing scully’s necklace & scully taking it off to put it on emily — god it’s so hard to watch scully with emily. she’s softer than ever. has it occurred to her yet that emily could be hers? that dream…and god it feels like emily recognized the necklace. she can feel the connection to scully. (remembering the only other time scully didn’t wear her necklace was when she lost it being abducted by duane barry, abducted, and mulder kept it safe for her — *wore it* to keep her close. only two people have had the honor)

god bill is such a jerk. i can see how he cares, but he’s such a jerk. the bad psychoanalyzing the scully’s are doing to her — maggie’s though has the string of belief, that they’re connected, the dead don’t simply leave them.

now mr. sim signs a confession?? but she catches on cuz she’s not gonna fall for something so easy — looks like a setup, walks like a setup. and then she sees the two men who were watching before & they find mr. sim dead.

why does bill think scully would make this up to have a child & a chance at motherhood? it’s so dismissive of scully as a person. a severe oversimplification.

scully opening up to this woman about her emotional distance — her fear of death & dying…and yet she became a pathologist & joined the fbi.

(the dark lighting in this episode is ridiculous. it doesn’t make sense why she has a meeting with this woman in extremely dim lighting is weird.)

this memory with melissa is fucking beautiful. the comfort melissa tries to give scully about joining the fbi, not following the typical medicine path. reminding her of what’s important (and honestly why it matters to scully).

i love that scully’s connection to melissa is so strong. scully has had two perfect opposites in her life. melissa & mulder. and it forged a connection that surpasses even death (any insurmountable distance — “i had the strength of your beliefs,” how scully had dreams of mulder’s abduction experience, seeing his spirit when he was drifting off) these memories are still so clear for scully and it’s beautiful & painful & incredible.

(going right into emily because i have to)

i wish we got to see scully call mulder. he shows up and immediately she introduces him to emily. mulder quickly noticing scully’s necklace around emily’s neck. and gods, i love this man & the way he is with children. his empathy shines through more than ever. the way he recognizes their innocence, pain & struggle and does exactly what will help them, make them comfortable with him. so he’s goofy with her and doesn’t put pressure on her to interact more than she’s comfortable with. and the layer of ~emily is scully’s daughter~ (however it came to be)

mulder&scully’s honesty with each other is one of the most powerful aspects of their relationship. they never want to see the other hurt, but not at the expense of the truth because that’s what is most important to both of them. to them, truth is the foundation of true loyalty & love & care. this dedication to the truth forged their trust within in their partnership and has carried through to every facet & phase of their relationship — it’s why diana fowley caused so much turmoil when she was around. she couldn’t change their foundation or relationship, but she could get into mulder’s head, manipulate him when he’s vulnerable, taking advantage of his quest & desires and it scared scully in a very different way. the way he behaved made her think his trust shifted, that he would believe a lie if it aligned with his goals/confirmed what he *wanted* to believe, that he seemed to doubt her in a way she never experienced from him before (even early in their partnership, and i’m sorry but she fought for every bit of trust she’s earned from him and it seems to her that fowley didn’t have to do a damn thing to earn his trust & doesn’t deserve it at all)

anyway. all that to say, mulder telling scully about emily’s mother of record, a false record. he’s worried about how emily came to be, who made it happen & why. mulder doesn’t want scully in the line of fire (again).

“i’ve considered that, but i’ve also considered that there’s only one right thing to do.”

“why didn’t you call me sooner”

“because i couldn’t believe it. but i need you now to be a witness on my behalf in this hearing.”

“i should have declined, if i never want to see you hurt or harmed in any way.”

“then why are you here?”

“because i know something that i haven’t said, that they’ll use against you to jeopardize your custody of emily. no matter how much you love this little girl, she’s a miracle that was never meant to be scully.”

he’s afraid of what pursuing this avenue with emily will do to her. he fears what it means for scully, for emily, the conspiracy they stumbled into. but he will always do what she asks of him. and what he says in this hearing for her — scully looks in pain & turmoil the entire time.

“…the fact remains that ms. scully is the mother of this child.”

“not in any legal definition.”

“well if you can show me a legal precedent for this case, i’d like to see it. dana has known for quite some time that she can’t bear children. she hasn’t known why. now, however that happened, the fact that she can adopt this child — her own flesh and blood — is something i don’t feel i have the right to question, and i don’t believe anybody has the right to stand in the way of.”

seeing scully’s reaction to his words is A LOT. first she seems close to falling apart, listening to them talk about her abduction & the consequences of it and then the conviction mulder speaks with about her right to adopt emily & how he believes it is what’s right, after cautioning her against it — speechless, quite honestly. mulder’s empathy & compassion for scully in this is outstanding. he wants to protect her, but not at the cost of what she wants, or honesty & truth, or of hurting their partnership/relationship. the way they help each other face the harsh truths of their lives is fucking beautiful.

“why didn’t you tell me mulder?”

“i never expected this. i thought i was protecting you.”

“why would they do this to me?”

“i only know that genetic experiments were being done, that children were being created.”

“children being created for who?”

“for who? for what? i don’t know.”

she was stunned by the way he spoke for her & defended her rights, but at the same time so hurt he never told her all of this about the experiments & what he learned while she was sick. a truth he shielded her from — something they so rarely if ever do (because truth is the foundation of everything for them) — trying to protect her, to shield her from this truth. it shakes her. i think this is one of his bigger mistakes with her, but at the same time, i don’t know how you could ever tell someone you love about what they unknowingly went through. and in the case of her abduction, she has always shied away from it. not remembering & knowing was terrifying, but learning why she doesn’t remember is part of her finding out what happened to her. she wasn’t prepared for this now, she wasn’t prepared for it during her cancer. these events forced her hand and she still fought it when faced with someone who remembered (penny northern). both of their hands have been forced here, and what easily could have ruined their partnership & trust if they were anyone else, this eventually makes them stronger & closer.

it’s *extremely* interesting that scully gets another call, in mulder’s presence, but there’s no voice, no one speaks. and when mulder gets the call traced to where emily is, they go running and find her with a bad fever. (so again, was it emily reaching out but now that scully is aware of her, she doesn’t need melissa to do the talking?) mulder picking emily up, cradling her against him, holding her head & finding the bump on her neck.

watching mulder fight for scully & emily is my favorite. he isn’t really a violent man, but he doesn’t hesitate to beat the shit out of calderon for refusing to help. and when he follows him, we see alien bounty hunters? and that he’s one of them…surprise, surprise.

“mommy said no more tests” — and that’s why they killed her. emily doesn’t like the tests, and she was suffering. her mom didn’t want to keep putting her through that. she wanted her to have peace for whatever life she had left. her dad wanted her to keep getting the treatment, i assume he didn’t want to give up. and then they needed someone to take the fall, he was perfect for it.

mulder’s ability to put together pieces when there are still so many holes he can’t fill — who else could do this? whoever created emily probably still needs her, they want her alive to continue whatever they’re *really* doing. “for different reasons”

he finds anna fugazzi…a 71 year old woman. he learns all of these women are in hormones & have all had children, after an age that’s typical…

scully fighting for emily — i love moms on a warpath to save/protect their children. i love that we get to see scully like this. the depth of her love is unlike any other.

mulder finds scully’s name wherever anna figazzi is, and an incubated fetus?? in green liquid. god i hate this. poor scully, poor mulder always rising things that will ultimately cause scully pain. but he also has what could treat emily?

scully has made up her mind though. she’s accepted the truth of emily’s ~creation~ and she doesn’t want to make her suffer anymore either, let her be a test subject, let her life be about fulfilling the agenda of cruel men. scully wants to love her and let her have peace. the difficult choices she’s had to make as a mother for emily are too much for anyone.

mulder is there for her, always. however he can be, however she lets him

“who are the men who would create a life whose only hope is to die?”

“i don’t know. but that you found her…and you had a chance to love her, maybe she was meant for that, too.”

“she found me.”

“so you could save her.”

the way mulder can’t look as she opens the casket. it’s too painful for him, he’s afraid of what she’ll find. but he turns back to see her pick up her necklace. the only thing emily could leave scully with to help her through this. mulder & her faith.

[nsfwhiphop]

My Current Mood - No one is afraid of White Supremacist ideology anymore. Shut the fuck up!

Them: "But you're black, you can't have 1.4trillion$ in your bank account, it's forbidden."

Angelo says: "Show me the person who says it's forbidden and I will personally send them to jail, this is the end of white supremacist ideology. You have no idea the war you will start if you try to stop me. Do you want a Nuclear war?"

Them: "No, we don't want a Nuclear war.'

Angelo says: "Did you see Putin in North Korea today?"

Them: "Yes, we saw him, why?"

Angelo says: "Putin is getting ready to bomb the white supremacist nations and you think we are afraid of you. No one fears you anymore. You will shut the fuck up and watch us get rich, sit down and accept your defeat or face a Nuclear bomb on your nations."

You will all face Nuclear annihilation now. Your racism will no longer be tolerated, don't you get it? This is the end of racism.

if you don't believe me, please don't hesitate to call Putin and North Korea, they will tell you they are getting ready to bomb anyone who tries to intervene in Somalia. They will use Nuclear bombs now.

The days of White Supremacist bullying are over.

I'm on the phone with Putin and North Korea and they promised to bomb any nation that tries to use military force in Somalia.

This is the end of injustice and the beginning of Justice for persecuted people all over the world.

If you come near Somalia, Putin and North Korea will launch a Nuclear strike on our enemies, it's a done deal, I spoke to them on the phone a few minutes ago.

Now let me see you get out of this one, I dare you.

You can call Langley CIA and the Pentagon and I promise you that this is the scariest message that they have ever read in their entire existence, we are on the brink of a Nuclear strike on White supremacist nations. I dare you to intervene with your military in Somalia and see if you get away with it this time.

Pentagon is so oblivious. The Russians and North Korea are getting ready for Nuclear strikes.

Langley CIA is so oblivious. The Russians and North Korea are getting ready for Nuclear strikes.

You think that Russia and North Korea are meeting today just for fun?

No, they are meeting to talk about Nuclear strikes on their enemies, they are ready to settle the beef with their enemies, using Nuclear.

North Korea has Nuclear bombs that can destroy 15% of American territory.

Russia has Nuclear bombs that can destroy 85% of American territory.

So if you add 15% + 85% = 100% of the American territory will be bombed, the end of White supremacist injustice.

You think this world will be the same in the next few months?

Anything is possible now, at any moment they can push the Nuclear button. Be prepared for anything at any moment.

You will get bombed and there is no coming back from this humiliation, the end of white supremacist injustice.

Done deal. Nuclear strike.

Fuck around and find out. Your injustice has to end today.

We will defeat your so-called superpower nation, show no mercy to racist fuckers.

P.S.:

Read this article today:

[peterparkersnose]

Pink Bra Strap

(pt. 3)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: horrible 2004 pop culture references, sexual harrasment, assault, intimidation

a/n i went feral writing this. i hope you guys go feral reading it. thank you to the commenter on the previous chapter who reccomended a prom themed chapter. most likely not writing a part 4. i was stupid and used all the klitz prom gifs for the other fics. its cool tho. thank you guys for all the love on the klitztent!

summary y/n and klitz go to prom

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read time: 6 mins 46 seconds

part 2 part 1

Prom Season. Every girl’s favorite time of year, right? Wrong. Making sure the dress is perfect, scheduling hair, makeup, nail appointments. Finding a date. It’s all so stressful. 

You had heard around that your ex-boyfriend, Ryan, wanted to ask you to prom. The thing about Ryan is that he just isn’t your type- anymore. You and Ryan were on again off again since Freshman year, but you finally called it quits when you found him fucking Amanda Langley in his car eight months ago. The only date you had in mind would cause you to die socially- but be freed in your own wants. 

***

You sighed and rolled over on Klitz’s bed. You snapped your phone shut, throwing it next to your head. Klitz looked up from his book. 

“Why do you have so many holes in your ceiling?” you asked him, counting the tiny marks. 

“I used to have posters up there,” he said, returning to his book. “What kind of posters?” you asked, swirling your glue on nail lightly on his sock. His foot jolted back. “Stuff I’d cut out from playboys I used to steal from my neighbors,” Klitz sighed, putting down his book. “Why’d you take them down?” you asked, sitting up to meet Klitz’s gaze. “I have no reason for them anymore,” he blushed. “And why’s that?” you smirked, brushing your hand on his knee. “I have my own, personal, bunny.” 

You let out a soft breathe of air as a laugh, and kissed Klitz. He tasted like beef jerky and pepsi. You giggled to yourself. “Mom make pot roast for lunch?” you asked him, leaning your head on his beant knee. “How’d you know?” he asked. You were about to make a snarky comment when your ringtone went off. Klitz rolled his eyes as you reached for it. 

“Hello?” “Hey, babe.” 

You rolled your eyes. Ryan. 

“Hey Ryan, what’s up.” you asked in a monotone voice. “Look outside.” he said. You could sense the pride in his voice. “I’m not home right now.” you sighed. Klitz began to needily pull at your arm, pulling you closer to him. You giggled. 

“What was that?” Ryan said. You could feel the anger rising in his voice. “Uhh, nothing. I’m at Jessica’s.” you lied. Klitz started to pull at the waist of your jeans. You slapped his hand away.

“When are you going to be home?” Ryan asked. “Never,” Klitz yelled from the background. “Shut up.” you muttered to Klitz, holding your hand over the speaker of the phone. 

“I-I’m not sure Ryan. What do you want?” you asked, now annoyed. Klitz kissed at your bare shoulder, making you lean your head into his in effort to detach his lips. “I’m asking you to prom, shawty.” 

You internally cringed at the shawty.

“Oh- uh prom?” you said loudly. Klitz stopped forming the hickey on your shoulder and perked up. “I dunno. I’m sorry Ryan, I’ll have to get back to you on that-” you said, but Klitz grabbed your waist and pulled you close. “Really not a great time right now I’m sorry,” you said quickly, with Klitz’s hand inching up your forearm to grab your phone. You hung up.

“Do you know how to behave?” you questioned Klitz, sliding into his embrace. “No. I do not. Teach me a lesson,” he seductively said, moving so you could lay next to him with his arm around you. “Pervert,” you joked, taking his hand in yours. 

“He asked you to prom?” Klitz asked. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to take him to prom. He was still thanking the gods who blessed him with just an ounce of your attention. He didn’t want to ask too much of you. “Yeah.” you sighed. “You don’t have to go with me. I know,” he sighed. You turned to look up at his beautiful green eyes. “Klitz, I want to take you. More than anything. But Jessica got me elected on prom court and-” “I understand,” he smiled, cutting you off. You could tell he was hurt, but he was too nice to let you know. 

“I wish it could be different. Another way,” you sighed. 

“I’ll be there though. With Eli. Maybe Matt. Just incase you want a quickie in the bathroom.” Klitz said. You could feel the hurt undertones in his joking manner. “Klitz that’s not what-” “I’m joking.” he said, managing out a small smile. 

“Text him, tell him you can go.” “Are you sure?” you asked, feeling like you were hurting the man you loved the most. “Yeah. Just don’t fuck him. I don’t want to catch some random shit off of him.” 

You playfully hit him in the arm and settled back down in his arms. You just knew the guilt would eat you alive. 

***

Your dress was blue. It was strapless, and had a gem waistline. The satin fabric was scrunched at the top, creating a ripple illusion. Your hair was done up in tight curls that were pinned up on your head. Your makeup consisted of blue eyeshadow, a foundation probably a color too dark for you, thick eyeliner and clumpy mascara. The epitome of 2004 prom fashion. 

You sighed as you watched Chad’s truck pull up in your driveway. Jessica leaped out, running for a hug. She looked almost identical, but her dress was pink.

“Oh my god! You look so hot,” she said, squealing with you in your driveway. Ryan leaned up against the truck, holding the corsage in his hand. 

“You look smokin.” he said, staring directly at your tits. You mentally rolled your eyes and thanked him. Your mother came out and took too many pictures to count. You just knew these would end up on your mantel in about a month. And it wasn’t with Klitz. 

Klitz sat in his car, waiting for Eli to come out of his house. Matt and Danielle were sitting in the back of his car, swooning over each other. Klitz tried to ignore the constant no your cuter, no your cuter staring around Eli’s neighborhood.

The thing about Eli’s neighborhood is that you were his neighbor. Well, across the street and two houses down. Klitz tried to just pay attention and watch Eli’s closed garage door, but Danielle ruined it. 

“Hey, isn’t that Y/N? Klitz?” she asked, turning around in the minivan. And there you were. Looking like a fucking princess, a princess Klitz couldn’t have. Klitz almost threw up when he saw your arm around Ryans. Jealousy filled him, but the sweet reminder you gave him the night before reminded him that you only wanted him. You only wanted Klitz. He repeated that in his head a few times and turned around. Eli finally came out of his house. 

“Bye mom! I’ll be home by 12!” he yelled, waving to his mother. “Y/N looks like a babe, dude.” Eli said, buckling into the car. “Can we just go?” Klitz complained, whipping the car out of Eli’s driveway and b-lining it for the school. 

***

Pre-prom was taking place in the parking lot. Parents cooking out, music, couples not-so-secretly making out in their car. Eli insisted coming early to get his free brat. 

Klitz was propped against his mini van. Eli was downing another hot dog next to him, relish almost spilling on his suit. “Look at her, man.” he sighed. You were sitting with Ryan in Chad’s open bed. “She looks fucking miserable,” Eli said, mouth full. 

Ryan was making a horrible attempt of talking to you. “How’s your mom?” “Looks like your tits got bigger from the last time I’ve seen ‘em” “You wanna get out of here?” “I brought a 10 pack if you want,” 

You turned down every single attempt at a conversation. You wanted your Klitzy. 

The crowd started to tune down as prom was due to start in about 10 minutes. Ryan was pestering you, trying to get you to ditch.

“The fuck is your problem tonight?” he finally cracked, slamming his hand next to your head on the truck. The loud bang would have been noticeable 20 minutes ago, but the commotion made it almost silent. Except to Klitz. When he heard a loud noise come from your direction, he immediately dipped from his group to go investigate. 

“Ryan, what are you doing?” you asked, scared. “You’ve been a little bitch all night. Am I not enough, huh?” he asked, pushing himself up on you against the truck. “Ryan stop!” you yelled, hitting him. His big physique towered over you, making your punches useless. “Your gonna be a good little bitch, you got that?” he said, gripping your arm tightly. You made a cry for help as Ryan’s attention was pulled away. 

“Let her go.”

You recognized that voice, you would recognize it anywhere. Oh, Klitz.

Ryan scoffed and moved away from you. “The fuck you gonna do about it, Klitz?” he asked, puffing up his chest. 

In one swift movement, Klitz moved his arm back and used every force in his body to come down on Ryan’s face. He stuttered back, releasing you from his grip. You ducked behind Klitz as he made the ultimate, nerdy move. 

Remember how Klitz is accident prone, right? He’s always prepared. He took his little bottle of spray neosporin out of his coat pocket and released the pin. All over Ryan’s face and in his eyes sprayed the disinfectant. 

You looked at Klitz in amazement, and watched Ryan fall to the concrete crying in pain. “I could fucking kiss you right now,” you breathed. “Then do it,”

Your hands floated to Klitz’s cheeks. He outstretched his hands, dropping the neosporin can and moving his cuffs down. His hands then carefully wrapped around your hair, kissing you more passionately than ever. 

“What the fuck!” Ryan cried, finally coming to his senses. 

“Run” you both yelled at the same time, leaving half blinded and bruised Ryan in the dust. Finally making it back to the doors, almost everyone was in prom already. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Klitz asked. You squeezed his hand. “1000%”

The gym doors opened dramatically. Everyone immediately looked at the two of you coming in. Your hands were wrapped tightly together. Klitz had your lipstick stained on his mouth. Eli’s mouth was gaped open, shocked at the sight. Jessica looked like she was going to pass out, holding onto Chad’s jacket. The girls on the cheerleading team giggled and gossiped about the two of you. The group of dateless nerds stared in shock. Klitz had done the unimaginable. 

The two of you didn’t care. You made your way to the dancefloor. 

Mr. Brightsides by The Killers was blaring. (so 2004 am i right?)

You felt so happy with him. More happy than you ever were with Ryan. You two joined the dancefloor and started laughing amongst yourselves about the response of everyone. Everyone just stared. You smirked, taking Klitz into your embrace once more. You kissed him in front of the whole school. 

The cheerleaders gasped, the nerds cheered. 

The night was good. 

Klitz totally got grinded on, btw. Blew his ever loving mind. 

-

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @beenz-beenz @nikonluvsdano

[the-iceni-bitch]

PLEASEEE write more for august walker! i'm in love with the banter in "welcome home, walker" and how he's grumpy but has a soft spot for the reader. LOVE UR OTHER WORKS TOO <33

Aww, I love Auggie! And it has been a bit since I wrote for him. Soooooo...

PDA

Pairing: August Walker x fem!Reader

Words: 2145

Summary: You and Auggie go out with the graduating cadets to celebrate your new assignment.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (innuendo, teasing, sex in a public place, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex), violence (fistfight, implication of gore and death), betrayal, protective!Auggie, TW- implication of impending date rape/mentions of drugs, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: This got away from me a bit if I’m being honest. I was just gonna do the teasing in the gym but I couldn’t stop myself, so please enjoy this little impromptu fic! And please feel free to send me an ask if there’s a character or kink or anything you’d like to see more of! 

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist here if you want!

You didn’t know how he got you in this position. You could practically feel him beaming over you as you struggled to get out of the hold he had you in. 

“You keep moving like that, you’re gonna make me hard, sweetheart. You want me to fuck you right here on the mat?”

August ground his crotch against your ass to illustrate his point and you let out a moan. Your arms were bent back at your shoulders unnaturally as you scrabbled for some purchase to get out of his grip.

“Fuck off, Auggie. You know the only reason you’re on top right now is because I didn’t get any sleep.” Maybe if you arched your back a little...

August groaned in your ear as your ass rubbed against his growing erection. 

“Shit, Y/N. The director is right there.”

You turned your head as much as you could to see Sloane standing at the gym entrance, surveying the cadets as they practiced their sparring. You wiggled your ass again, making Auggie growl at you.

“You’re not giving me a lot of options, baby. You know my brain doesn’t work when I’m sleep deprived.”

He grumbled and you felt him start to loosen the hold he had on your arms. You grinned to yourself as you wrapped one arm behind his neck, gripping the hair at the base of his scalp and rolling forward. You heard him give a small sound of surprise as you flipped him over, knocking all the air out of his lungs when you slammed him into the mat and wrapping your body around his shoulders, stretching him to the point of pain. 

“Damn it, I thought we were done.”

“I don’t remember tapping out, sweetie.” You gripped his wrist and stretched his arm even further as you squeezed your thighs around his neck. 

He wheezed for a second before a wicked grin spread over his face. “Y’know, when you get me in these holds, I can smell you, and it drives me fucking crazy.”

You almost loosened your hold at his admission but caught yourself at the last second. “August...” you growled in warning.

“I know you’re soaked under these sweats, sweetheart.” He turned his head as much as your hold would allow, running his nose along the inseam of your sweats until you released him with a hiss.

“Fine, it’s a draw.” You mumbled, drawing yourself to your feet as he chuckled darkly. “Equipment room in 5?”

“Walker, Y/L/N, with me.” Sloane gave a beckoning motion and the two of you moved to follow, sighing with frustration. 

You moved with the director as she marched back towards her office, shooting each other apprehensive looks as you considered what she may want to talk to you about.

“Good news you two.” Sloane announced as she closed the door to her office behind you. “We finally managed to get the heat off you from Interpol, and you’re set for a new assignment in Brazil.” She handed you your files detailing the op. “Looks like there’s a Syndicate group operating there, moving weapons through the black market there. You ship out in two days. Please do your best to remember, Syndicate members are assets, not targets.”

“Right, boss.” You murmured, flipping through your ID docs. August just grunted beside you.

“Alright, I heard the two of you are going out with the graduating cadets and trainers tonight to celebrate the end of the course. Don’t overdo it.” She gave you a knowing wink before you turned to leave the office.

“I think she knows about us.” August whispered as the two of you headed to your lockers.

You just laughed at him. “Auggie, honey, we’re the worst kept secret at Langley.” 

“Y/N, Walker, I hear congrats are in order! We’re gonna miss the two of you in training!” Melissa managed to find out everything as soon as it happened, you didn’t know how she got stuck in training instead of the field. “I’ll make sure everyone buys you a round at the club tonight.”

You groaned at that, those goddamn trainers would have you passed out if they got their way. You slammed your locker closed and turned back to August. 

“Meet you at the club, baby. Make sure to do your reading first!” You called over your shoulder as you headed out.

You arrived at the club 4 hours later to see August looking incredibly uncomfortable in the middle of a group of rowdy cadets. You tutted to yourself as you approached him, he always had a stick up his ass.

He saw you then, and his face relaxed as he walked to meet you.

“You’re late.” He grumbled as the two of you headed to the bar. “You know how much I hate talking to these kids.”

“Relax, grandpa.” You smiled before turning to order yourself a gin and tonic. “You gonna dance at all tonight, or just stand there glowering?”

He scoffed into his scotch as you grinned at him, moving closer and rubbing your foot over his calf suggestively. 

“Don’t you start something you’re not prepared to finish, beautiful.”

Just then, Melissa arrived with a tray full of tequila shots, and you let out a groan. This was the second time you got cock blocked today, and you were starting to get frustrated. 

“Look what I’ve got for you!” she said gleefully as the two of you winced at her.

“Melissa, I’ve told you a million times, I don’t do tequila.”

“C’mon, it’s your last night with us, just a couple.”

You took a deep breath and grabbed a shot for yourself, giving August a shrug before tossing it back. He hissed between his teeth as he downed his own.

“Fuck me, you sure this isn’t rubbing alcohol? Jesus, Melissa!”

She just handed the two of you two more with a giggle, and clapped her hands when you swallowed them. Before you knew it she was dragging you towards the dance floor, your head fuzzy from the tequila as you instructed August to watch your cocktail. He gave you a grin before turning back to the bar, but that quickly changed once he noticed movement in your glass.

August clenched his jaw as his arm shot out to grab the cadet that was wandering away from the bar, wrapping his fist around his upper arm with a vise-like grip.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He growled, a menacing glare taking over his face.

“Get your hand off me, man.” The frat boy idiot actually looked offended as he glanced down at August’s hand.

Walker just tightened his grip as he patted the asshole down, cocking an eyebrow as he pulled a tiny baggie of tablets out of his breast pocket.

“Graham, right? What’s a senator’s nephew doing with… what is this? GHB? Molly?”

“Look, buddy.” The moron gave him a grin like he was his friend as August stared him down. “That piece of ass needs some loosening up. I bet she’s a tiger in the sack.”

August threw your drink in his face before hauling him outside. He considered letting you handle it yourself, but he wanted to let off some steam.

He didn’t say anything, just punched the smarmy bastard in the face. The idiot didn’t even try to defend himself, pathetic.

“What the fuck?! You broke my nose!” Graham held a hand to his face as he stared at Walker in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s not all I’m gonna do to you.” He growled as he set to work.

Five minutes later he stood over his handiwork, wiping the blood off his knuckles as he let out a sigh. That had gotten a little out of hand.

“Fuck.” He muttered, pulling his burner out of his suit pocket and dialing. “Yeah, this is Lark. Send a cleanup crew to the alley outside Sketch. Yeah, some senator’s nephew.” He frowned over the phone. “Because it’s a fucking order.” He hung up, not bothering to wait for the Syndicate’s sanitation team before heading back into the club to find you.

He found you on the dance floor and a hungry sneer came over his face. He strode toward you and wrapped a possessive hand around your throat from behind, drawing you fast against his chest and growling into your ear. You whined as he pulled you away from the group, Melissa beaming at the two of you like an idiot.

“Have fun you two!” She called as August steered you around a corner.

He pressed you into the wall behind a column, his mouth devouring yours as he slotted his knee between your legs. You whimpered as he shoved a hand in the front of your blouse, squeezing your breast viciously before tweaking your nipple to the point of your pain as you arched into his hand.

“Fuck, Auggie. What happened?” You were panting with need as he moved his face down to bury in your neck, his teeth scraping over your throat.

“I’ll tell you later. Are you still drunk?” He moved his other hand to the apex of your thighs and groaned against your chest when he felt your slick coated folds. You weren’t wearing any panties.

“No, the dancing burned most of it off. Shit.” You hissed as he inserted two fingers inside you, stretching you open as he fumbled with his zipper. “Can’t even make it to the bathroom, huh?”

“Sorry sweetheart.” He mumbled as he freed his dick from his slacks. “Sure seems like you were expecting this, though.”

He moved his lips to yours and swallowed your cry as he dipped his hips and plunged into you. His hands wrapped around your thighs and lifted them to wrap around him as he started to move his hips. He tried to move slow so it wasn’t obvious what the two of you were doing, but those goddamn tiny whimpers you were making into his mouth were making it hard for him to control himself.

“God, this cunt feels better every time I’m in it. Fuck.” You were clenching around him with each thrust and your breath was coming in ragged gasps, letting him know you were close. “Jesus Christ, it’s barely been a minute. You’re so fucking sensitive.” He nipped at your bottom lip and stilled his hips for a beat as he teased you.

You slapped his bicep playfully and whined. “Shut the fuck up and move, asshole.”

He braced one hand on the wall and drew his hips back slowly before slamming into you. You buried your face in his neck to muffle your scream as you came apart. Your pussy fluttered around him as every muscle went rigid. He felt you sobbing against him as your muscles quivered in your release, his hips still setting a punishing pace as he fucked you through it.

“Shit, honey.” He murmured against your cheek as you came down. “You make it so easy.”

Your snort turned into a whimper as a particularly deep thrust had him kissing your cervix. “Fuck, Auggie.”

“Yeah, right there?”

You nodded vigorously as your face screwed up in bliss, leaning it back against the wall as he picked up the pace.

His cock was dragging against that sweet spot inside you with each thrust and it was all you could focus on. Your thighs squeezed around him as he brought you closer and closer to another orgasm. He loved watching you take it, getting completely lost in your pleasure. And knowing he was the one doing this to you was just icing on the cake.

“You close, gorgeous?” He asked, feeling his own imminent release looming.

“Shit, shit!”

He was extremely grateful for the loud music as you screamed in your release. He swallowed a shout of his own as his cock twitched and his cum spurted into you, painting your insides as his hips faltered and he collapsed against you.

“Jesus.” You whispered as you set your feet on the floor, August still sheathed in you as he softened. “Public sex, who knew?”

You felt his chest rumble against you as he gave a low chuckle, sliding out of you gently before he tucked himself back into his slacks. He ducked his head to give you a tender kiss as he drew down the hem of your skirt over your thighs.

“We should go back to your place.” He whispered after he released you, leaving you breathless.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but I’m totally fine with it. Lemme just say goodbye to Melissa.”

He grinned as he watched you saunter away, your gait a little wobbly as you tried to keep his cum from leaking out of you. He was really looking forward to your new assignment. The thought of being cooped up with you for several months was making him hard already.

Tags:

@slothspaghettiwrites @stargazingfangirl18 @starlightcrystalline @jack-skellingtons-stuff @drabblewithfrannybarnes @captain-asguard @harrysthiccthighss @bonkywobble @dslap65 @stanallstarks @macgruberrr @blackestpinkworld @wanderinglunarnights @sebslut @allinhishands

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Resident Geniuses

Summary: When the BAU is called to NYC for a case, they weren’t expecting to have to pair up with the local Interpol team. Spencer wasn’t expecting to meet his female counterpart

Word Count: 1496

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content, Talks of Murder Case and Crime

Requested: Yes/No

“The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” -Albert Einstein 

~

The BAU team was in New York working on a case. The city had yet another serial killer demanding their attention. The team was set up in the FBI field office, trying to lay down a profile. Unfortunately, this unsub would dump the bodies in New Jersey, making him harder to pinpoint. The team was getting closer until the next body showed up. Same MO and signature, but the victimology was completely different. 

Then the local Interpol team arrived. Hotch and the woman in charge of the other team went head-to-head almost immediately.

“The man who was murdered is an international art thief. That makes this our jurisdiction, Agent Hotchner.”

“But he crossed the state line into Jersey. That makes this our jurisdiction, Agent Langley.”

“Um, Maura, Agent Hotchner?” a shy woman towards the back of the group spoke up. “You’re missing the obvious solution of us working together,” she said. “Wouldn’t collaboration help us both reach our goal?”

Agent Langley looked at the woman. “You’re right, Doc.” She sighed. “Agent Hotchner, we should pair up our teams to combine what we know and what you know.”

After a bit of discussion, Maura and Hotch returned to the two gathered teams. 

“Morgan, Prentiss, you are going with Agent MacKenzie and Agent Leavitt to the crime scene,” Hotch said.

“Lorenzo, you’re staying here with Agent Jareau to keep the media at bay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Reid, you’re staying here with Doctor (L/N).” Spencer’s head snapped up when he heard Hotch addressing him. Spencer looked over at you. You were sitting at a table, going through the FBI’s files. Spencer thought the way your brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. Just looking at you put butterflies in his stomach.

The two teams split up. Tanner MacKenzie, a man who was like your brother, patted your shoulder on his way out. 

“Good luck, Doc.” He looked at Spencer. “I’m sorry man, she’s gonna drive you mad before the end of the day.”

You flipped him off as you took a seat and looked through the files. “Why don’t you bugger off and go catch up to Steph.” It was the first time Spencer was really noticing your accent. 

After the other agents cleared out of the conference room, Spencer cleared his throat. “So, Dr. (L/N)-”

“Oh, (Y/N), please,” you interrupted him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just don’t like the formality.”

He smiled at you. Spencer found you so endearing. “Call me Spencer.”

~

You and Spencer got along like a wildfire. While the two of you worked, Spencer learned that you were from a small town in Northern England but that you went to Oxford for your degrees. You just about matched him, with 3 PhDs and 4 Master’s degrees. 

He learned that your nickname was Doc, but only your team could call you that. He learned about your family and how hard it was for you to be an ocean away from them.

You laughed at all Spencer’s jokes, and you actually understood them. Spencer had never met anyone he got along with as quickly or as easily. You were intelligent, funny, and beautiful. And when the team finally got back to the hotel for the night, you were the only thing on Spencer’s mind.

Spencer looked up at the hotel ceiling, realizing he was truly, completely, unequivocally, fucked.

~

When Spencer arrived at the office the next morning, the Interpol team was already there. They were rushing around the office, functioning as a well-oiled machine. 

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked. 

“There was a double murder last night,” Agent Langley informed him. “Both were women. One has ties to a crime ring my team has been investigating, the other doesn’t. Both fit your preliminary profile for victimology.”

“This changes our whole outlook. We need to sit down, all of us, and discuss this.”

Once everyone settled at a conference table, Hotch said, “So, start giving me theories. Why the seemingly random kill before reverting back to his original victimology?”

“Was he a victim of opportunity?” Morgan asked. “Or he got in the way and needed to be eliminated?”

You shook your head. “No. Marcel Delacroix is -was- a recluse. He only left his apartment for jobs.”

“A hit job?” Prentiss suggested. “Maybe the unsub was hired by someone to take the art thief out?”

“That could be possible,” Agent MacKenzie said with a nod. “The world of an art thief is competitive, much like the world of the one making the art. Jobs can be hard to come by, especially if people know someone is good, like Delacroix.”

“But that brings up another question- what is this unsub’s true motive?” Jason Gideon asked. 

You were muttering under your breath, looking at the case file. 

“What’s going on up there, Doc?” MacKenzie asked. 

“Can I see the information on the previous victims again?” Hotch slid the files over to you. The BAU watched as you arranged the photos around the table. 

“What is she doing?” Prentiss asked.

“It’s her process. It only makes sense to her, but her genius always pulls through,” Langley said.

“Sounds familiar.” Morgan nudged Spencer, who was just watching you work. “Reid?”

“What? Sorry, I was trying to see if I could figure out what connections she made.”

“I got it!” you said. “None of these are random. They’re all linked to the same crime family.” You went on a spiel about how they all connect, and who the unsub was. “The only problem is, we don’t know where to find him.”

“Leave that to us,” Hotch said.

~

The two teams worked together to bring the unsub into custody. Thankfully, he didn’t make things harder for everyone until he was put in restraints. 

“Well, good work, Agent Hotchner,” Maura said, holding her hand out to shake the man’s. 

“You too, Agent Langley. It was nice to work alongside your team.

“Likewise. Well, I guess we should be going back to our own office. We have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

Before your team left, you walked over to Spencer. “You know, Dr. Reid, that cell phone in your hands can be used for more than just work,” you said in a low voice. You handed him a card, brushing your fingers against his. It sent a shock through Spencer. “Goodbye, everyone! It was nice working with you!” She waved to the BAU before following her team out of the FBI office. 

Spencer smiled as he watched her leave. He looked down at the business card you gave him, your personal number scrawled on the bottom. In Roman Numerals. He tucked the card in his pocket before his team saw. 

~

“Hey, has anyone seen Reid this morning?” Hotch asked the team as they waited for the jet to be ready at the airstrip. 

“No, I thought he left for the hotel with Morgan last night,” JJ told him.

“He told me he was riding back with you,” Morgan said. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” Spencer said, running over to the team. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s not usually like you. Are you okay?” JJ asked. 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just overslept.”

Gideon squinted at him. “You’re wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday.”

Spencer looked down at his rumpled clothes. “I, uh, I fell asleep reading last night and didn’t have time to change this morning.”

“Is that a hickey?” Emily asked him. Spencer’s hand flew up to cover the dark spot on his neck.

“No way, Pretty Boy has a hickey?”

Spencer’s face was bright red. “Shut up, Morgan.”

“So… Tell us about her!” JJ said.

“Yeah, who’s the lucky lady?” Morgan asked him.

“Um…”

“Guys. If Reid doesn’t want to tell us who he’s sleeping with, he doesn’t have to. As long as it isn’t interfering with his job.” Hotch gave Reid a pointed look. 

He shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Good. And I don’t want to hear any of you pestering Reid about it.”

The team climbed onto the jet. After everyone got settled, most falling asleep, Gideon took a seat next to Reid. 

“So, how was your night with Dr. (L/N)?” he asked.

“How did you-”

“You’re not that discrete, Spencer.” Gideon gave him a soft smile. 

Spencer smiled back. “She’s amazing. She makes me feel… normal. I don’t feel like I’m weird or just a brain with her.”

“She sounds like a lovely girl. Why don’t you want to tell the others about her?”

Spencer sighed, looking out at the clouds. “I guess I just want something for myself for a bit. I really care for (Y/N) and I know how invasive the team can be. I don’t want them to scare her away.”

“I don’t think they could scare her away if they tried. She’s perfect for you.”

~

“Never give up on something you can’t go a day without.” -Winston Churchill

[whimsywispsblog]

Abducted

Pairing: Adler x Reader

Words: 1115

"FUCK YOU, AND FUCK YOUR 'GREATER GOOD' BULLSHIT, ADLER!" (Y/N) spat, turning away from him angrily. Adler let out a low growl, grabbing his sunglasses, walking away from his partner, and harshly shut the door behind him.

This was the 100th fight the couple had since the previous month after Adler killed Bell despite (Y/N) telling him not to. They had assisted the team with Bell's MK-Ultra. They had seen what it does to the subject and how it tears them down- losing their identity, losing their will and being forced to fit a mould that Adler wanted. Not just that, they had also helped Mason temporarily break away from the effects of MK-Ultra that he was forced to endure, and it was the most horrible thing they'd ever witnessed.

Of course, (Y/N) was definitely aware of the importance of war crimes and how working with the clandestine operatives meant they had to shed or suppress their humanity. But it could have been avoided. Bell could have been more of an asset than a liability. Their point was proven when Bell gave the correct answer- Solovetsky, which was, unfortunately, their key to the afterlife. An unfair death. Adler had always warned them on how they were never supposed to get emotionally compromised with their assets, but for (Y/N), a person who deals with a shit ton of emotions and minds of different people- broken soldiers, lost children and crestfallen prisoners of war and many more.

But today, the fight of humanity versus the necessary war crimes had gone so far that Adler had intentionally (or unintentionally) told them that they 'don't belong to the CIA'. What a horrible thing to say to someone who had lived their life on the field?!

(Y/N) sat down dejected and miserable. 'What if Adler was right? What if I am not good enough and am just pulling the group back because of my emotions?' As more questions buzzed through their mind, (Y/N)'s attention was drawn to the opening of the doorknob. Thinking that it was Adler, they looked away, quickly wiping off their tears. But it was then that they realised it wasn't Adler, but someone else: A stranger wearing a mask. And before (Y/N) could react, the man lunged at them, pinning them down. (Y/N) tried to kick and bit, but all was useless for the man was much stronger and bigger. With one smack from the butt of his gun, he knocked them out and hastily carried them away, shoving them into a van.

-

Adler returned home after a long drive with a tub of ice cream for (Y/N). He knew that he crossed the line this time and that maybe he should have been calmer and less arrogant when telling (Y/N) his side of the story. After all, it was understandable why they both would never meet eye-to-eye on the topic of MK-Ultra: He was an operative, and to him, MK-Ultra is just a tool to get closer to his target. For (Y/N), however, MK-Ultra was like Death's Scythe, which she had to shield and undo from several POWs that came home.

As he parked in front of his home, something was different. The door was left opened ajar. H clearly remembered closing it behind him, and if (Y/N) had to go out somewhere, they would have shut it, not left it open. Pulling his spare pistol from under his seat, Adler carefully walked into his house stealthily and quietly. No mess, except for the dining table and the chairs. And a few drops of blood.

Hasty kill. Quick, not very precise.

Adler's stomach dropped. (Y/N) wasn't there at home. They could be out there anywhere and maybe in danger! He quickly rushed to his satellite phone, dialling a number.

"Sims, they've got (Y/N). Call the rest of the team and see if you can find something and look through the CCTV footage. I'll be in Langley in 5."

-

"Yep, must be an amateur. A poorly executed kidnap plan." Said Sims, looking through the footage. "Ha! The asshole has parked in front. Lemme see if I can get the numbers on the plate," Sims chuckled. On any other Occasion, Adler would have smirked or shaken his head at the stupidities. Still, today, he just couldn't dwell into the humour of the situation.

"Alright, let me see if the rest of the cameras on the roads have tracked this number plate," He said, looking into another tab and dialling Hudson, reporting the findings to him.

"Sims, Adler. We've found it," Hudson said, walking into the room towards Adler after an hour. "It is an abandoned house, 2 hours away from the traffic."

"I'll get there in an hour," Adler said, taking the address from Hudson.

-

(Y/N) looked around groggily. The bright lights hurt their eyes, and their mouth felt dry and hot. Coughing and wheezing, they finally adjusted to their surroundings. It was dusty and dirty. And hot. They were tied up, and they could hardly move.

The man walked towards them, his mask still on. He leaned over (Y/N), his hands on either side of them.

"So this is Adler's little pet, eh?" He chuckled darkly, looking them up and down. He caressed their face roughly, but (Y/N) bit their nose hard, making the man scream in pain. His hand in their hair, he pulled them off his nose. (Y/N) bit off a chunk and spat it out, blood smeared all over their mouth. The man touched his aching nose softly, groaning a little and walked towards (Y/N), landing a harsh blow to their face.

The man kneeled next to (Y/N), his knee on top of their wrist, putting enough pressure to make them shout. He grabbed their face and was about to land another blow, but before he could, a bullet grazed through his arm, making him wince in pain.

"Fuck me," He groaned, looking at his arm.

"With pleasure," Said another voice who shot the man in the head, making his blood splatter over (Y/N) as he lay dead.

"Adler, I thought I said ', do not kill the kidnapper!' We needed to interrogate-!"

"Cry me a river," Adler said, walking towards (Y/N) and untying them. "You alright?"

"Yeah." (Y/N) said, wrapping their hands around Adler. His smoky-musky scent helped them calm down, along with the gentle rubs. Planting a soft kiss on their forehead, Adler looked at them with a gentle smile.

"Let's go home?"

"Yes, please. Can we get some ice cream on the way?" (Y/N) said as they up with Adler's help.

"I bought an entire tub. Mint chocolate."

"My favourite!" (Y/N) squealed, nuzzling their face in Adler's neck.

[justthehiddleswrites]

I Like It Neat | Jonathan Pine x Reader | A FrostHiddles Collab

A/N:  A collab with the amazing @frostbitten-written​  

Pairing:  Jonathan Pine x Reader

Summary:  You never expected to get this entrenched in Roper's entourage, but here you were. Better yet, you caught the eye of Richard Roper's right-hand man, Jonathan Pine. You weren't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but you were sure of this: Pine likes his suits and whisky, neat and his martinis and sex, dirty.

Warnings: Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial,Orgasm Delay, Punishment,Pet Names, Comeplay, Come Swallowing, Face-Fucking, Name-Calling, Choking, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking

Taglists are open for both me and frostbitten!  Let us know if you want to be tagged!  Thank you for reading!

-

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Pine whispered as he pressed the hotel room key card into your hand. “I expect you to be wearing only your heels and stockings.”  

You did your best not to stare at him, shocked. It’s not that you didn’t want to sleep with Pine, because you did; your pussy could attest to that one. The problem, however, was how exactly would you explain that detail, in your report, back to Langley? Your eyes dropped to the keycard in your hand, contemplating whether you should do as he asked or walk out the front entrance of the hotel. Jonathan smacked your ass, causing you to let loose a small yelp.

“Clock is ticking, kitten,” he purred into your ear before taunting you, “at this rate, you’ll never make it on time.”

With haste, you made your way towards the bank of elevators, your heels clacking frantically against the polished marble floor. Roper turned his attention to Pine as he watched you disappear behind a column.

“Everything alright there, Pine old boy?” Roper questioned in his usual suave manner.

Pine offered a thin-lipped smile. “Just sending her off to fetch something from my room.” He pulled his phone from his pants pocket. “I’m going to check on our shipments.” He walked away before Roper called out to him.

“We have reservations in an hour!”

“No need to remind me; I’ll be present.”  Pine disappeared from view and headed for the elevators.  

You were in the middle of unclasping your bra, when you heard the door opening. You scrambled to finish taking it off and tossed it onto the chair, along with your dress and underwear. Upon his entrance, Pine stopped and stared, drinking in the sight of you, practically naked. His lips curled into a smile, but not a warm smile. There was something sinister brewing beneath the surface.  

“Good job, kitten,” he commented casually.  

You thought he would approach you, but instead, he strolled over to the wet bar and poured himself a drink. He settled on the sofa about six feet away from you. He swirled his drink and took a sniff. His eyes raked the expanse of your body. You felt like a piece of meat on display for a lion. He beckoned you over with his fingers, using the “come hither��� motion. You scampered over and stood next to him, waiting patiently for his next move.  

“I saw you, back in Spain, and on the plane.” His voice was low and his tone, confident; it sounded like the purr of a car engine. He swirled his drink again.  

“Saw me what?” You questioned, panicking inwardly. Had Pine seen you sneak into Roper’s private office? Was your cover blown? Your head swirled as you contemplated the ramifications of Pine’s next words. You mentally plotted an escape plan where you’d come out of this entire ordeal alive and intact, which included all your major organs. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you almost missed what he said next.

“Fucking me with your eyes.” He gazed up at you and smiled; there it was again that same sinister smile. “I can tell you want me, kitten.” You stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth hanging slightly ajar, in shock. He continued. “You have one hour before I am due back downstairs for a meeting. Put on a good show and I’ll reward you with the fucking you desperately desire.” He practically purred as he made an offer your nethers couldn’t resist.

“I beg your pardon?” You protested but grew wet with his every word. Damn his voice, you cursed in your head.

Pine had his suspicions about you, about your intentions and reason for getting close to him, close to Roper. He wanted to push your limits and test you, to see how far you would go to maintain your cover story. So far, he was impressed with your dedication. Above all, he found him growing more attracted to you as the days went by. So with the opportunity presented to the both of you, the stage was set.

“You can get off however you want, but don’t wrinkle the suit,” Pine growled out in a deep voice. “I like my suit like I like my scotch; neat, and I like my women like I like my martini; dirty,” he stated sternly before smirking and winking at you. He held out two fingers, expectantly; that mother fucker knew exactly what game he was playing at and you were going to lose; you just knew it. 

Pine sat there, nonchalantly holding his drink in one hand, and sipped it slowly. It was, no doubt an aged glass of scotch, neat, just like he likes it. He watched expectantly, like a predator, as you mounted his fingers and started to get yourself off. He didn’t even move a damn muscle, except to smile and sip his drink, of course.  

Pine’s fingers felt better than you could have ever imagined, even in your wet dreams. His fingers were long and his hands were large. The situation alone offered a thrill you had never thought of before, that is not until now. Jonathan kept his eyes trained on you, whether it be on your lips, caught between your teeth or the way your tits bounced in time with your body; he was enjoying every second of it. 

Moving your hips, to get the most out of the intrusion, was proving to be slightly difficult and not nearly enough stimulation. You decided to speed up, just a bit, only to be immediately chastised by Pine. “Ah, ah, ah, darling. Don’t rush it; slow down. Like a good drink, perfection takes time.” He casually swiped his thumb over your clit and watched you shudder. His minimal movements only made it harder for you to get off, but oh, did it feel divine.

You let out a whimper before he sternly gave you a warning. “If you cum before I finish this drink, I’m going to have to punish you, kitten.” He clicked his tongue, before taking another small sip. Did he even drink anything? What the fuck was that? You were frustrated with him. “And if I have to punish you, it’s going to ruin this suit. We don’t want that, do we, darling?” 

You moaned quietly, biting your lip as you nod silently. He broke out into a large grin as he continued to tease your clit and press against the sweet spot inside of you. “Drink faster, please,” you begged him as you clamped down on his fingers. 

Jonathan merely tutted in response and stopped drinking all together. “Au contraire, kitten, I think I’ve had enough to drink for now.” He placed the glass down and you groaned. One gulp was all he needed to finish the blasted thing yet he insisted on savouring it. He eyed you up, from head to toe, even reaching up to grope your breast. “Come on kitten, be a good girl,” he taunted you as his fingers worked wonders below; you’re trembling, barely able to hold on. “Don’t give me a reason to punish you. You know you’ll regret it.”

You did your best to slow your pace, but Jonathan made that exceedingly difficult as he curled his fingers deep inside you. You moaned as he pressed and rubbed hard against your clit.  Your eyes darted to the glass of Scotch left untouched and back to him. He was as cool as a cucumber, of course, you on the other hand, not so much. You bit your lip, stifling a whimper. You shot him a silent pleading gaze, only to be ignored and warned yet again. “Remember, drink darling,” he muttered as he continued to play with you. Yeah, how could you forget it? It was the only thing keeping you from climaxing!

With trembling hands, you reached out to his shoulders and gripped hard, attempting to steady yourself. At the rate he was going, you would hit your high soon. He tutted, yet again, in disapproval as he shrugged you off. “My, my… my naughty kitten doesn’t like to listen, does she?” You gasped when he suddenly pulled out of you and pushed you onto the floor; you were seated on your knees between his legs. “If you can’t simply follow the one rule I have in place, I don’t see why you should receive any pleasure from me.” He chided you before sticking the fingers he previously used to pleasure you, into his mouth. He sucked off your arousal and smiled down at you.

“Although, I’m sure you could change my mind,” he taunted you as he carefully undid his trousers and pulled out his cock. It comes to you as no surprise that he wasn’t wearing any underwear with his suit. With an imprint like that, it was obvious to anyone who dared to peak at that monster. 

His size was considerable and he was girthy; your mouth watered and longed to take him in. “Be a good girl and suck me off; I didn’t prepare this drink for nothing.” 

He laid back and watched as you leaned forward and kissed his tip. You licked and sucked him gently, building up the courage to take more of him. You tried to grasp his shaft, only to be swatted away. “You’re not allowed to use your hands, only that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You obeyed, placing your arms behind your back. “You can do better than that, kitten. Show me how much you want me.” Jonathan placed a large hand over your head, gripping your hair tightly as he guided you further down his shaft. You gagged quietly, tears springing to your eyes. “That’s it, take it all in,” he said through clenched teeth. You obliged and slowly began to bob your head on his length. He did most of the work, using your mouth as a tight, hot and wet hole for his pleasure. Your lipstick even stained the base of his cock with a ring of red.

You moaned around his length sending pleasurable vibrations throughout his groin. “Fuck,” he panted above you before continuing, “that’s worth a sip of scotch, don’t you agree?” His breathless statement only spurred you on more. You took a deep breath in through flared nostrils and began to hum around his cock. “Fuck, yes! Just like that, kitten!” You practically preened under his praise. You heard him gulp before letting out a satisfied breathy moan. You looked up to see his lips glossy with spit, his glass empty in his hand and, of course, that sinister leer directed at you. 

Pine’s head fell back against the sofa and his eyes closed. He enjoyed every ounce of pleasure your mouth gave him. Without thinking, you made two mistakes. First, one of your hands snaked down between your legs; you began to rub yourself in a wanton attempt at relieving some of the tingling and throbbing between your legs. And the second, your hand instinctively fisted the fabric that stretched across Jonathan’s thick thighs.

Jonathan’s head snapped up and his nostrils flared as he glared down at you; you had your hand between your legs and his cock stuffed in your mouth, the perfect slut. It wasn’t until he rose to his feet, did you realise what you had done. 

“I’m… I…”  you stammered. Pine jerked you up to your feet and wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing the sides lightly with the pads of his fingers.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Twice now, you’ve disobeyed me, kitten.”  He reached up with his other hand and stroked your cheek, almost lovingly. Despite the situation and the circumstances, he was gentle, the intimacy only lasting second. He walked the two of you towards the bed. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected much from a little cockslut like yourself.” His words sent another jolt of arousal throughout your system. Again, damn his voice, his tone, his cock… damn him… 

You twisted in his grip and Jonathan chuckled, the sound coming from deep within his chest.  “Is the little kitty going to fight back?” He leaned close to your face as he taunted you. His breath felt hot as it fanned against your cheek. You could smell the scotch and a hint of your arousal on his tongue. The fragrance was practically an aphrodisiac; you shivered, delighted. “There’s no use in fighting, kitten; no one is coming to save you.”

Before you could say anything, Pine spun you around and shoved you against the bed, hard. The clink of metal led you to surmise that he was removing his trousers. You smirked, feeling triumphant in your endeavour with Mr Pine. You got him to take off his precious suit, despite his initial protests. Your little victory disappeared as quickly as it came when a flash of dark fabric sailed over your eyes, rendering your sight useless. You felt the tip of his cock graze your entrance; he teased your wanton hole mercilessly, coating himself in your slick. 

Jonathan pushed into you with a single, fluid thrust and no warning; you groaned loudly. 

“I told you not to touch the suit,” he growled as he pushed your face into the mattress. You let out a moan akin to a squeak as he began to pound into you. His hips collided with your body with such force that each thrust made your limbs shake. You desperately held onto the bed for support. “Is this what you wanted all along, kitten? My cock splitting your delicate little cunt in fucking two? Are you satisfied now?” Jonathan was apparently a dirty talker and you loved every second of it. You moaned and nodded into the sheets, screaming out a sex-delirious, “yes,” as he continued to plough into you. 

He occasionally swivelled his hips deeply into you, both mercilessly stimulating just the right spot inside of you and irritating your clit perfectly. He threw his head back and let out a low moan. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he continued to pound into you. You tried to push back into his thrusts, only to receive a smack on your ass. You gasped and cried out his name breathlessly. He continued to spank you; his hand came crashing down onto your backside repeatedly. “Do you like being treated like this kitten, like my personal whore? Do you like how my cock fucks you and fills you up so nicely? Tell me, you little cockslut; do you like this?” Of course you liked this; frankly, you fucking loved it. Today turned out better than you expected, although you certainly had no idea you’d end up in Pine’s bed.

“Yes.” It was all you could manage between his savage thrusts.

Pine’s hand landed hard on your ass. “Yes, what?” He growled.  

“Yes, sir! I like being your whore!” You gasped as your release drew closer. “...being your little cockslut.”  Your head dropped to the mattress.

“Then milk my cock, kitten.” Pine snapped his hips hard against you. You came with a borderline pornographic moan, your nails digging into the bedsheets. Your walls clenched tightly around Jonathan, squeezing him, milking him like he had requested. “That's a good girl,” he commented through gritted teeth, “good kitten.” He exhaled sharply as he came, his hips snapping against you roughly one last time before he came. “Squeeze me, hard. We don’t want a single drop to go to waste, do we, kitten?”  

Pine stilled himself but stayed buried deep inside of you. Once you collapsed against the bed, he pulled himself out. He slipped off the fabric from your eyes and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you onto your feet. You blinked to adjust to the room’s lighting and turned around to find Pine tucking himself back into his still pristine trousers. His tie hung loose and undone around his neck. That must have been the blindfold, you thought. Pine glanced at his watch.

“Ten minutes before we are due back downstairs.” He smiled as he fixed his cufflinks. “You are,” he paused and gave his next word thought, “efficient; I’ll give you that, kitten.” He strutted towards you and cupped your face, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I suggest you dress quickly if you want to get a good spot to eavesdrop on the conversation,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you a final time. 

Before you could retort or deny, he had turned away and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. You stared at yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. Your lipstick was smeared unceremoniously from the facefucking of just moments ago. You didn’t have time to waste. You dressed quickly and made yourself look presentable, fixing your hair and make up. It was time for dinner.

Normally elevators played annoying tunes to bide the time, but this one was silent, which allowed you the opportunity to over think. Your mind was racing at top speed. Jonathan’s comment played on repeat in your mind. He said eavesdrop. You tried to dismiss your thoughts, chalking his comment up to you being a nosy lover, but nevertheless, your thoughts gnawed at you.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, pulling you away from the mental debate.  

You crossed the lobby to find Pine, Roper, and the rest of the group waiting outside the entrance to the restaurant. There was a strange man with them; he must have been Roper’s buyer. You ducked into the crowd to get closer to them, when a strong caught your wrist and pulled you back. It was Pine, looking as fucking pristine in his suit and tie as he could despite the fact that fifteen minutes ago he was fucking you into the mattress and calling you his personal whore.  

“Where do you think you’re going, kitten?” He purred into your ear as he held you tight.  

“Pine!” Roper called out. “Everything all right? We’re getting ready to head in.”

Jonathan’s expression changed to that of nonchalance and professionalism. Again, you could never tell. “Fine. Kitten here was just complaining about being tired; the trip has apparently already taken its toll. Isn’t that right, kitten?” He slid his hands between your bodies to grope your ass. Of course, no one else noticed; he’s too clever for that.  

“Yes,” you squeaked.  

Roper dismissed the remark with a flippant hand gesture. “Why doesn’t she head up early then?”  

Your mouth dropped open, ready to protest, but Jonathan cut you off. “Good idea, Dickie. You don’t mind?”  

“Not at all. I’ll fill you in on the details over cigars and whisky later. Take her upstairs and put her to bed,” he stated with a wink. 

“Yes, sir,” Jonathan stated before bidding his boss goodnight. You wanted, needed actually, to protest against your early dismissal, but Pine already had you halfway to the elevators.  “Come along, kitten. I’m taking you to bed,” he stated with a stern, almost gravelly tone, “and this time, let’s both have a drink.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Getting away with it (10/?)

Summary: August Walker was dead. At least that’s what people believed for almost 2 years. When the CIA found reason to believe that he was alive they made it their top priority to find him. Including sending one of their best female agents to recruit his twin brother. Walter Marshall.  

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (Walker) + Walter Marshall x Reader (Walker)

Warnings: angst, implied smut in the flashback, cursing

Wordcount: 2.139

A/N: And we’re back. Thank you for sticking around and waiting. I hope you have “fun” with this. Updates will be thursdays from now on. And because I don’t want to pressure myself I won’t promise weekly updates. Just know that I still have big plans for this. There’s a year of plot to get through until the last chapter and we’ve barely covered two months with these 10 chapters so buckle up lol

Masterlist

Previous chapter

two weeks later, CIA Bootcamp

“What’s up with you today, Walter?” He heard his trainer ask, while Marshall rubbed a hand over his jaw. He wasn’t fully there today. Not after talking to Walker for hours last night.

He shook his head.

“I’m okay. Let’s just get over with it.”  Marshall sighed, before he brought his arms up in front of his face, widening his stance, promising to himself to pay attention to what his trainer said.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe it only had been three weeks since he left Walker and Evie on their own. Ever since Walker answered his daily phone call in tears, after August was there with her, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guilty for not being there to protect her. Guilty for leaving to get ready be able to catch his own twin brother, even if right now killing him was the thought that came to his mind, knowing fully well that wasn’t what he was supposed to do. He wanted to bring him to justice. 

He never had been a violent person, but the more he learned about August, the angrier he got. 

But it wasn’t just August who he was angry at. He was also angry at Walker. He was angry because she let him in. She let him touch her. She let him fuck her. And he knew he had no right to feel that way. Because he had no right whatsoever when it came to Walker. Strong and beautiful Walker who he dreamed of in his lonely nights. Wondering how her skin would feel on his, how she would taste when he kissed her. What would make her whimper against his lips.

Breathing in deep, he shook his head. It was another lonely night. Walker would call soon, and he had to get himself in control.

He knew that deep down she still had feelings for August. How couldn’t she? They were married. She thought they would spend their whole lives together, only to find out that she married a crazy person. Yet he couldn’t understand why she let him fuck her.

And he couldn’t understand why he was jealous it wasn’t him who got to fuck her.

“Get a grip, Marshall.” He groaned to himself. 

He felt his phone buzz and smiled as he read his daughter’s name. Was it weird, that he seemed to talk to her more as he was far away?

“Hey Dad.” Faye smiled 

“Hey you. How was your math test?” He asked, making himself comfortable in his hotel bed.

He saw her make a face.

“Don’t know. Not feeling good about it. And I studied so much. God I hate school.” She groaned, making Walter almost chuckle.

“We will see. And hey one day you gonna miss school.”

“I highly doubt it.” She rolled her eyes.��Oh I have news!” She said excitedly.

“Do tell.” Walter smiled.

“Mom agreed that I can spend one week of the holidays with you.”

“That’s great. I have to check in with Walker first though, you know that.”

“I know. But… I wanna see you Dad.” Faye sighed.

“I wanna see you too, Munchkin. I need someone to take over Frozen duty for me. It’s all Evie talks about.” He shook his head.

“So… You and Walker… Do you like her Dad?” Faye asked, catching him off guard.

“Uhm… She’s a friend.” He said.

“But is she a friend or… a friend friend.” Faye wiggled her eyebrows, making Walter laugh.

“Missy, aren’t you a little young for talks like that.”

“I’m not…. I….” She pressed her eyes closed. “I kissed a boy today, Dad.” 

She opened only one eye to look into the camera, to see Walter’s reaction. Walter in the meantime was speechless. His first instinct was to freak out. Because his little innocent daughter got kissed by a boy and he wasn’t around. But the longer he thought about it, the prouder he was, Faye told him about it. So Walter sighed, seeing Faye open her eyes looking hesitantly at him.

“Do you like this boy?” Walter asked.

“I… really like him, Dad.”

He looked at his daughter. Who would turn 14 years old in only two months. He wanted to tell her that she knew nothing about liking someone, that she should go back to watching Frozen all day. But his little daughter was growing up. And much faster than he liked to admit.

“I wanna meet him when I’m back.” Walter said, watching as she breathed out in relief.

“I think you know him already. It’s Ethan….”

Smiling softly Walter ended the video chat with his daughter. He had to admit that it was kind of adorable seeing her have a crush on someone. Even if deep down he still wanted to check the boy out. She was right. He knew Ethan. Walter went to school with his parents, which was a plus, cause he knew they were good people. His phone buzzed again.

Still awake? A text from Walker.

Barely. He wrote back.

Can you talk to me until I fall asleep? She wrote back. Walter sighed, before he pressed the dial button.

Langley, Virginia, the same time

Hopeful, Walker stared at her phone screen. It was late, and she knew it, but somehow hearing Walter’s voice until she fell asleep was the only thing that kept her sane at the moment. She had gotten in bed with Evie until she was asleep and then busied herself with sorting out her office.

After the CIA basically took everything from her office after August was in her house, she now had nothing left other than her computer and some books. She knew right away what files had been missing when Miller sat her down in her living room.

Her dead husband was now on top of the most wanted list because the CIA suspected he was  planning to release anthrax. They just didn’t know where.

As soon as they found out they had sent a team to secure the scientist August had been searching for, only to find him gone from the facility he had been in for the last years.

She felt so guilty. Guilty for not noticing earlier that he had been there. Guilty for not stopping him. Guilty for not killing him. Guilty for enjoying his hands on her body. Guilty that she let it get that far.But mostly she felt guilty towards Walter.

He had stayed on the phone with her until Miller knocked on her door. Somehow Walter had informed him of what happened. She still didn’t know how. He was close to just canceling the boot camp to rush to her side. In a weird way she felt like she had cheated on him. Which was insane because he wasn’t more than just a friend to her. Probably the closest friend she had made in the last 10 years. And she didn’t even notice it.

Her phone buzzed, showing Walter calling. A smile sneaked to her face.

“Hey.” She answered.

“Hey yourself.” She couldn’t help but smile as she snuggled herself into her bed.

“How’s Evie?”

“Oh she’s fine. She actually painted something for you. I can send you a pic tomorrow.”

“That would be great.” There was a pause on his end of the line.

“How are you today?” He asked softly.

“I haven’t cried the whole day.” She chuckled. “The bruises are fading. At least the ones on my body. But I don’t want to talk about that today. Did Josh kick your ass?” She asked, making Walter groan.

“I can’t feel my arms anymore.”

Her phone was still in her hand when she woke up the next morning. It was saturday and she only woke up because someone was tickling her feet. Opening one eye she could see Evie hiding at the end of the bed, giggling as quietly as possible. Walker groaned as she turned to lay on her back, pretending to be still asleep. Through hooded eyes she could see Evie sneaking closer. And just before she could tickle her again, Walker pulled herself up, catching Evie by surprise. The girl shrieked as Walker put her arms around her and pulled her on top of her.

“Moooommy.” She giggled, making Walker smile.

“Good morning sweetie.” Walker yawned.

“I’m hungry.” Evie grinned.

“You’re always hungry.” Walker chuckled.

“Can we have pancakes? Like Walter’s?” She asked.

“With bananas and strawberries?” Walker asked. Evie nodded.

“I can do that. Go brush your teeth and I’ll be right down.” She said. Evie kissed her cheek, making Walker smile before she climbed down the bed. Walker looked after her daughter for a while before she got out of bed too. Stretching her muscles on her way to the bathroom, she sighed when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror. The bruises August left on her body were all gone, except for the bite on her shoulder. She could still see it every time she looked into the mirror. Pulling her shirt further up she leaned down to wash her face. 

Today she wouldn’t think of August. Today she would spend quality time with her daughter. And face time with her and Walter. Because Walker wasn’t the only one missing him. Evie was too.

unknown location, same day.

“We’re gonna touch down soon, better buckle up.” The man next to him said. A pilot August had paid to fly them to the other side of the country. He nodded at the man before he turned around and looked at the scientist who was sleeping peacefully as if nothing had happened in these last two weeks.

August looked out of the window into the dark sky. It was the middle of the night and he could see so many stars, he was reminded back to the night in Russia with Walker in the middle of nowhere. Walker.

He still couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. That she wouldn’t welcome him back with open arms was a given, but using her safeword during sex? That had never happened. And they had done all kinds of kinky shit back in the day.

6 years ago, New York

“I won’t break August.” She smiled up at him.

“What makes you so sure of that?” August smirked, letting his hands wander up her thighs as she sat on top of him, already naked and so inviting.

“No one ever succeeded.”

“Well, you’ve never been dominated by me, haven’t you?” He smirked, his hands grabbing her perfect tits, squeezing them in his hands. They were the perfect size, her nipples poking against his hand.

“Mmmhh… yes.” She began to slowly roll her hips on top of him, and he could feel himself getting hard again. What was it about this woman that made him this aroused? Why did he care if he hurt her? Deep down August knew the answer, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet.

“What is your safe word?” He asked.

“I don’t have one.” She frowned, biting her lip as one of her hands sneaked in between her legs, playing with her clit. August was mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

“Then think of one. It could be anything. I will stop immediately once you say it. Promise.” 

“Hmm….” She sighed. He slowly pulled himself up, catching her left nipple in between his lips, nibbling on it.

“Glitter.” She breathed, closing her eyes.

“Glitter?” He asked against her skin, before he bit over the soft skin of her breast, making her moan loudly.

“Yes. Glitter is my safeword.”

Present day

In all the years they had been together she had never used her safe word. Not when he fingerfucked her under the table during one of her CIA meetings, and not when he had spanked her so hard, she couldn’t sit properly for three days.

But this? This was enough for her to call it? He couldn’t forget the look in her eyes as she sank down on the kitchen wall, tears in her eyes as she screamed at him to leave her be.  

The woman he loved seemed to have nothing but hate left for him. Had another man living with her and he still didn’t know who exactly he was. 

The woman he loved had no sign of him left in her life except their daughter who had no idea who he even was. 

His precious Evie.

The girl he gave up everything for. 

For her future.

The ground came closer as the plane approached landing. Looking behind him he caught the eyes of the scientist who now was awake before he looked up front again.

If everything went right, in only a few weeks he would be reunited with his daughter. Even if it meant getting rid of the woman he loved. 

-> Next chapter

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Not herself': New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out!

Chapter Summary: Bell's first day in Los Angeles with the others is ending and she doesn't see herself right at the moment while a phone call is made to a trustful agent inside the CIA...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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28th February 1981, 22H01 PM PDT

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, Ex-KGB, Perseus

Perseus safehouse "Hidden Angel", Los Angeles, USA

New hideout...was meaning the continuation of our work and this time, our work led us right into the City of Angels on the West Coast because of some rogue cell giving away intels to the CIA and our presence will only be for a few days like in Colorado but now, Stitch wasn't here to lead us, it's Freya instead doing that part of the job and since I woke up and joined my desk in the morning, I didn't stop any second to work, trying to decode some message, make some links between things as I was given a lot of things to do today.

I didn't know what the others were doing as I was extremely focused on working on my own and even during the breaks of the day, nothing stopped me to stay with a pen in my right hand while the other one could have a cup of coffee, a snack or something else. Hopefully, the others didn't try something to make me think freely and it wasn't disturbing me, I was better alone...with my thoughts still troubled as a response to my questions were needed...

Each hour, I was trying to make myself some theories about things: maybe that 'Jess' was a cover name for an infiltration mission in the past, maybe that woman was a target...it was just theories but things were a little too real for me, the others should stay not aware of that for me, I don't want them to worry about things that shouldn't be them to know...I should stop thinking about it, the night has fallen in here, feeling exhausted was my mood now...either a good sleep or coffee could help me...

"Coffee or sleep?" I talked to myself, closing down one of the files that Knight gave me before dinner about that rogue cell but honestly, I already forgot what was inside of it at the moment I closed it...as if it wasn't really important for me. "Coffee or sleep?" I repeated as my eyes went on the empty white cup a few centimeters from my right hand.

"Sleep is better for you," I got my head up to see Knight who was arriving near my desk in front of it, holding a beer can in his hands.

"Knight," I muttered at his sight, him taking a sip from his beer.

"You should get some sleep, you worked non-stop all day," He advised me, passing his left hand through his beard to clean his lips from the beer. "I'm pretty sure that you don't want to stay every day on a chair like that," He pointed out towards me & my chair and he was a part right...that chair was a bit uncomfortable to stay on it but I stayed on it all day...

"I know but I can't go on the field with a recovering right shoulder," I said, looking over my shoulder and getting my left hand above it. "By the way, here's the file you gave me earlier," I then moved my hand on the file I closed to give it back to Knight.

"Thanks," He took the file in his free hand, keeping his beer car in the other. "What does it say?" He asked me, opening the file to take a look at it.

"I don't know, I don't give a damn about it," I replied in a normal voice even if the words I use were a bit something not normal to say at the moment.

"Why that?" He narrowed his eyes at me, keeping the file half-open after he got his beer on my desk near the little lamp that was one of the few lights inside the hideout at the moment...the place was so old that the sun's light and the lamps at the desk were the only source of light in here, not even the little bedrooms we got to have that.

"I don't know, as if I don't want to have my mind focus on it," I tried to explain myself about my reason but it was mostly vague. "I've got some...thoughts..."

"Thoughts?" He whispered.

"Thoughts," I repeated, moving my arms away from my desk to the wooden armrests of the chair, tapping my right fingers on it.

"What sort of thoughts?" He demanded, putting down the file on my desk to take back his beer in his left hand. "Sort of...personal ones?" He clarified, slowly getting a smile forming on his face.

"Maybe," I slightly shrugged at him as I was thinking that coffee isn't a big idea at the moment and sleep should be better and honestly if I could avoid saying everything to Knight, that's better be something I should do quick

"I knew it," He exclaimed, almost clapping his hands at me loudly. "You're in love with her," He suggested as I was getting up from my chair after deciding to go to sleep, my eyes going wide, away from his sight with my back turned, my whole body stopping to move a single inch at his words...

"What?" I turned my head around in a serious way, trying to know about what he was thinking.

"You're loving Wraith, don't you?" He questioned me with his smile that didn't go away and I was in luck now for the moment, Wraith having gone to sleep early while Bellamy was at his desk...listening to music..."Come on, I'm pretty sure that you got a feeling for ladies like her, right?" He added.

"Why should I told you that?" I asked him, getting the chair back to its place.

"We're friends, Bell," He responded, spreading his arms on his side as if he wanted to make a hug. "I'm your Irish friend and you're my Russian friend," He continued, a sound of meaning in his voice but right now, I don't know how to feel.

"Maybe but no," I told him, looking at him with narrowed eyes, my hands trembling a little on the backrest of my chair.

"Maybe...but...no?" He repeated, taking at least 2 seconds between each word to speak, sounding offended that I don't tell him what I feel about that subject...I was mixed...

"Listen, Knight," I started, removing my hands off the chair. "Maybe you're saying that I'm your friend but now...I'm not sure of some things," I argued, my eyes crossing all around him to look at the room. "I'm....you know what? Forget about it," I decided to call this conversation off, a feeling of shame flowing inside my body. "Just let me go to fucking sleep, okay?" I demanded at him, sounding suddenly rude towards him.

"Bell," He called me out as I start to walk away from my desk.

"Fuck off!" I raised my voice against him in a sudden, clenching my fists like in a rage and not looking at him at all as I walk towards the little hallway of where my bedroom was.

I don't know why I start to get myself angry about that subject to him: maybe that I wanted to get away and...being rude was like my only way but that wasn't sounding like me...why should I be rude? Why I was like that to Knight? Was it my day getting me like that? Questions invading my head...again & again, it was the same thing over & over again...sometimes, I feel like the biggest asshole on Earth at listening to myself...including right now...I got a right shoulder wrapped around bandages, I'm exhausted...all fucking shitty right now...

The only thing I wanted to do now was to get inside my room, jump on my bed, and shut my eyes for the night. The room I was in wasn't the best, only enlightened by the moon outside, almost a pain in the ass to be in a place like here, even an American motel could maybe do better. Right now, I only feel angry against a lot of things and that could be shown as I got my clothes out of me, throwing them away on the ground before I got myself on the bed, getting the blankets over me, and now, getting my eyes shut for good...

But my thoughts...they weren't going to let me sleep: my angriness, that weird dream still haunting me in my head, wondering why the hell I was called 'Jess' in it...I should try to search about something like it...on my own...and there was...that feeling towards Freya...do I...love her? I couldn't tell but it was something I couldn't tell loudly...I don't know what's happening to me but it's not the best thing I'm living at the moment...angriness, that dream, my feelings...

I need to find something about those things...on my own...

---------------------------------

1st March 1981, 00H07

Liliya Petrov, Perseus mole inside the CIA

Liliya's office at the CIA headquarters, Langley, USA

2 years...one week ago, it was since 2 years that I have faked up my defection to the West to join the CIA as a demand from the Collective and if I wanted this to be real for me, like a way to cut off my links with my brother & dad, I couldn't do it, knowing that they will always find a way to get me back if I do defect, so I gave in...and it worked very well, so well that I was having my own office at Langley and working on the Counterintelligence group thanks to my cryptographer skills...if only that defection could be true.

For some days now, the CIA was now getting into a war with none other than the Perseus Collective itself after one of Stitch's team actions in West Berlin. Since that day, that Reagan...that fucking President gave unlimited access to Jason Hudson to form a team to stop Perseus and to get me in a better way, I got myself into it but at the condition from Hudson that, I stay in Langley to investigate Perseus recent actions in Colorado which have made a lot of noises in the CIA.

Because of that importance, I found myself working later, and seriously, nothing could help me right now: not my loneliness or that coffee that wasn't tasting like coffee at all coming from a machine that was at least a few meters away from my door's office or the glass of whiskey that was on my desk, its lamps as the only source of light in my office.. Now, I was trying to 'work' on the reports that the US Army gave to the CIA, telling about the attack on Cheyenne Mountain when a knock was heard at my door...

"Come in," I spoke up, not even looking up to see who will come in as I was staying focus on writing and reading the reports before the door open.

"Petrov," I could recognize that voice and it was none other than Hudson himself, having come back from a mission in Ukraine.

"Hudson," I muttered, putting down my pen to look at him, always dressed the same way: white buttoned shirt, black tie, and the same sunglasses over his eyes...the same..."I thought that you already left to get back to West Berlin," I said, crossing my arms on the desk as he was only here for a few hours to talk to that guy called 'Black' that I was Hudson's superior.

"I know but I wanted to see in person the progress on the reports the Army gave you," He revealed, staying near the door as if he was just here to take the news and then leave like that.

"I'm working on it right now," I told him, pointing with my eyes towards the paper I was having on my desk to him. "You should get the results tomorrow," I said, tapping my left finger on the desk at a slow pace.

"Thanks, you transmit that to Black once you're done it," He ordered in a clear voice, his hands going back on the door handle ready to close it and leave. "If necessary, I can call you directly,"

"And wanting me out of here with the team?" I suggested.

"No," Hudson shook his head at me instantly. "You stay in here while I'm working with the others, you're a target for them if you got spotted," He proclaimed, making sure that he was well heard by me before he suddenly shut down the door of my office softly leaving me alone in my loneliness.

"Dickhead," I whispered my thoughts of that guy, taking a sip from my glass of whiskey, the only thing that was good in here and by looking at those papers, the first feeling I've got was to get it done later after going for sleep at my apartment in the city but as soon that I've got ready to get up that the red phone on my desk starts to ring. "For fuck's sake," I sighed, that phone ringing means that my bed has to wait, maybe important. "Liliya Petrov's speaking," I said, picking up the phone in a low voice.

"Oh sorry, I thought it was the Singapore Embassy," A man voice spoke up...none other than my brother himself, Bellamy. Hearing his voice caused me to make something with the computer to make sure that the call was securitized and not listened to as my computer and the phone are linked together.

"Bellamy," I muttered, not sure if I should talk to him nicely or badly...with him, it's hard to choose. "How very nice of you to call at midnight," I exaggerated.

"Come on, it's been some time that we didn't talk to each other, be cool, Liliya," He claimed with a voice that could say that it wasn't his fault to be an idiot. "How's life in Langley?" Did he ask that from me...seriously?

"Seriously?" I snapped, shaking my head about it. "Are you seriously calling me to know how I was? Just...that?" I demanded, my voice getting clear for him to hear. "You know that I'm risking a lot just by that?"

"I know, I know," He protested, sounding sorry in his voice...hmm, wasn't his type of person to do that. "It wasn't just for that," He revealed to me, and of course that if he was calling me, it wasn't to know how's my lonely life in the US.

"Spit it, Bellamy, what do you want?" I questioned him, already taking a pen in my hand to write his demand on a piece of paper.

"Two things actually," He started, adding some coughs after he talk. "First, we need to know the members of the team that the CIA's leading to track us down," He gave it out his first ask, me writing down on that piece of paper 'Hudson's team names', underlining it two times.

"Should be easy, I can send it by fax in a few minutes," I exclaimed after I wrote it down on that paper.

"And the second is a particular demand from Wraith," He resumed, sounding very serious and low in his voice.

"The Norwegian lady?" I presumed.

"Yes, that one," He told me.

"You know that I don't trust her," I said, knowing well of that woman that I saw a few times ago and she didn't gave me a good impression of her.

"I prefer to trust her than the Irish Knight," He stated, hearing from his side some sounds of a chair squeaking as if he was moving on one of it. "Anyway, I don't know if the CIA is talking about it but there was an MI6 agent that got missing on the 13th of January, can you find anything about it?" I wrote that demand too just below the first one before I stop, realizing something.

"Wait," I started, redressing myself on my chair to hold the phone better. "Are we talking about..."

"Bell? Yes," He guessed right what I was going to say. "We don't exactly have anything that can say to us who she was in the past and Wraith wants to know," He clarified himself, taking a breath on his side.

"Why does she wants to know about her?" I questioned him.

"Just get it done, okay, Liliya?" He said, not responding to my question that is simple and easy to respond to. "She didn't tell me why so, it's better that you try to find something," He added.

"I'll see what I can do," I sighed, finishing to write where I stop. 'Find who is Bell,'

"Thank you, Liliya," Bellamy told me with a good voice, also rare to hear him like that honestly, is he changing? "Also before I go, I called dad, he wanted to know if you're okay,"

"Like if he wanted to know of a sudden," I commented in a scoffing tone, my eyes moving in front of me. "Why would he get worried like that about me?" I asked, not wanting a response from Bellamy. "He cares more about you than me," I declared.

"That ain't true, Liliya, don't say that," He ordered in a serious voice as I could viewing himself on his side, pointing at the phone. "We're his children,"

"Sure but should I give a damn about it if he gives a damn about me?" I demanded and what I hear was a silence coming in between me & Bellamy, as if I made him close his mouth. "I'm sorry, Bellamy but I have to go, bye," I told him before I decides to hang out the phone, annoyed by my day and that phone call that add it up...

Seriously...our father always saw Bellamy as the future of the Collective as me...I don't know what our father planning for me but I'm sure that I will not like it at all. Sometimes, I wish that I could have defects for real but is it too late for that? Couldn't tell...I'm finding myself now into the CIA as a mole for the Collective, feeding them with intels while Bellamy is the link between me & the Collective...if only I could get over that...but now, I'm sort of trapped...

If only my defection was real instead of faked...is my life could be changing?

[365days365movies]

January 20, 2021: Taken (2008)

Well, I know one thing about this movie. He’s gonna find ‘em. And he’s gonna kill ‘em. And also, Luc Besson didn’t direct this movie! Yeah, my bad, he wrote this movie. But, then, he also wrote Leon, so I wasn’t entirely wrong. Anyway, 2008!

I remember this year well. Obama was elected the first Black president of the United States of America; the Olympics took place in Beijing, months after a massive earthquake in Sichuan; the Large Hadron Collider was totally gonna make a black hole; and, of course, the most important news event of that year: Iron Man and The Dark Knight came out.

And of course, the film Taken came out, creating what is arguably the most repeated film meme ever. Or, at the very least, it’s WAY up there. It’s a 12-year old meme at this point, but lemme tell ya: this thing was HUGE in 2008. Not the movie itself, just the meme. And I could lie and tell you that I’m watching this movie because it’s another French action thriller, and it’s fitting, but…

...it’s the meme. It’s 100% the meme, I’m not gonna lie to you guys. So, uh...yeah, Taken, let’s do this. SPOILERS AHEAD!

Recap

Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) is dreaming of his daughter and wife. In the modern day, he brings a birthday gift to his daughter, Kim (Maggie Grace), and his bitter ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen), who is married to a very wealthy man, Stuart (Xander Berkeley). Bryan, meanwhile, is a recent and comparatively poor retiree, whose friends come over for a night of drinks.

Retiree from what, you ask? Well, it’s likely the CIA, given that his friends refer to military missions and Langley. They invite him to join security detail for a pop star, Sheerah (Holly Valance), In the process, he saves her from crazed fans, including a knife-wielding assailant. Not sure why that guy wants to LITERALLY STAB HER, but somebody needs to look into that guy!

Out of gratitude, Sheerah gives Bryan some references to give to his daughter, who wants to be a singer, apparently. However, when he sees her and Lenore the next day, all she wants from him is permission to go on a trip to Paris with her friends. When he shows his doubts for her safety, she’s upset, and his wife berates him for...government and military service? I mean, that stuff breaks up marriages, of course, but GODDAMN, Lenore’s bitter about it! Whoof.

Bryan’s definitely being made to be sympathetic, while Lenore’s the opposite of that. And Bryan’s understandably worried about his daughter’s safety, as she’ll be abroad. And we get the idea that Bryan’s a bit of a helicopter parent, but...c’mon! He’s underage daughter is asking to go to Paris with her friends! It’s cause for a parent to be worried, and yet Lenore is like, “She needs to be freeeeeeeeeee!” And that’s made even WORSE by the fact that both of them lie to Bryan, a father who clearly loves his daughter, because she’s actually following U2 on a music tour around Europe!

Which...really? U2? Who the hell can stand that much Bono, for their ENTIRE EUROPEAN TOUR? Anyway, what I’m saying is, Lenore sucks, and I’m not Kim’s biggest fan either. But I get the feeling that, given the one thing I know about this movie...Bryan’s gonna be proven right. So Kim and her friend, Amanda (Katie Cassidy) go to Europe, alone, despite Bryan’s understandable misgivings. 

They IMMEDIATELY get hit on by Peter, a French boy who gives them a ride. He invites them to a party, Amanda accepts for them, and this is OBVIOUSLY A BAD IDEA. That’s even further confirmed by Peter making a mysterious call, telling the other person about the girls’ location. Kim doesn’t call Bryan, as promised, and Amanda is clearly a TERRIBLE influence. Looks like Bryan was completely right to be concerned, if his daughter’s gonna be so irresponsible. Oh, also because they’re about to get kidnapped.

Luckily, Kim had called Bryan just before, after realizing that he had called her, and he guides her through the upcoming kidnapping. With his help, although she gets kidnapped, Bryan is able to figure out that the kidnappers are Albanian, and that one of them is a six-foot tall bearded man with a moon and star tattoo on his right hand DAMN THAT’S OBSERVANT. But still...she’s been Taken.

Someone picks up the phone...and he says the speech.

Had to do it, folks. It’s the most iconic scene in the film. Time for action! Bryan calls a friend with Langley connections, then goes straight to Lenore and Stuart’s place, who find out that BRYAN WAS FUCKING RIGHT GODDAMMIT HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW 

 Having COMPLETELY FUCKED UP, Lenore asks Bryan to get her back safely. They actually figure out that the men who kidnapped her are professional sex-traffickers, who specialize in kidnapping travelling women and putting them in prostitution. But they tend to disappear...within 96 Hours. That’s how long Bryan has to find her, as well as being an alternate title for this film!

The time limit, by the way, is a common construct for the action-thriller. You know, “she has 12 hours to live,” that kind of deal. Thrillers are going to be peppered throughout this year, and there are a few coming up as well, so might as well start with this one, right?

Bryan flies to Paris, then makes his way to the apartment, tracing Kim’s steps up to her kidnapping. He also finds her destroyed phone, alongside an SD card with photos. From this, he gets a blurry look at Peter. I get the feeling that his face isn’t about to look much better. Speaking of, Peter’s playing his old tricks at the airport, and is caught by Bryan. Painfully caught. After Bryan fights off another guy, and chases Peter up a road, Peter also gets caught by karma.

80 hours left. Having exhausted options, Bryan meets an old contact, Jean-Claude (Olivier Rabourdin), who tells him where the Albanians hang out. He hires an Albanian translator, then heads for a prostitute-heavy area. He harrangues a prostitute until her manager comes out, whom he puts a small microphone on. With the translator’s help, he discovers that they’re having “merchandise problems” at a construction site. 

Following a hunch, he makes his way there, and sees several drug-addicted young women in a makeshift brothel. Also there is his daughter’s jacket. The prostitute that has it, however, is not exactly cognitively sound at the moment. So...she’s Taken. By Bryan, who fights his way out of the brothel and construction site, with gunshots, explosions, and car chases along the way.

Bryan brings the girl back to a hotel, where he somehow gets ahold of an IV and medicine, and detoxes her in the room. Which, given the time frame and other factors...seems like a very large risk to take for testimony that, let’s be honest, right not exist. Still, as this is happening, he gets a call from Jean-Claude, asking to meet.

56 hours left. After 7 people dead, a destroyed trailer, and 3 people injured (and probably stolen medicine from a hospital, let’s be honest), Bryan isn’t exactly the best friend of the French government. He escapes police custody and heads back to the hotel, where the girl is cogent enough to remember where she got the jacket: from Kim herself, at the house with the red door on the road of paradise. No, really.

Bryan gets to the house, and poses as Jean-Claude...badly. He apparently passes his bluff check, and takes advantage of a corrupt police system, and makes them give him protection money. Over the course of the conversation, he figures out that one of them is Marco. Which means that he found him. And he said that when he found him…

After that spree is done, he searches the facility and looks for Kim. He doesn’t find her...but he does find Amanda. And sadly, he’s too late for her. Turns out, though, that he didn’t kill Marko (Arben Bajraktaraj), the leader of the group. And of course not! He has some questions.

Bryan tortures Marko using electricity, and he reveals that Kim’s been sold quickly, as she is a virgin. She’s been sold to Patrice Saint-Clair (Gerard Watkins), although Marko doesn’t know where he is. And so, Bryan fulfills his promise, and electrocutes him. He then makes his way to meet Jean-Claude at his home. And, uh...that’s when he crosses a line.

...Um. Bryan shot his wife. And yeah, Jean-Claude’s clearly not on the up-and-up, but he’s not directly complicit in the kidnapping of his daughter. And yeah, he’s in Bryan’s way, but JESUS CHRIST DUDE. He officially loses the moral high-ground here for me, even if his cause is just. Jean-Claude concedes, and Bryan gets the information that he’s looking for and leaves, knocking Jean-Claude out in the process.

Bryan goes to the Saint-Clair residence, where an auction is taking place for various young women. The last of these is, of course, Kim. Having barged into a booth of one of the buyers, he forces him to buy Kim (ew). Unfortunately, he’s caught and chained to a pipe, where Saint-Clair’s henchmen are about to kill him. But, of course...

Bryan escapes and kills Saint-Clair in the process, but not before finding out that Kim’s been Taken to a boat. He obtains a car, and after a length (and seizure-inducing) car chase, gets onto the boat, which is owned by the Sheik, a man of unknown Arabic origin. And yeah, in case you were wondering, this feels very...VERY...wrong. It’s brief, yeah, but...you gave a rich Arabic guy multiple wives obtained through illegal means and made them the main villain? FUCKIN’ OOF BRUV

Anyway, as expected, Bryan kicks the asses of everybody on the boat, and finally rescues Kim, killing the Sheik in the process. The two have a tearful embrace, and Bryan NEVER LETS HER OUT OF HIS SIGHT AGAIN PROBABLY. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BONO. THIS IS ALL YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.

Well, Bryan wins the I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG GODDAMIT award, Kim gets to go home and meet that singer from before, Lenore gives Bryan some consideration as a human being for once, Stuart stepfathers, and that’s Taken! Also, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE AMANDA’S PARENTS, A GIRL IS DEAD

Epilogue soon!

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Of Monsters and Moose || Arthur and Kaden

TIMING: 2 months ago, during Sand and Glass POTW LOCATION: Moose Caboose  PARTIES: @arthurjdrake and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Bloody Mary decides to pay Kaden and Arthur a visit. AKA Sometimes your pixie roommate sets you up for a really bad blind date

The message on his phone was a surprise. Arthur wanted to meet him at Moose Caboose of all places for lunch. Kaden wasn’t certain why, especially there of all places, but he figured he’d find out. He had to figure if he was reaching out, there was a decent reason. It’s not like they were close but he had proven to be trustworthy. Enough. Kaden was thoroughly certain that Arthur was not just a man but a phoenix despite his denial. Maybe he’d have a chance to prove it. Subtly, of course. It’s not like he really made it a point to hunt phonexies. For one, they were rare as shit. And two, they weren’t usually the type to harm humans. And three, they weren’t exactly easy to kill if what he’d read in books were true. He wasn’t sure if they just sprung back to life from the ashes like a flaming zombie but he didn’t particularly want to find out and get on the bad side of a fire wielding bird, fragile as they were supposed to be. He took a seat at the restaurant and waited and wondered. Ever so often he noticed a flash or two of something out of the corner of his eye. Likely just people moving back and forth. “Hey,” he said, spotting Arthur as he took a seat. “What was it you wanted to discuss? It sounded sort of urgent. But uh, I guess only so urgent if we’re meeting, well, here.”

The moment Arthur’s phone had pinged with a message from Kaden Langley suggesting they meet at Moose Caboose two thoughts initially crossed his mind. The first: suspicion. After all, the last time they’d spoken Kaden had been rather accusatory regarding his own theory that Arthur wasn’t as human as he appeared to be. He was right of course, but that certainly wasn’t something that he particularly wanted to confirm. The second: surprise considering he really didn’t get the impression Langley liked him enough to even be interested in meeting up to discuss pie. But as ever, curiosity would kill the cat - or bird. Arthur glanced at his phone re-reading the message he’d received from Kaden while walking towards the booth Kaden was seated in, framed by a stuffed moose surrounded by pickled pumpkins with varying degrees of scarily carved faces. Grey eyes lifted as Kaden arrived accompanied by a look of puzzled interest. “Sorry? I wanted to discuss? I’m not sure--” he paused looking back at his phone and turning the screen towards Kaden to show their last conversation several months back followed by a more recent conversation initiated by an obscure message from Kaden earlier in the afternoon. “But I guess I was wondering the same thing.”

“Yes, you. You’re the one who invited me here.” Kaden thought the other mean was supposed to be smart, what had happened? Did he really not remember? He showed up, he had to know something. Kaden’s brows furrowed as he looked at the phone. ‘Meet me at Moose Caboose, pie man. We need to talk.’ The fuck? That was his name and information. But he had never seen that message before. “I didn’t send that,” he said, shaking his head. Part of him wanted to grab the phone and scroll through, check it closer, make sure it wasn’t a lie or a trick or magic but that seemed like a bad move. What if he just grabbed it and shook it? No, still bad. He sighed. “Well I got a very similar message from you so I don’t know what to make of that.” Kaden pulled out his phone and went to show him the message only… It wasn’t there. “Putain?” He scrolled through it furiously and there was nothing, just the conversation from months ago. “Ah, putain,” he repeated when it sunk in what probably happened. The pie comment. “Rumpleskuffs,” he said, grumbling. “Pretty sure my p-- my roommate sent that. As a joke.” He sighed before noticing another strange glint in something nearby. Odd. “Guess you might as well stay,” he said gesturing to the seat in front of him. “I’ve had worse company. How’s the girl? Was it Kat? She alright?”

“You didn’t? Weird…” but Kaden seemed genuine in that statement and his apparent confusion. He stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other wondering just what Kaden was playing at here scrolling through his phone for some kind of evidence? Arthur blinked twice, “I’m sorry Rumpleskuffs?” Kaden had a room-mate called Rumpleskuffs? “Uh… Oh. So you didn’t want to talk about pie.” Well, that made this an interesting situation then, glancing between Kaden and the empty seat there was a half-a-second pause uncertain which way that remark should be taken. Folding his hands on the table, Arthur gave a small nod in confirmation. “Katherine? Yes. Fine, still suffers with some nightmares but talks a lot about the brave prince charming that came to destroy the evil monster. Kids… Pretty resilient huh?”

“We can talk about pie if you want, I guess. I’ve been making a lot but I’m not sure why you’d care.” Kaden was fairly sure that Arthur didn’t need to know why he was making so many, either. He didn’t love talking about feelings and bullshit with people he was close to let alone with near strangers. “Yeah, Rumpleskuffs, he’s a-- it’s a nickname. Weird guy. Likes pie a lot and messing with me.” He wasn't sure why he was worried about the likely phoenix knowing about his pixie roommate but he was. Maybe he just didn’t want to explain it or be judged for it. Wasn’t sure. Also felt like a bad thing to announce in public. “I don’t know how possible it is to grow up in this town without nightmares,” he said. “Glad to hear she’s otherwise okay.” He gave a small smile. “Not sure I should be anyone’s prince charming, though. Warn her about that one.” His brow furrowed as he noticed something moving in his glass of water. Odd.

A part of Arthur wanted to point out that really he didn’t care all that much but the rational part of his brain recognised that antagonising a hunter probably wasn’t the smartest of moves to make. So opted instead to say, “oh really? Is there another pie contest or something?” Rumpleskuffs? He rolled the name around in his head a little bit, “weird name that… How’d he get the nickname Rumpleskuffs? He isn’t a fae or something is he? I don’t know what their obsession with pie is… Or maybe it’s just the ones I’ve met but they all seem to share it.” His fingers curled a little under his chin in thought. “I dunno, I think if you’re stubborn enough it’s possible either that or you’re just lucky. One or the other.” Despite everything a smile edged its way onto his features, “she’s hardly going to pay any attention to me on that one plus you kind of look like that Flynn dude from that cartoon so I doubt much of anything will change that.” But Kaden was looking over his shoulder and naturally Arthur turned to glance behind him, finding only his own reflection. Weird. “Everything okay? You seem a bit- I dunno, distracted?”

“Not that I know of,” Kaden said with a shrug. Even if there were a contest, he didn’t have time to give a shit. The excess baking wasn’t for anyone else but him, not really. He froze when Arthur instantly pegged Rumple as fae. Putain. “I’m, uh, not sure. Just, it, yeah he’s a little fae. Mostly.” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to hide it. Shame mostly, to be honest. Alright, sure, he was dating Regan who was fae but that was partially because he hadn’t known initially. This was worse. Stupider, even. Maybe he should just accept his fate and get over it. Or rather is fae-te. He was a magnet for fae and fae bullshit. “Maybe so. But they’d be pretty hard pressed,” he said. This town was so full of living nightmares he couldn’t imagine skipping over all of it and coming out of this place without any scars of any sort. “Like Flynn who?” His forehead creased as he tried to imagine it. A cartoon prince who looked like him and fought monsters? He couldn’t imagine it. “Huh. Odd. Can’t picture it. I’m pretty sure no one would call me a prince either way.” He sighed and took a sip of the water the waitress left at the table. As soon as he went to take a sip, he swore he saw a figure in it, something dark and moving. “Merde!” he shouted as he dropped the glass from his hands, water spilling everywhere across the table. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry I thought I saw something in the wa--” He caught a peek at the glass and saw another flash of something and stumbled back out of his seat, catching himself on the edge of the chair before he tumbled to the floor. What the fuck was that?

For a hunter it seemed to strike Arthur that Kaden wasn’t the most apt at concealing his discomfort in a situation such as being caught in a lie or an omission of fact. “Not sure?” there were several ways to test whether Kaden’s apparent flatmate was a fae, but Arthur didn’t feel that right now was the best time to comment on it. “Perhaps, either that or find a decent enough spellcaster versed in the whole sphere of memory magic. That would usually clear up any issues considering if you can’t remember an event it can hardly give you nightmares hm?” But if the kid was happy enough and relatively untroubled then who was Arthur to interfere with how her parents - his great great times seven or something of the sort grandson chose to raise her. “Flynn Rider- Rapunzel- The- You don’t know? Oh huh…” he trailed off shaking his head “yeah okay probably better you don’t then.” Yet his attention was promptly diverted by the sudden commotion of water being spilled that had Arthur jumping to his feet in a flash at the same moment Kaden almost tumbled onto the floor. He peered at Kaden’s line of sight fixed on the glass and blinked as something seemed to shimmer and shift in the reflection “Oh bloody hell- Not again.”

Kaden did his best to act like nothing strange had happened, that he hadn’t just nearly fell from his seat, startled by a fucking glass of water of all things. “Sorry that was, I thought I--” It was then that he noticed Arthur was standing. He’d jumped away from the water like it was acid. If he was what Kaden suspected he was, it was likely that it was similar. Kaden didn’t get a chance to narrow his eyes or even question it further. “Not again? What do you mean not again?” he asked, brow furrowing. The reflection in the glass seemed to answer for him. As he looked into it, he saw a woman with a knife. Then felt a sting of pain across his cheek. “Putain!” he shouted, and clutched his face. He felt the blood running along his palm. What the hell? He pulled it away to examine his hand. Yeah, that was real alright. Real and red and painful. Kaden dared to lean in, get a closer look. “Murderer,” the spirit growled. The creases in Kaden’s forehead deepened and he saw a knife push forward towards him out of the reflection towards him. “Shit!” he shouted as he dived out of his chair, finally hitting the floor. “What the fuck is she talking about?! What’s going on?!” he asked Arthur. By now the whole restaurant had their eyes on them, there were whispers all around and lots of confusion. Kaden didn’t exactly care. But he did wonder if now was the time to tell people to leave.

Too many things happened at once, the accusatory glare and the sign of something strange lashing out of the upturned glass of water. A twisted ghostly visage one Arthur had seen not several weeks back in his very own kitchen attempting to drag Freyja down the stairs by her hair. “Oh shit” the panic was clear, though now really wasn’t the time to explain. “NO DON’T!” he yelled out instinctively as Kaden leaned in to inspect the glass right as another swipe of the knife followed one that could’ve certainly taken an eye if not for Kaden’s speedy reaction. “The reflections, she’s in the reflections” it was right as the words left his mouth that he saw the same figure manifesting in the glass panelled window, immediately, Arthur shot in Kaden’s direction, moving to backhand the glass off the table into the very panel the ghost had started to appear in. The whispers were silenced by the shattering of glass, glistening fragments spilling left right and center. A baleful shriek followed the sound and Arthur moved back over to Kaden extending a hand out to where he’d fallen “I know you have fuck all reason to trust me, but I need you to listen to me now - we need to get you out of here because she won’t stop until your head’s on a platter.”

“What?” Kaden sputtered as he worked to right himself onto his hands on knees, avoiding the glass shattered around him. “Me? What about me? How--” He was struggling to piece together all of the disparate pieces of the puzzle together in his panicked state. Ghost. This was definitely some sort of ghost or spirit. Reflections. Was this-- There was no way. “Don’t tell me this is Bloody fucking Mary,” he said in a hushed tone to the professor as he took his hand, letting him help him pull him off the floor. “Murderer,” rang out again, from over his left shoulder. Kaden looked back and saw the same woman in the mirror, ragged and dark and angry. Her knife reached out and this time Kaden ducked, putting his hand over his head. “What the fuck does she want with me? She’s got to be really fucking mistaken because I’m not a goddamn murderer.” There was chaos in the restaurant now, customers watching them and looking around them for the source of the commotion. A few of them had seen the reflection and pointed towards the mirror. Some of them seemed to think it was a show. Most of them were annoyed for the interruption. “Excuse me, we’re going to have to ask you to l--” the waiter started. “Way ahead of you,” Kaden said before ducking out. “How the fuck do I avoid all reflections? It’s nearly goddamn impossible.”

“Not now,” Arthur answered with a shake of his head as Kaden righted himself glancing at the hunter. For a moment there was a strange and sudden urge to laugh but no sound escaped him, only a grimace of acknowledgement and mild determination while backing up. “Would it make it momentarily better if I lied and said no?” But further words were cut short as the ghost swiped out from the window seemingly keen to totally ignore Arthur’s presence in the room next to Kaden. It sparked an idea, and Arthur shifted between Kaden and the next window using himself to block the ghost’s reach for Kaden. The waiter that had served them but moments prior looked as though he were about to have an aneurysm on the spot at the shattered window panel and it was the least Arthur could do to offer an apologetic look and passing remark of “sorry, I’ll pay for that later yeah? Claustrophobia, my friend doesn’t do well inside.” Eventually they made it outside but the parking lot posed an entirely separate issue and Arthur had to run through through options. “The park, open field right? Just round the block… If we get there we can probably wait her out… I don’t think you’ll be able to do anything to her… She’s not a normal ghost.”

Kaden wanted to be annoyed at the bullshit explanation to the waiter, but he didn’t have much of a chance. It’d have to fucking do because they had to get the hell out of there. “A park?” It made sense, he had to admit. There shouldn’t be a whole lot of reflective surfaces surrounding him there. He’d just have to avoid any water nearby. And if his suspicions on Arthur were correct, he’d be just as keen to avoid that as well. “Okay, park. That’s-- Go, let’s go.” He reached into his wallet and shoved a twenty dollar bill on the table before running out, ducking and dodging like it might help. “I know who the fuck Bloody Mary is! I’m a--” He stopped short, didn’t want to scream it out in the middle of the street that he was a hunter. Seemed like a bad fucking plan. “Just trust me, I know.” He started running in the direction he indicated, past the cars and show windows. Shit, fucking shit. He tried not to look but he had a feeling it didn’t matter one way or another if he checked his reflection. “Let’s get to the fucking pa--” His words were cut off by something grabbing at his ankles and dragging him back along the concrete. Kaden screamed and tried futilely to fight off the invisible, intangible object pulling him and scraping him along the sidewalk. He tried to grip the edge, keep from going any farther, but it wasn’t doing much good. Putain.

Arthur’s mind in a spur of the moment decision making process felt that a rather bullshit explanation seemed perfectly reasonable in comparison to telling their rather human waiter from what he could see that bloody goddamn Mary was here to try and kill them. Not them. Kaden. What was it about almost every instance they ran into one another that ended up in something going absolutely sideways? Breaking outside Arthur took off down the street high-tailing it after Kaden with half a mind to smash the windows of the cars they passed. After all, what was a bit of public property damage compared to sparing someone from meeting a rather bloody end at the hand of an equally murder orientated spirit? “Okay! Okay right-” and so they set off, Arthur mainly focussed on running; moving his feet one after the other even as the beginnings of a stitch started to cramp his side. Who knew that a lifetime of office work and preference for milk chocolate brazil nuts during a marathon of Clone Wars did not an athlete make. It was such complainant thoughts and panicked interspersed contemplation regarding what the hell they were going to do next that almost caused him to trip over Kaden as the man crashed to the sidewalk being dragged in the complete opposite direction.

“Oh shit- shit! Hold on!” Park. Right. Grass, bushes… Rocks. Rocks! With little other thought Arthur dove to a nearby bush rummaging around in the vain hope of finding- There his fingers curled around the rough texture of a rock about the size of his fist before scrambling back to the street and hauling his arm back to lob the rock straight through the nearest window of a smart looking mercedes. The glass shattered and its alarm blared but Arthur was already grabbing a piece of glass, little care for the jagged edge cutting into his palm as he brandished it towards the spirit speaking with a courage he didn’t admittedly feel right there and then. “Let him go Mary. He isn’t deserving of your wrath.”

White glass like eyes belonging to a gaunt face framed by stringing black hair snapped away from their intense focus on Kaden for but a moment before returning to the hunter with a snarled hiss, the shrill sound akin to nails scraping down a chalkboard “murderer.”

Kaden could feel skin scraping off his palm as he tried to wrap his fingers around any piece of concrete he could grab onto. He felt some release, the dragging stopped, but it was in exchange for the familiar sounds of glass shattering, the sharp pain of car alarms blaring in his ears. Still, he wasn’t going to complain too much about having a chance to scramble up from the ground. “Why does she keep saying that?” he said, voice laced with panic and confusion. Of course he wasn’t deserving of her wrath. Did she really think all killing made him a murderer? He wasn’t. That wasn’t how this worked. He’d never killed a human. Not once. Fucking spirit had to be mistaken. Even then, he felt like he should cover himself with his jacket, just hide. Like it might eliminate his reflection, make this go away. “We have to get out of here,” he said, grabbing Arthur’s arm and leading him towards the direction of the park, crouching behind the other man as best he could, hoping it might shield him from the spirit’s wrath. They had to leave. If not just because of the spirit but because he wasn’t looking to pay for this fucking broken car window. Somehow he didn’t think Alain was up for doing him any favors as of late. A wail rang through the night as black hair and a glint of silver flashed in the reflection of a shop window followed by a flash of pain along his arm. “Repent,” it bellowed. Putain de merde. “Repent for what? I’m not a murderer. You have the wrong person. Leave me alone!” That park had to be close. It had to be.

“Because that’s what she thinks you are and she’s not-” Arthur didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence as the spectre wailed; seeming to grow frustrated with the constant interruptions of this interloper. The frustration grew even more apparent as Kaden moved behind Arthur out from its line of sight and reach.

“You protect the guilty,” the accusation was harsh and grating and punctuated by a wild advancing slash that Arthur tried to block, but instead slid off and caught his shoulder clean, rending flesh and causing him to cry out in pain.

Stumbling back a step but keeping Kaden behind him he caught himself trying to ignore the stinging ache of his shoulder and where it was fast staining his jumper crimson. Arthur stared back at the spirit with a mixture of defiance and pain but also using the time to keep walking backwards. Just keep it talking. Use the time until they got to the point they could make a final run for it. “So what if I do? Bit hypocritical wouldn’t you say? You’re no better than them in the end.” The ghost lunged again but he was more prepared this time; dodging to one side and glancing behind him in the process towards the gate that was about ten metres away. Just a little further and they could run.

Shit, she was attacking Arthur now, too? That-- He wasn’t a murderer, then, was he? Kaden would have to figure that one out later. Honestly, she was clearly fucking confused so he wasn’t sure it was worth conjecturing one way or another. “Come on,” he said as the two of them backed towards the gate. “Any day now.” He didn’t like the idea of giving this bitch of a spirit any more opportunity than they had to. They were close, almost there, when she lashed out one more time. Arthur dodged and Kaden tried to duck, too, but he caught another edge of the blade slicing into his back. He screamed out but he turned on his heel towards the gate anyway, pushing past the pain. He wanted to make sure that was the last of it. He could manage it once he was something closer to safe. At the sight of the gate, Kaden practically slammed into it with his shoulder. It gave way without much protest and he kept sprinting into the middle of the field. Once he was pretty damn sure there was no shot of his reflection betraying him, Kaden collapsed to the ground and winced at the pain across his cheek, along his back, the various cuts from the various shattered glass. It took him a moment to catch his breath, collect himself enough to form words. “Thanks,” he managed to say, looking up at Arthur as he pulled himself up off the ground. “Your shoulder. You need first aid.”

There was no putting it off now and as the gate hinges squealed and grated open, Arthur legged it after Kaden into the middle of the grassy expanse of the field breathing heavy when they both finally came to a stop and took stock of their situation. Finding nothing malicious stalking them Arthur turned and sank down onto a nearby bench grimacing a little as he picked at where the fabric stuck to the slash; roughly several inches long but not too deep, “it’s not too bad.” And in all honesty it wasn’t, certainly wouldn’t kill him. Instead, Arthur looked back to Kaden assessing the damage the spirit had managed to do in their escape down the street. “Are you okay? That spirit seemed… Kinda intense in wanting to get her hands on you.”

“I’m fine,” Kaden said with a grunt as he pushed himself up off the ground and onto the bench next to Arthur. “That spirit seemed fucking confused is what she seemed like.” He winced a little as he felt the cut on his face. It stung, but it might not even scar, more surface level than anything. Which was nice. “Going after me. Going after you. Isn’t she meant to target murderers? Putain de merde. Someone fucking lied, I guess.” He shook his head and looked back to his companion. “You sure you’re alight, though?”

“Confused?” Arthur echoed side-eyeing Kaden for a moment trying to process the logic behind where the other man was coming from considering what they both knew Kaden was. A hunter. Someone that rather literally existed to balance the scales of existence of supernatural beings. “I mean there’s a fair justification in her going after you... Not that I’m saying she should” he added quickly “just… like you do mur- uh- kill people that aren’t human. Which is murder...” Leaning forwards Arthur rubbed his hands together. “I think she also goes after people that just get in the way of her target ‘cause I’ve never killed anyone in my life.” Or more correctly, in this life. “Uh yeah, though I’m not sure how we’re meant to get back home unless we just… Wait and hope she goes to chase someone else or something.”

“Killing monsters isn’t murder.” The words left his mouth like a mantra, without thought. Kaden wasn’t sure he believed it or not. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to think about what those words even meant anymore or if they held any weight in any shape or form. Either way, he had to hold onto them. If he didn’t-- He just had to. “Guess so.” Must have meant Kaden got in the way of someone else. Right? It had to. There was no other option. He couldn’t be a murderer. That wasn’t something he could live with. And so he wouldn’t. “Seems like that’s the. Guess I owe you dinner, huh?”

“Even werewolves or people that just so happen to have less normal aspects of themselves? Not all supernaturals are monsters - Regan’s a good example of that no?” How many times had Arthur had this conversation with hunters or slayers over his lifetimes? Too many to count but it always boiled down to the same gritted determination of belief that monsters of all shape and size were evil and that somehow their deaths was justified lighting it under the simple guise of monstrosity. It was interesting in a way, seeing how some people tried to justify their actions in their own mind to help them live with the actions and decisions they made on a daily basis. “If an evening out with you is always gonna end up with one of us almost dead or mauled by some beast… I think maybe next time we stick with an afternoon drink - lessens the chances a fraction hey?”

“We’re not talking about Regan right now.” Hell, Kaden was barely talking to Regan right now. And the less he thought about whatever was happening in those woods with Deirdre, the better. And he wasn’t going to try and sort out his feelings on the matter or the growing list of exceptions he was making while sitting on a park bench nursing his wounds after running from a fucking spirit that was trying to kill him through a goddman mirror. Not going to happen. It was bad enough he broke down with Morgan in the woods after that shit with Alain and the bugbear. He was not going to have another fucking moment like that on a park bench. No, thanks. “Spirit must have been mistaken,” he said flatly, with a tone that indicated he wasn’t debating this. Kaden sighed, trying to let go of some of the tension he was harboring. “Worth shot. Even if I’m not sure that all the monsters of White Crest take a break while the sun is out.”

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 3

Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 3: Seems Like You Didn’t Fix Your Problem

“Dana Scully speaking”

“Seems like you didn’t fix your problem Dr. Scully.”

“Oh good it’s you.”

“You got another package.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I forgot to save your number. You’ve been calling my mother’s house.”

“Oh.”

“I needed you to call back. So I sent you something.”

“Oh.”

“You can open it if you want.”

“You know you could have just looked me up Scully”

“Didn’t think of that. I’m gonna be in town Friday. I understand if you have plans but I would like to go out with you and…”

“Yes.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes. Drinks, dinner, anything you want.”

“Ok. I can meet you at the apartment. Have you been to Fluer’s yet?”

“No never got around to fancy french dining.”

“I’ve been dying to try it. They opened right after I left. 7 sound ok with you?”

“Yea that's perfect.”

“See you then Mulder.”

“See you then Scully.”

She sent him a package. Before she had called he almost gave up on the beautiful Dr. Dana Scully. When she left him two weeks ago all he wanted to do was see her again. He thought about her every second. Hell, he even dreamed about her. She had infiltrated his mind and his soul and she was stuck like glue to every thought he had. He walked past shops and wondered if she would buy anything in them. He wondered what her favorite pizza toppings were. His mind formed a million questions about Dana fucking Scully from whether she liked cats or dogs to whether she had lingerie that matched that navy blue dress of hers.

But then she didn’t call him.

He let the first few days pass, but staring at the phone waiting for it to ring was becoming his social life and the gunmen were getting concerned.

“You don’t even know her Mulder” Langley said on the fourth night. He kept track of days now in nights since he’d seen her. Like ticks on the walls of the pit of his existence without her. “She could be a murderer. Or a spy.”

“She could murder me if she wanted too.” Frohike chimed in.

“Maybe she's a plant, sent to debunk your work.” Byers received a glare for that one.

“Listen, she’s none of that. She’s just a woman, and she’s probably not even interested. She would have called by now if she was” Mulder sulked on their couch, nursing a beer.

“Her loss buddy.”

“Yeah. Her loss.”

When the package showed up on his doorstep he actually laughed. Of course fate would drop an excuse into his lap right as he was moving on. It had been a week and he was just starting to get to the point where he didn’t run to the phone every time it rang praying to a god that it was her, and what he got in return was a choice. He contemplated just leaving the package on the step, pretending he didn’t see it, forcing her to call him and apologize.

But calling her was always going to be what he did. So when he wound up on the phone the second he got off work he really wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise him was the little game she had played. She sent him a package and now he was holding a hand-selected present from Dana Scully herself and an invitation to a fancy french restaurant late Friday night.

The package was addressed in handwriting too. He thought it might be from some distant relative but now that he considers it, it's probably her handwriting. Neat print fit for a doctor. He noticed she put Dr. in front of her name this time and he chuckles.

He rips the tape off and a DVD case drops out. He flips it over and of course it's the Exorcist because Dr. Dana Scully just had to make him fall in love with her even more. There’s a sticky note taped to the front of the case and his smile grew with every word.

Dear Dr. Mulder,

Last time I was in your apartment I noticed this classic missing from your collection. The fact that you have a copy of The Room and not The Exorcist is frankly an insult to film lovers everywhere. If you haven’t called me yet I don’t have your number, and I really would like to speak to you again, if only to improve your taste in film.

Sincerely,

Dr. Scully.

He was going to marry this woman if it killed him.

He might as well rearrange his calendar so that every day but Friday just said “doesn’t matter”, because work could be damned. That morning the hours spent reading through files and papers in his office felt like an eternity, and he found himself practically running out of the office, almost into his bosses secretary who was bent over some cardboard boxes in the middle of the hall.

“Oh Agent Mulder, I didn’t see you there”

“Yea, sorry Katie”

“It’s Kathy”

“Oh. Well goodnight”

He had almost pushed past her when he heard “Agent Mulder” in a voice that sounded more like a bird chirp to him and he would have to explain to his boss why he was so rude the next day if he didn’t so turn around he did.

“What’s up?”

“If you’re not busy, I have some friends who are going to a bar downtown later tonight, I’d love it if you could bump into me again there…” She said the word bump with a little wink and a wiggle in her hips that made her look like a jack-in-the-box.

“I have plans tonight. Sorry Kelly.”

“Kathy”

He didn’t have a chance to see her scowl. He was already out the door.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re very punctual Scully.”

He’d been practicing lines since 5. He practiced opening the door like a 14 year old boy practices taking off a bra. Hell, he cleaned the apartment for 30 minutes before realizing he did the same thing this morning. But when he opened the door every line and moved he’d ever had flitted out of his mind and she took its place. Navy was apparently her color because she was wearing another creation that looked tailor made for her. This one was more modest than the last one, but that didn’t make it any less alluring. A neckline that dipped down only a little in the middle to tease him, and little sheer cap sleeves that danced over her shoulders. She giggled and he swooned.

“Navy brat. My father always liked to be on time.” He stepped aside and she entered into his apartment and he got to take in the open back of that navy masterpiece. Picking his jaw up off the floor he followed her. She sauntered around the place like she owned it, which technically she did at one point, but it made Mulder feel like maybe it was still hers in some way. Clearly she lived here for a long time, she treated the place with this odd sense of familiarity, but the way she touched the counter-top like it might break told him things didn’t end on good terms. She found her way to the window and he joined her, looking out on the street below.

“I really did love this apartment.”

“Why did you leave? Not that I’m not grateful”

He turned to look at her, expecting another one of her giggles but she stayed staring out into the streetlamp.

“I think that’s really more of a second date kind of story”

“So there will be a second date?”

“We’ll see after this one won’t we.” Her smile was back and so was the sway in her hips as she walked back to the front door. “Come on, we’ll be late for our reservations.”

The 5 minute walk over was mostly Scully saying “Have you been to that restaurant yet?” and Mulder replying “Not yet” because unfortunately for him the gunmen prefer to eat in and he really doesn’t have many other friends. But Scully doesn’t need to know that yet, so he is more than happy to play the uncultured outsider to what is very obviously her city. She seemed to have a story for every place they passed. She was halfway through telling him about the time she almost got hit by a rogue street biker when they arrived at Fluers. A very nice host ushered them to their table and he found himself staring at her over a menu and candlelight.

“So how was your wedding”

“It was good. It was a friend from my old job here, before I moved, so I didn’t know many people”

“I’m sure you were a hit” She blushed again, staring down into her menu.

“I’m not usually much of a ‘hit’ these days…”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She looked up at him then with this gaze that he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was it was gone when the waiter showed up to take their order.

“So what about you Mulder. What do you do for fun these days?”

“Oh you know, run, watch movies, contemplate the enormity of the universe and the meaning of life”

“I thought that degree of yours was in psychology not philosophy”

“I took some classes.”

“I always liked Laërtius personally”

“I’m more of a Plato guy.”

“Of course you are.”

They settled into a silence and he found himself staring into her eyes again. She stared back with a smirk until she broke the gaze with a blush and more giggles. The waiter came back and poured the wine he ordered. He hoped she was giggly when she was tipsy.

“So what did you come to the city for?”

“I work at the hospital in the pediatric center as a cancer specialist. I used to work every day but since I moved back home I haven’t been taking new patients, so I only come back to see them. It’s a lot of commute but it’s worth it. I wouldn’t want to have to quit and force them to find a new doctor.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I do what I can.”

Of course she is some child saving super hero of a woman. He already knew he didn’t deserve a smart and sexy doctor, but this just put it over the edge. He was officially way out of his league. Why she was still sitting here was a miracle in and of itself.

“What do you do with that Oxford education?”

“I work for the FBI.”

“Ah, so you’re Agent Mulder.”

“I think I prefer Doctor better.” He could tell she was trying not to smile. He bet that she loved being the Dr. in her relationships. As much as she tried not to show it she was damn proud of herself.

“Do you profile?”

“I used to. Now I do something a little different.”

“Different how?” Her eyebrow quirked up and he chuckled to himself. Most girls are satisfied with the title of FBI agent. If they’re not, a quick flash of the badge will usually make them swoon. But not Dr. Dana Scully. She is not so easily satisfied.

“I work on cases of the unexplained.”

“Everything has an explanation”

“Of course it does Scully. But sometimes that explanation is not something that comes from the world we know”

“Are you talking about UFOs?” She sat back in her chair, eyes wide, and he leaned in, feeling the heat of the candle on his chin.

“UFO’s, cryptids, anything from crop circles to spontaneous human combustion. If the FBI can’t solve it, they toss it in my pile”

She didn’t say anything to him then, and all the confidence he had in spilling what arguably made him the weirdest human anyone had ever met was slowly fading. She took to staring at the flame in the candle, clearly contemplating how she was going to get out of this date, but then she looked up at him and their eyes met and that look burned brighter than any fire he'd ever seen.

“So have you gone Bigfoot hunting?”

[lucastheunlucky]

Who Made Who | Luke&Blanche

Time Frame: Current Who: Blanche & Luke Possible Triggers: Body horror Location: Strawford Park Summary: Luke has been seeing a ghost around him and Blanche offers to help work out where she might be buried. Going back to the mass grave where he was disposed of a few years ago, causes her to lash out. She finally shows her face, and the horrors of exactly who she is and who hurt her.  

Blanche pulled her yellow jeep into Strawford Park’s parking lot with a low sigh, sliding into the parking space. She was overly prepared, as per usual. Some might call her paranoid, and they’d be right, but she had seen far too much to not be. She had enough salt in her bag to kill a baby moose, as well a small iron rod, wards, taser, mace, and acid mace. Probably a bit of overkill, but if she was going to be ghost hunting - sorta - with Lucas, then it was better to be overly prepared than not at all. Swinging her backpack on her back, she locked her car and stuffed her keys into her back pocket, walking up to Strawford Park’s gates, immediately tensing. Cemeteries were always haunted, she could feel the spirits lingering inside, and she winced as she lingered outside, waiting for Lucas. She felt him before she saw him, feeling the presence of a ghost coming ath er from a different direction, and she looked up from staring at her shoes and waved. “Hey!” she called, “What’s up? How are you feeling? Any better?”

So Lucas had only one goal in mind with all this-- and it didn’t actually involve him. ‘Do not, under any fucking circumstance, have Blanche get hurt.’ There was nothing else that mattered to him, because answers could always be found in other ways, and there wasn’t a super rush. Even with this ghost-- well-- it wasn’t good, but Lucas could handle it. He waved at Blanche, her smaller stature, backpack, and youthful energy making Lucas concerned already for her safety. “Hey there, Blanche,” he gave a soft smile, and sighed a bit. “I’m feeling a bit sick, but I’m good though. You have some gear on you, stuff to help with ghosts?” He asked, pushing the gate open, and looking out at the gravesite with a thump in his throat. “It's just on the edge, back I think-- better to not walk the middle, yeah?”

“A bit sick?” Blanche’s brows knit together in concern almost immediately. This was why she had wanted to go alone. In theory, the hard part was done, Lucas already knew where the grave was. She walked with him through the gates, grimacing slightly as she nodded. “Yeah, good idea. I - sometimes I have a nasty habit of drawing spirits to me. Something about my aura or something,” Blanche said with a shrug, “So staying away from most of them would be most appreciated. But I do have stuff in my bag that’ll help,” she patted her backpack slightly. “Iron, salt, wards,  you know, the usual.” After a moment, she paused and looked at him, concerned once again. “Here, we can go slow, okay? Are you sure you’re up for this”

Lucas chuckled, trying to keep his tone calm and slightly teasing. “Blanche, I don’t know what the usual is for ghosts, so I’m going to have to take your word for it. I’m not the type to grab weapons.” He’d have to remember that though, any new information on supernaturals wasn’t the worst to have. So the ghosts were attracted to her in a bad way, this put a frown on his lips, glad he hadn’t let her come alone. “Listen, if this goes sideways, I want you to come with my brother next time. There’s never a need to have shit like this bother you so aggressively alone.” He almost let out an annoyed growl, but it stopped in his throat. At her pause he looked back. “Of course, I know this seems grim and I don’t feel the best, but what if it helps? If we both feel like we need to turn around-- we will. Want a code word? Something we can just shout and we run like our ma’am’s have a wooden spoon and we’re on our last warning?” 

“Oh, I am,” Blanche said automatically, with a shrug. “The type to grab weapons, I mean.” She thought back to when she and Winston went to look at the cursed chest on the beach, going to snap photos and kill Karknoids. The back seat of her old, shitty car had been full of bats, bricks, wasp spray, and anything else she could find. She was a bit more prepared now. “Salt and iron are usually good for ghosts, though. I have wards on me in case I have to ward anything off while I’m here. But I don’t think anything’s going to go sideways.” At least, she hoped not. She let out a low sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Your brother?” She frowned, not sure she liked the idea of that. Blanche wasn’t even sure coming here with Lucas was a good idea for Lucas’ safety, she didn’t want something bad to happen to his brother too. “If he’s alright with that. Does he know about this?” They continued walking, Blanche letting out a low laugh. “A code word? Like we’re spies or something? Do you think we’ll need something like that instead of just saying, Zoinks Scoob, let’s get the hell outta here?”

“Yeah, he will know. I don’t keep anything from him anymore, and he’s in search and rescue, he will be able to help out if we can’t find her body,” Lucas easily said. For some reason, while they walked along the edge, steps careful, and both vigilant to their surroundings, he couldn’t help but think about Regan and how she had suggested having a picnic in a graveyard. He internally smiled at that. Weirdo. She was something special. As they moved, Lucas felt the hair on his arms rise up, and he cracked his neck as it grew stiff, the muscles feeling heavier along his shoulders and making his body groan a little against itself. “Yes, Zoinks, please say that,” he said quietly. He glanced at his phone at the rough map, but in reality, he kinda knew where it was now that he was here. His memory was broken up from the day he was put here, hazy like they were echoes of moments over what actually happened. “Shit,” he glanced down when a surprise of pain made his chest suddenly ache and a wave of dizziness hit him. 

Blanche hated graveyards, always had. Whenever her parents would drag her and her little brother to see their great grandparents when they were small. Blanche would scream her head off, even though she was supposed to be the older, more mature one. Her screaming would set her brother off and it would always end with their father snarling at them to stop causing a scene and to behave. After a few failed times, they stopped going. Except Blanche never did stop seeing ghosts. “I can keep my old cartoon references going, if you want. Yabbadabbadoo,” Blanche snorted to herself, shaking her head. The spirit’s presence coming off of Lucas became stronger all of a sudden, causing her to pause as gravel crunched under her sneakers. She turned to look at him. “Lucas?” Blanche asked. Spots of blood were appearing on his shirt. He was hurt? What? “Lucas! Your shirt! Your skin - What - what’s happening? Are you okay?!”

Luke didn’t want to blame the ghost, even if it wanted to hurt him. It wasn’t her fault she died. It was Gotch’s. A low sound vibrated in his chest in a growl. “Yeah--,” he said. “I just felt suddenly sideways, vertigo, tired.” As he finished speaking the familiar southern drawl carried through the graveyard and his heart stopped for two beats before it started into a fumbling race that sent a tremble to his fingertips. ‘Another person with you? So comfortable.’ Lucas refused to look towards where it came from because he knew he wasn’t in town. He’d not heal from losing an arm that fast. “I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“She’s what?” Blanche gaped at him. And then she saw her appear before her eyes and Blanche stumbled back eyes wide. This was no girl - well, it was a girl, but it wasn’t quite how it should have been. She was instantly reminded of Lauren Langley’s true form, with intestines spilling out of her body. This was different. The girl was half formed into a wolf, bones bent and broken at odd angles, strange animalistic features and tufts of fur stretched over her skin. The streaked on her face from the large bullet hole in her inhuman skull. Blanche stared in horror, shaking slightly as her stomach churned dangerously.  No, she had a job to do. She could be sick later. Come on. She could do this. She swung her bag off her shoulder. “Lucas?” Blanche said. “It’s okay. She’s here and she’s trying to stop you.” Blanche forced some semblance of calm into her voice. “Let him go!” Blanche commanded. “We’re trying to help you. Let him go.” 

Stop him. Why? ‘Wouldn’t you want to be free of this suffering?’ The disjointed voice carried through him, and Lucas staggered into a standstill when Blanche tried to speak calmly to something behind him. When he laid at night, his nightmares were mostly seeing his packmates taken away, cut up, beheaded, but also it was this shadow of a monster that lurked in the very furthest points of his vision and whispered to end it. It’s always been this way for him. He’s been terrorized too long by Gotch. His voice would always lurk. Luke starred forward, determined to keep the feeling from scaring him, though his body creaked gently in want to defend himself. “She wants me to stop,” he swallowed thickly, taking a few more steps. He blinked a few more times, refusing to believe what he was hearing, the words kept slipping by, but it ached all of him. “Fuck--” his pulse increased. “Blanche-- forward or back?” he asked. 

“Let him go!” Blanche said firmly. She pulled the iron rod from her bag, though she knew the notes she had taken that it wasn’t going to be nearly as effective as she wanted it to be. Oh hell, what was she going to do now. “Lucas, listen to me. Can you hear me. Can you come forward to me?” Blanche asked. Panic was spreading in her body, but she desperately tried to make it go far away. Far, far away. There was a part of her that wished she told Rebecca or Nigel or anyone what exactly she’d be doing today. Mind racing, Blanche had to figure out what she wanted to do now. Go back? No, the longer this thing was attached to his soul meant bad news for Lucas. She didn’t want him to be tormented for that long, he didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. Could she get the ghost to talk to her? “Look at me!” Blanche demanded. “No you, Lucas. You! The …. Girl. Hello? Can you hear me? Let him go this instant.” Blanche stepped closer to Lucas, almost ready to reach out and yank him towards her. “We want to help you find peace. Don’t you want that? Come on.”

Lucas had amber eyes on her, hair sprouted in places along the highest planes of his arms and knuckles, and he seemed heavier, almost denser as the muscles coiled in tension, but when he looked at her, it was him seeing her with a clear gaze. He refused to have this thing hurt this young woman. Luke could handle it, making him see his worst nightmares even if it made his heart thump at a dangerous pace that stirred him into a wanted shift. He’s been through worse-- he’s suffered so long-- this was nothing. Lucas was a beast with control, and he stepped forward, without restraint, nothing physically holding him back, not that a lot could against a werewolf’s strength. It was what was behind Blanche that made his stomach sour, making it so difficult to stop the paranoia.

‘I want to kill her.’ Gotch smiled and Luke almost shattered, “I can hear you, Velma,” he joked in hopes to not fall into that pitfall, pulling the first name from his pop culture list he could. Blanche’s pulse was high as well, and panic could be easily read and somehow, that was the reassurance he needed to know it was her. “Stay calm,” he took another step. “She has to do a lot to hurt me. I’ve already been to Hell.” The person behind Blanche was Gotch, missing his arm and holding a shotgun at her head. He exhaled and the side of the ghost surfaced just out of his vision near his cheek, her mangled face not the one he always saw but unable to speak from the damage. He took another step. “She hates someone. The one who killed her, it’s all she keeps saying. She keeps showing him to me.”   

Velma. Blanche let out a short laugh that sounded more like some type of high pitched tea kettle noise. “I’m as calm as I’m going to get,” Blanche replied. There was a whispering coming from the ghost that she couldn’t quite hear, and she wondered if it was because she was whispering lowly in Lucas’ ear and not to her. She didn’t want to talk to her - made sense, since Blanche actively wanted to get rid of her. But she also wanted her to find some semblance of peace. The girl would never be able to do that leeching off of people’s souls. She stared at Lucas, examining him closely for a moment. The more responsible part of her, whatever was left of that part, told her to turn back. To abandon this and come back by herself or with his brother. She met his eyes a moment. “She’s showing you things that aren’t real,” Blanche said carefully. After a moment, Blanche held out her hand to him. “Take my hand. We’ll go together, okay?”

“I have fallen for them before,” Lucas admitted, and he still couldn’t look Gotch in the eye, and a small part of him could hear Miles saying it would be extremely tough to face him in all fronts. He had to get better. When Blanche moved, and he took her hand, the illusion broke, the shotgun disappeared and the hallucination dissipated. Lucas stepped forward. His mind ached, like nails carving down his skull to believe it all. That it was real, and Lucas didn’t know if it was because he’d had nightmares for so long that he could navigate this, or because there was light before him-- Blanche’s bravery gave him pride, and appreciation. This was why you didn’t do things alone, right? He squeezed her hand to reassure her and the choice, the gravesite was close. They just had to go up a little more. Could he handle that though? Would he suddenly remember moving the dirt pressed on his face and trying to get out of the ground? 

“That’s okay,” Blanche said, quietly. She was relieved when he grabbed her hand. Gently, she lead him forward, her eyes still on the mangled form of the girl that was so desperately trying  to pull Lucas back. She didn’t understand why she was doing this - then again, Blanche supposed there was no need to know why, just that it was happening in the first place. Was that what her problem was? That she was so caught up in why things happened instead of just taking action and dealing with them as they came? Blanche didn’t know, but it caused a new round of anxiety in her. She clutched the iron rod in her free hand tighter as she pulled Lucas forward.

The weight on his soul seemed to pull and stretch. Like the ghost was tethered and bound to it and leaving his body behind like like a demented balloon. Suddenly something materialized near them and howled a broken, threatening sound. Lucas’ steps stopped, the very instinct to howl back came up without control, and he gritted his teeth as fangs crowded his mouth and his body shifted subtly, swallowing it down as his ribs creaked under his shirt. He turned around and it was Miles, with his face blown off, down to the bone, flesh hung off like a torn bed sheet, only his broken muzzle hung open to let the howl come through, and one eye illuminated and staring at him. ‘Late. Late. Late. This is what happens. Told you, I’d hurt them. I’d cut them. I’d kill him if you went to his side.’ Gotch’s voice whispered in his ear in familiar ways. Lucas stared at his brother, strong emotions a current in his chest, heavy in frustration and fear. His hand fell from hers, taking a step forward. “Don’t show me this--” 

Until he wouldn’t go anymore and she stopped too, squeezing his hand tightly. “Lucas?” She asked. She watched his inner turmoil, eyes going from between the girl and him. “Stop it! Leave him alone! Who are you?!” Blanche snapped. Shit. Lucas said a name, seeing some hallucination that she couldn’t see, turning and walking away, his hand falling from hers. Shit. Blanche rushed forward, practically running to cut Lucas off, holding her free hand up to stop him. “Lucas, look at me. It’s okay! It’s okay, it’s not real.” Blanche bit her like and then resigned herself. “Lucas, I need you to send me the map on your phone. So I know where to go, okay?” 

He closed his eyes so he wasn’t fooled. Did it mean she actually died here, and wasn’t disposed of? Did Gotch kill her so horribly? “Okay--” Luke opened his eyes, rings of gold in his brown, seeing Blanche. It was impossible not to feel this ghost’s presence now, and it was exhausting him fighting back. He pulled his phone out and quickly sent the map and plot location to her cell. “We have to go, it’s-- this is too dangerous now--” he said, wishing he could keep going but knew he didn’t want to put Blanche in any more danger. They got answers though. This wolf-- they deserved to rest. It was the least he could do. 

The ghost was wailing now. A deep, anguished howl erupted from her, and Blanche could feel it ringing in her ears. “Alright,” Blanche said softly, feeling her phone vibrate. She was overwhelmed now, over stimulated by the spirit and Lucas - it happened so often like that. It was easier to be around one instead of both, and Blanche spent the better part of her life wishing it was the live ones. But she could feel this spirit. This girl’s pain. More than that, she could feel just how desperate she was and feel just how close to breaking it was. A session or two with Rebecca hadn’t done much for her senses, other than her focuses on how different sorts of spirits felt, and if Blanche took a moment to breath, took a moment to look at the mangled body of the girl, she knew she didn’t have much time left. She reached for Lucas’ hand and pulled, this time back towards the graveyard gate. “Let’s go home,” she said. And then, she would come back later, without Lucas. So she could deal with this poor spirit herself.

[sweet-marie]

@holdoncallfailed tagged me in 2 ask memes :o) thank you my friend

10 songs i’ve been listening to lately

1. presumably dead arm (617 sessions) / sidney gish

2. funeral / phoebe bridgers

3. who knows? / natasha bedingfield

4. poem song (demo) / cyberbully mom club

5. love in the time of human papillomavirus / ajj

6. these days / dr. dog

7. i love hot nights / jonathan richman

8. in my room / the langley schools music project

9. aaron & maria / the american analog set

10. neighborhood #1 (tunnels) / arcade fire

social distancing meme

my answers to this one are mostly such downers sorry lmaoo

Are you staying home from work/school? yup i’m back home in california... not sure how online art school is gonna work! been in a sleepy stupor this whole time honestly. i have gotten nothing done

If you’re staying home, who is with you? my dad. i’m going insane. i have my dog and my bird too though

Who would be your ideal quarantine mate? i am picturing all my mutuals in a lil room on beanbag chairs making tumblr posts on our phones and ignoring each other. dream

Are you a homebody? yeah kind of but not this much :sob emoji:

An event you were looking forward to that got canceled? my parents’ divorce :/ also i was maybe gonna try to take a summer class with my favorite author but.

What movies have you watched recently? ok i need to tell you guys about this movie, please read. so i watched a freaky friday knockoff movie with my brother because he’s been really into watching the horrible movies they offer for free on youtube. and so like it was a pair of sisters that switched bodies because the grungey little sister wished on a star to be her hot older sister so that she could make out with her hot boyfriend, which she actually does do. to humiliate her the older sister goes to school in a fucking dominatrix outfit with a whip. i am not sure what the target audience of this movie is. one of the premises of the movie is that the parents are psychologists trying a new method where they let their kids do whatever they want and come to a resolution themselves so they just are like ok honey that’s fine. there’s a new neighbor boy with the exact same hair as little sister who has a crushhhh on her but then when little sister and older sister switch bodies he becomes super attracted to older sister and there’s an absolutely horrible scene where they’re in the car together and he’s like “actually your sister is physically much more my type, no offense, but we turn out to be much more compatible and it’s what’s on the inside that counts.” what the fuck !!!! and then my favorite part might be at the end when the little sister teaches the older sister math because older sister is like “i can’t focus on this word problem about 2/3 a can of paint (or whatever)! i hate the smell of paint!” and the little sister is like “what if... it was 2/3 a bottle of perfume?” and the older sister ACTUALLY GETS IT AS SOON AS SHE PHRASES IT THAT WAY movie directors were like “she can understand math in girl words :)” omg omg omg unreal 5/5 stars

What shows are you watching? recently watched the end of the fucking world season 2 and i am not okay with this. both in 1 day (each). also i watched pokemon indigo league with olivia while we were both on zoom, was epic

What music are you listening to? see above

What are you reading? SO FUCKING MUCH GARBAGE i just read a ya novel called suicide notes by michael thomas ford and i tried to read a man called ove today but it was bad and i’ve been rereading census by jesse ball (not garbage this is my favorite book) and i’m also constantly reading fucking harry potter fanfic especially snapecentric and sirius/remus whatever any of this means about me

What are you doing for self-care? god i don’t know! i clipped my fingernails today while on the phone with my mom

tagginggg @nervefood @vomitrocious123 @strangeuglywomen @luiysia @suntzuforcats @brucespringsteen @soulisnotasmithy @exeggcute @davidfosterwallaceandgromit i’m bored of listing names now but YEAH do it i’m so bored and i need to read about ur lives

[hellyeahomeland]

“The English Teacher”: an HYH recap

This mindfuck of an episode picks up about a day or so after last week’s episode. Carrie is being held in a “subbasement” (a basement in the basement?) at Langley and has started to disassociate a bit. I would too! This reality is fucked!

Anyway, a nice lawyer man comes to retrieve her and does a bit of plot exposition:

Saul hired him to represent Carrie at the preliminary hearing.

Saul arranged for Carrie’s release and also paid the bond.

Saul is letting Carrie stay at his house!

Basically Saul is being the coolest he’s been re: Carrie in like seven years.

There was a car bomb at the Afghan/Pakistani border that killed a whole special ops crew and injured one CIA officer named Jenna Bragg, who was sent back to the US out of an abundance of caution. Oh, and Jenna was called to testify against Carrie at the hearing.

Don’t fucking talk to anyone until the hearing, especially not a specific person who’s meant to testify against you, capiche?

In the West Wing, things are messy as hell. Evil Spawn John Zabel is arguing that Pakistan was behind the suicide bomb and that’s yet another reason to invade. Saul argues it was just Haqqani; after all Pakistan lost some guys too. Zabel is all, “IT’S THEIR FUCKING COUNTRY” and says Linus should resign. Mandy starts swearing at Hugh Saul starts swearing at Zabel, he’s really fucking mad. Linus envisions new ways to get swallowed whole. Maybe dinosaurs will come back from extinction? It’s just a massive screaming match—actually very entertaining—and Saul’s big solution is “backchannel talks,” and Zabel’s brain nearly short circuits at the suggestion of diplomacy instead of military invasion. Hayes just looks like he’d rather be literally any fucking place doing any fucking thing except this.

Carrie is settling into Saul’s very lovely DC home when Saul arrives, worn and weary from his no good very bad day. Although it can’t possibly have been worse than Carrie’s, which is saying something. Carrie makes her first move, pokes around a bit about the Russian asset. Saul flatly denies it, then pours himself a drink (same). He eyes a bookcase full of old, leather-bound red books and then—

It’s 1986 in East Berlin. A young Saul, played by BEN SAVAGE (that’s right, it’s CORY MATTHEWS), who does bear a striking resemblance to Mandy Patinkin, walks into a bookstore and picks up one of those same, old red books from the display. He heads into the back of the store and then a young woman enters and cocks a pistol in his direction. He brings his hands up in surrender.

The next day at Walter Reed Hospital, Carrie defies all good legal advice and pays a visit to Jenna, who’s being discharged.

Jenna: OH MY FUCKING GOD, LOSE MY NUMBER. Carrie: Ok I know you’re furious with me, just know you join a very large and enthusiastic club on that front. But please listen to me. Jenna: Furious? Dude, that special ops crew is all dead. That’s on you. Carrie: It’s horrible, I know. But a suicide bomber did that. Not me, and not you. Jenna: You’re delusional. Carrie: You join another very large and enthusiastic club in that position, but just hear me out! You have nothing to do for the next two minutes while you wait for your Uber. Jenna: Not if I speed walk! Carrie: I found the black box. Do you even care what was on it? Probs not, but I’ll just keep talking. The president’s helicopter was not shot down! It was mechanical failure. Jenna: Hm… that is interesting. So where is it now? Carrie: That hot Russian guy stole it from me. Jenna: OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU ARE A MESS. Carrie: I just need a few days to get it back. I know you’re supposed to testify and I truly don’t give two fucks what you say to them, but if you could just wait a week that would be awesome. Jenna: Well, what’s your plan? Carrie: They offered me a trade. But I can’t really say much more than that. Jenna: What is with you spies and your secrets? Carrie: Ok fine. Saul has an asset high up in the Kremlin. I need to find out who it is. Jenna:  Good fucking luck getting onto a Langley computer. Not that you’d know how to use it. Carrie: [loaded silence] Jenna: OH MY GOD. I’m tattling to Saul.

And Jenna does book it straight to Saul’s office but has to wait a bit because Saul’s on the phone with Tasneem, who is in New York City at the UN and remains maximum pissed. From the time her plane took off to when it landed the US moved more troops right along their border. Saul says some things about how everyone in the US is crazy and it’s  all very ~prescient~ but he thinks if they can just take out Jalal, Hayes and Zabel might back down. Tasneem once again claims they have no idea where he is. Saul asks for a target, any plausible coordinates. Tasneem agrees.

Enter Jenna. She is very prepared to expose just how big of a crazy person Carrie is when Saul is like, “hold up, little lady, it’s all true.” He’s taking this “back up Carrie at all costs” thing to a whole new level. He says that, no matter her mistakes, Carrie never loses sight of the bigger picture. Everything she does is in service of that. The tribunal will attempt to get Jenna to contribute to whatever bullshit charges they come up with, but Jenna needs to do like Carrie: decide what matters. Decide what kind of person she is.

Later, Carrie is at the arraignment, and the judge starts listing off charges. It’s pretty bad. Treason, accessory to murder, etc. She starts to have a tiny panic attack in the courtroom and thankfully holds her vomit for the restroom. There, she’s approached by a prim-looking woman named Charlotte Benson, “a friend of Yevgeny’s.” (Eagle-eyed viewers will recognize her from last season with Ivan.) Carrie’s like, “fuck that guy and fuck you too” but Charlotte is unfazed, hands her her card, and says they have resources. All you have to do is call.

In the simultaneously most and least surprising event of the season, at the tribunal, Jenna decides what type of person she is and it’s the type with a mind of her own. She gets about four seconds into the thing before she bolts. 

At the White House, Zabel reveals that—whadya know!—the Pakistanis did know where Jalal was. At least, they said they do. They just provided coordinates and everyone’s in the situation room waiting to pull the trigger. Saul hurries down and watches as they bomb the entire compound. “Fuck yeah!” Hayes exclaims as everyone applauds, definitely 100% sure they just killed Jalal. Saul makes a beeline for the exit and tells Linus he’s going to New York.

Later, Jenna is waiting for Carrie at Saul’s with a folder full of information. It’s about the exfiltration that Carrie mentioned that went south. The man attended a KGB language school but he spooked and Saul had to get him out quickly. Minefields and shit. He’s been in Pennsylvania in Witness Protection ever since. So he can’t be Saul’s asset but maybe he knows who is.

Jenna: You sure you want to betray Saul? Carrie: I’m 100% sure I want to do the opposite of that, but I have no choice.  Jenna: You’re right, I guess. But I’m done with all this shit. Carrie: “Done”? Never heard of it.   Jenna: I’m through with this, the CIA, all of it. Carrie: Wait, so you finally used your brain and that’s the decision you came to? You don’t have the thrill of having figured something out? You don’t feel a physical and emotional high? Jenna: Uh no?? I feel sick to my stomach about the special ops team. That comes down on me. And whoever this asset is will be tortured too. That’s my big picture. I’ve tried to see it your way, but I can’t. I just don’t believe it anymore. Carrie: Believe what? Jenna/Quinn’s ghost: That anything justifies the damage we do.

Carrie ruminates on that for about 2.4 seconds before she’s on to the next thing, which is a road trip to Pennsylvania. She arrives in her librarian cosplay, hair in a ponytail, eyeglasses, the whole shebang. She’s at the house of Saul’s old asset, the one who’s in Witness Protection. She introduces herself as Heather Frith (great fake name) and says she works as an archiver for the CIA’s Chief Historian, which is a job just fake-sounding enough to probably be real. She wants details about what happened with his exfiltration, details that aren’t in the file. He is suspicious at first, but she calls his bluff, and he takes her out to his garage to relive the story.

He describes Saul then as something of a hero. He had everything in the exfiltration down like clockwork. When one of the mines exploded, he literally carried him over the border. Carrie asks what happened to the rest of the cadets in his class, and he says they were all killed for failing to prevent his defection. She spots a woman in an old photograph then. He didn’t know her name, she just went by Comrade Instructor. She was their English teacher. Then Carrie eyes an old red book. He explains it was their method for arranging a meeting. You move the book from the right to the left side of the display window. “Very Saul. He liked the old ways. Things hidden in plain sight.”

…Which makes for a nice segue to New York City. Saul’s at UN headquarters, where Pakistan has requested a vote against the US for being general dicks and warmongers. Saul then pulls a Quinn in “Q&A” (or maybe a Carrie in “Tin Man Is Down”) and makes a huge scene at the meeting, screaming at the Russian delegation about the flight recorder. An older blonde woman translates for the delegation as he shouts. Resident hottie Scott Ryan escorts Saul out and the Russians have a powwow within earshot of said woman. What was all that about a flight recorder? One of them says Yevgeny Gromov is running an operation and leaves it at that. Cue that woman later in a rare bookstore. She eyes another of those old red leather-bound editions.

We flashback again to 1986. That woman in the bookstore is the woman holding Saul at gunpoint. She is the English teacher at the language school. She is disgusted at what happened to her students—put up against a wall and shot—and wants to take the place of Saul’s asset. Saul feigns ignorance and says she must be confusing him with someone else.

The next five minutes are a masterpiece. Back at Saul’s house in present day, Carrie finally takes an interest in his unique collection of old red books. She flips through them and notes that each has a date on the inside front cover. 11.14.2009. 3.14.95. 3.5.1987. She lines them up in the living room, by year, next to significant events in the ongoing Russian/American intelligence battle. Chernobyl cover-up in 1986. Gorbachev coup in 1989. Aldrich Ames in 1993. Robert Hanssen in 2000. Crimea in 2014. Active measures in the 2016 election. 

In his NY hotel room, Saul has a book delivery for one Professor Rabinow. Send it right up.

Carrie surveys her makeshift timeline. She picks up the next book, Vanity Fair. The subtitle on the inside reads “A NOVEL WITHOUT A HERO,” in case the audience had any doubts. She picks up another and notices the Russian spelling of “Moscow” on the inside back cover. She begins flipping through others in the timeline looking for the same tag. No, no, no, yes. She smiles that same knowing, exhilarated smile. It really is like a high. She whittles the Moscow books down to just eight now.

Saul gets his package, which is—whoulda thunk?!—an old red book, and takes it into the bathroom. Carrie examines one of the books, flipping through the pages. She checks the back cover—maybe something hidden in the lining?—but no luck.

Saul flips this new book upside down, brings the covers up in a ‘V’ to expose a space on the spine. In his living room, Carrie does the same thing. There it is: an opening, just small enough for a message. Carrie exhales, eyes wide, at the discovery. Delicately Saul retrieves a small piece of paper and holds it up to the light. He reads: “THE PRICE HAS ALREADY BEEN ASKED. IT’S YEVGENY GROMOV’S PLAY.”

A middle-aged Ben Savage playing a young Saul Berenson walks through the streets of Berlin late at night before he’s accosted by some Soviets requesting his papers. They think he’s CIA. He gets a few punches in (yes, Saul!) before running down a dead-end alley. All of a sudden he hears gunshots, braces for injury. But it’s the men who’ve been shot, and by the English teacher Anna. “Do you trust me now?” she says.

In present day, Saul stands silently in his hotel room, contemplating this new knowledge. Carrie’s lied to him about Yevgeny, that much he knows. But what else has she kept from him?

Carrie also has new knowledge, and she’s taking it straight to Yevgeny. Charlotte Benson drives her to a huge, empty mansion to speak with him.

Charlotte: Empty for two years. Owners are asking too much. Carrie: Hey, just like our show!

Charlotte leads her to a room and computer where Yevgeny is waiting on a video conference. Carrie is not at all pleased to see her Russian boyfriend.

She says that the asset exists. Yevgeny is the opposite of enthusiastic. Saul probably recruited her in East Berlin in 1986. She knows how they communicate. “How?” Yevgeny asks. “That’s not how this works,” Carrie replies, trying to maintain the upper hand for as long as possible. Yevgeny asks for a name. Carrie doesn’t have it but can get it if he provides some KGB records. She needs some stuff from the language school, but Yevgeny explains it’s all lost, burned by the “freedom lovers” after the Berlin Wall came down. They’ve gone down this road before, did Carrie really think she was the first to figure out that connection?

Carrie gets frustrated and nearly walks out of the meeting when Yevgeny reminds her of the stakes at play: America and Pakistan on the literal brink of full-scale war.

Yevgeny: Besides, you haven’t done everything you can. Carrie: Meaning what? Yevgeny: Take out Saul. That will neutralize the asset. Carrie: Saul has a legacy plan. If he goes, he has a plan to pass the asset onto someone else. Yevgeny: Yes, exactly. And that someone else is … Carrie: [mind blown] Yevgeny: …you. Carrie: You… you played me. You knew it would come to this. How long have you been planning this? Do you derive extra special pleasure from fucking with me?  Yevgeny: I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but like you said, you tried everything.

He tells her to do it—to kill Saul. Her eyes fill with tears as she shuts the computer and walks out. The lights go black behind her.