#make government officials cry again

[sweetpumpkinmouse]

Do lawmakers even know how stupid KOSA truly is as a bill, if not dangerous. Think about it: having to give ID containing SENSITIVE INFORMATION (literally against Internet Safety 101) just to go on the internet. Being a minor having to do that is so dangerous and would put them in more danger at the hands of predators.

People who have to use the internet for educational uses will have to go through stupid, unneeded steps just to look up the purpose of the mitochondria!

Trans and Queer youth are in danger. Fandom spaces are in danger. Children, the very group of people that this bullshit bill is claiming to protect, are in DANGER!

The States having full monopoly over the internet is so, so ungodly stupid and dystopian. I can’t imagine being someone not from the States and having to witness all of this.

The bill doesn’t protect kids, it only puts them in more danger.

CALL YOUR REPS! SIGN PETITIONS! KEEP KOSA TRENDING! LET PEOPLE KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING!

THIS IS AN ISSUE FOR ALL OF US! NOT JUST A SELECTIVE!

SIMILAR BILLS HAVE HAPPENED BEFORE AND BEEN STOPPED THANKS TO THE INTERNET! LET’S DO THAT AGAIN!

STOP KOSA!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Quand Tu Voudras

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: ~7.2k

TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve

A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!

Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked. 

Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times. 

But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going. 

You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt. 

You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers. 

It fits you perfectly. 

You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed. 

So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again. 

“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes. 

“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…” 

“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.” 

“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”

You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.

Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role. 

You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea. 

“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.” 

The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves. 

“Do you know how much flowers cost?” 

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”

“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.” 

“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.” 

“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying. 

“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.” 

As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?” 

You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror. 

Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head. 

Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again. 

JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it. 

You jumped. 

“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.” 

“You said yes.” 

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”

“But?” 

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.” 

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 

“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet. 

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet. 

You opened the door. “How much…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 

“You are not the pizza guy.” 

“No. I’m not.” 

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years. 

“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 

“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”

“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered. 

You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were. 

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder. 

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 

“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”

“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.” 

JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?” 

You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.” 

JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service. 

Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should. 

A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.

When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—

“You can’t win every game, Spence.” 

His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips. 

Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck. 

And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.” 

He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time. 

“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”

You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…” 

Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god. 

“Hey Emily, is everything okay?” 

“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.

“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out. 

“Is she okay?” 

Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.” 

Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.” 

JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it. 

“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him. 

Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.” 

“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”

“I know. I’m so–”

“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—” 

“I was terrified of you.”

“What…” 

Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.” 

“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”

“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.” 

JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.” 

Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.” 

Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.” 

Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop. 

“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”

You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.” 

Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying. 

“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..” 

He shook his head. 

Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.” 

“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”

“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”

You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did. 

“I love you.” 

You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.” 

His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.

“I’ll see you out there?” 

“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”

You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”

Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again. 

But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break. 

When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders. 

“Looks good, guys.” 

“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”

“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours. 

“I love it, guys, thank you.” 

JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office. 

“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed. 

Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.” 

“Good.” 

“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”

“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.” 

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked. 

“Can I come in?”

“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.” 

He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you. 

Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him. 

All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game. 

“You look…..”

“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.” 

Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.” 

Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to. 

Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore. 

Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention. 

Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day. 

But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him. 

“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.” 

“So you two spoke?”

You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking. 

“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”

“How about no?”

“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.” 

“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”

Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”

You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”  

The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation. 

“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me. 

“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.” 

“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”

“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”

“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.” 

Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet. 

“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”

“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.” 

You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”

“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading. 

“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.” 

“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.” 

This was not a good case. 

It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.

And it did. 

You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized. 

You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen. 

That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands. 

You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down. 

You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun. 

Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe. 

Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion. 

You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name. 

Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic. 

“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate. 

Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air. 

Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks. 

“Can you sit up?” 

“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…” 

You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney. 

“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.

“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain. 

“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.” 

“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered. 

Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you. 

“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm. 

Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were. 

It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both. 

You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating. 

“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.” 

“You can’t—”

“I’m gonna vomit.” 

“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”

“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat. 

“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out. 

Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital. 

Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance. 

“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.” 

“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently. 

“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?” 

He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…” 

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache. 

“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.” 

“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.” 

You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”

“Okay, yes, but—”

“And computer science is a science, right?” 

Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop. 

It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas. 

This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times. 

Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well. 

He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do. 

“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.” 

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”

His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out. 

You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything. 

But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—

“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago. 

You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD. 

“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.” 

He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down. 

The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another. 

The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it. 

Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him. 

Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right? 

Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again. 

You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other. 

And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his. 

Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying. 

“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.” 

The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal. 

“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.” 

He squeezed your hand. 

Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you. 

Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating. 

Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you. 

You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone. 

Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist. 

“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.” 

Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.” 

“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”

“Spence.”

“What.”

You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None. 

He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss. 

That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up. 

But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex. 

You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.

“What book I should read next.” 

“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again. 

“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.” 

“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.” 

This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek. 

“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.” 

Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows. 

“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”

Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved. 

And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet. 

Everything was alright. Everything was okay. 

And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said

I do. 

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1

[slytherinshua]

☾　REBORN, UNDEAD　( 성한빈 )

genre angst , fluff , vampire au , undead au , former vampire!hanbin x former vampire!fem!reader   cw blood and battle mentions (from the past in pt 2) , crying   wc 1363   request no   note for @nonononranghaee from the moot fic form (although ik you just went on hiatus but it's okay read whenever ur back !!) also please please read part 1 and part 2 of this fic series before reading part 3 because this will not make sense without reading part 2 esp!!! there will probably be a part 4 to this as well and we'll see after that. thank you so much for all the love on this series so far as well <3   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

“Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine. I won’t get hurt. I promise I won’t.”

In eighteen hundred years, Hanbin had never broken a promise to you. Until now. He was painfully aware that somehow, something had gone wrong on that battlefield. He couldn’t remember what, but something alerted him that everything was very, very wrong. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Where are you?” Hanbin’s shouts landed on deaf ears, echoing around the dark void without anyone to receive them. He didn’t know where he was, or how he ended up there in the first place. The last thing he remembered was you holding him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead with tears in your eyes. Why were you crying? Why did you look so scared?

His gaze dropped to his hands, inspecting them as if they would give him some answers. They looked normal, but something felt different. He couldn’t feel his magic surging in his veins. Before, he could sense his heart beating slowly if he focused, but now, it felt like it was pounding in his chest, so loud he couldn’t stop hearing it. He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth: no fangs. 

Was he… no longer a vampire? 

He touched his collarbone, feeling for the tattoos. They were still there, yet they didn’t react to his touch. No glowing, no surge of his powers, just stillness. He gulped. For the first time, unquenchable fear filled his body.

For hundreds of years he had learned to live a certain way. Always close to you, so that his powers could be strongest. Always in harmony between his natural body and supernatural vampiric features. He never needed to worry about sickness or the cold. He could transform into a bat at will or heal wounds, both physical and mental. 

He felt useless now, unable to do any of the things he used to. Lost, without a single direction to go towards. He couldn’t remember what he did as a human; what he used to fill his time with. It was too long ago to recall. He felt like he had just been born again, with no sense of how to go about the world. He’d have to learn all over again. But first, he was determined to find you. 

He wasn’t himself without you. You had held a part of him for too long, caring for his soul as if it was your own. If he wasn’t with you, he had no purpose. So, he took a few steps forward, slowly getting used to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. Every step took energy he wasn’t used to expending. He felt weak, as if he could pass out at any moment. A pounding headache across his forehead and a weak unstable feeling in his knees. He had never felt this weak as a vampire. 

With each step he took, more ground appeared beneath his feet. Slowly, a sort of town came into view. It was quaint. Little wooden cottages topped with red roofs. Signs pointed out the street names and directions. He stopped to read a few, figuring out which way to head next. He hesitantly chose the town centre, deciding it was a reasonable spot to start. 

People stared at him as he walked by. He didn’t care to find out why. Years of only caring about your opinions trained him to not give them a second glance. He knew his purpose, sure of himself and confident. Although he was scared to admit that his confidence was wavering without you by his side. 

He reached the town square where an official looking building stood next to a fountain. He assumed it must be the governor’s office or some mayor’s building. Maybe he could get a list of residents? He stepped up the stairs, pulling the door open to be met with a fairly empty entranceway. There was a line of counters, behind which secretaries typed away at their typewriters and scribbled on paper with pens. He walked up to one of the open spots on the counter, face-to-face with an elderly man who’s fingers flew across the typewriter with practised ease.

“How may I help you?” His accent was thick and his tone weighted down by dull tiredness. He didn’t seem fazed by whatever had caused the other residents to stare unabashedly at Hanbin. The old man barely blinked twice at him.

“I’m looking for a list of residents in the town. I need to contact someone.” Hanbin said quietly. The man nodded, muttering that he would find a list in the back somewhere. As Hanbin was left alone for the time being, he surveyed the other people in the building, each talking at the counter as well. They were too quiet for him to make out the conversations; his hearing significantly weakened since he lost his powers. One voice stood out, though.

“No, not Hanjin— I’m looking for Hanbin! Sung Hanbin.”

Hanbin’s eyes widened, his head whipping around to try to find the owner of the loud voice. 

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? He’s about 180cm tall, has dark black hair, pale skin, and a slim face. He has to be in your records somewhere.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure we can find him, rest assured. What did you say his birthday was again?”

“June thirteenth.”

“What year?”

“25.”

“1925?”

“No. 25. The year 25. Zero, zero, two, five.”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure I follow. Do you mean to say he is over nineteen hundred years old? No human has ever—”  

Hanbin had never felt his heart race so fast. Adrenaline pulled at every muscle in his body so suddenly he could hardly comprehend what was happening before his legs were rushing him over to where you stood, arguing with the lady at the counter.

“Y/n,” He called to you, and time seemed to slow as you turned your head. “Excuse us,” He mumbled quickly to the lady at the counter, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out the door of the building. He kept walking, his hold on your arm tight, afraid you would disappear. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, entranced by his appearance. Once he had found a secluded area, he stopped walking, trailing his hand up your arm to your shoulder instead.

“What happened? Where are we?” The questions flew out of his mouth. You didn’t have an answer for him. 

“I’ve been looking for you for days.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him. You touched his cheek with your hand. It felt warm. 

“What happened on the day of the battle?” He asked again, prying for an answer. You shook your head, tears falling. You just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, head against his chest. Shaky breaths in as you felt his heartbeat; steady, fast, warm. 

“I don’t want to think about it.” You told him quietly. Hanbin could only hold you, mind confused and worried. There were so many questions he had. He was sure you had the answers, if only you’d tell him. But he wouldn’t push you, not when you clearly were in a delicate mental state. 

He wished he could feel you like he used to. You had only been in his arms a few minutes, but it felt different. He couldn’t relax your body with a spell, or get a peek into your thoughts. He tried to figure you out from the outside, and that was a difficult task. 

“We should get you new clothes. These ones are soaked with blood.” You mumbled after a while, face still buried against his chest. Hanbin looked down to his sleeve, noticing for the first time that he did have very obvious stains. No wonder he got so many curious stares. He wondered what they were from. Surely, it couldn’t have been his own blood. He wasn’t injured or bleeding. 

“Y/n, what is this town?” Hanbin asked anxiously, as he spotted someone looking at you both from across the road. 

“It’s for the undead. Everyone here has already passed away, including you and me.”

“What?”

zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @nicholasluvbot,, @stantxtforabetterlife

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[tojiphile]

ALL FAIRYTALES HAVE A HAPPY ENDING + GOJO SATORU

a/n. comfort fic. non-canon compliant. slight angst but happy ending of course <3 pre-established relationship with satoru, kissing, cuddling, words of affirmation.

most nights, satoru comes home late. when you first started dating him, it used to worry you. his absence plagued you with thoughts worse than cheating. you’d spend hours wondering if your boyfriend was still safe, praying for him to just be alive.

now, you’ve come to understand—he has a role, a part to play, a cog in the machine that makes the world run, that allows it to survive. still, that didn’t mean you had to like it.

now, on most nights when he’s back home late, you’re able to crawl into your side of the bed, and go to sleep. you stir when he joins you, cuddling up into you and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “you’re home?” you’d sigh into his neck. “i’m home.” he’s reply, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you fall back asleep.

but tonight is different. you’re not one for superstitions (satoru proves them all wrong), but you can’t help but feel a sick sense of dread in your stomach. something was wrong. you ate dinner alone in front of the tv, flipping through channels. you stopped when you saw the news.

“this just in: shibuya is under attack! as of 7:00pm, shibuya has been placed under lockdown by a mysterious invisible wall. government officials are looking into the situation now. our sources tell us that the civilians trapped are crying for help desperately, all looking for one satoru gojo.”

you freeze.

“if anyone has any information on the situation, please call the hotline below…” the announcer’s words faded away as all your intrusive thoughts raced through your mind, your heart hammering in your chest. where was satoru? was he okay?

hands trembling, you reach for your phone and dial your boyfriend. it rings exactly three and a half times before the call ends. you call again, and again, and again, but he never picks up. so, you ring the only person you can think of—kiyotaka ijichi. satoru might jokingly insult the man sometimes, but all in the times you’ve been worried, kiyotaka had answered your questions, trying his best to remain calm, giving you answers as to where your boyfriend was.

he doesn’t pick up either.

you pace the living room. you know that satoru can handle anything. he was a living reminder of it. even in the times he’d come home, battered and bruised, he’d give you that same cocky grin, pointing his thumb at himself and declaring, “i’m the strongest!”

so you try your best to calm down, breathing deep breaths. whatever this was, satoru would come home. you just have to take a shower, go to bed, and when you wake up, he’ll be right there next to you, warm and inviting.

and you do just that. but as you lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling full of little glow in the dark stars that satoru helped you stick up, you couldn’t fall asleep. this was different somehow, you could feel it.

you return to the living room after pouring yourself a glass of wine. but just as you’re about to sit down, you hear the jingle of keys, a heavy sigh, a click, and the front door swings open.

“i’m home.”

satoru stands in the doorway. he looks too exhausted to move. there’s dried blood on his face and his eyes are glowing a vibrant sky of blue. you drop your of glass of wine, not caring as it shatters to the ground and race to your boyfriend. as you approach him, he finally lets his guard down, eyes returning to their normal hue.

you wrap your arms around him, clasping him tightly as you press your head into his chest. you can’t help the hot tears of relief that spill as you mumble, muffled by his clothes, “welcome home.”

he pulls you in, squeezing you tight, as if he was trying to mould the two of you together so you would never have to leave his side. he hugs you in all his despair, because you were the only reason he still fought.

after suguru passed, satoru lost the will to live. he fought, yes, he fought. but battle after battle, the bloodshed was never worth anything. there was no joy, no happiness because there was no love left to lose. he fought a good fight, but if he had lost, he would have stopped fighting.

but now, here, with you in front of him, holding onto him like he’s everything you’ve ever needed packed into a man-sized box, he knows that in your eyes, he’s more than just a figure of greatness. gojo satoru is simply a man who has wants and needs and flaws and feelings.

so for you, who sees him for him, he fights. everyday, he fights to come back home to you, to take you in his arms and hold you tight. he wants to press his body against yours and feel your warmth, and he doesn’t want to let it go even as he sees the morning light.

he kisses the top of your head and whispers, “i promised you i’d come home. i don’t break my promises. and after all…”

you can feel him smile into your head, “i am the strongest.”

(extra:

at his cheeky comment, you give him a firm whack on his buttocks, and he yelps in surprise, pulling away from you.

“mean!” he pouts, “i just got back from a long fight and won against the king of curses! shouldn’t you, my lovely girlfriend, be taking care of me?”

you shoot him a glare. “i thought you died! don’t play around at a time like this!”

he chuckles, “aw, was my poor baby worried about me?”

satoru wraps you up in another an embrace, but as you’re about to return he hug, you let out a yelp as he throws you over his shoulder and says, “let me take care of you now!”

you try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s holding onto your waist tightly. you can only see his ass from this point of view but you yell at him anyway, “i hate you!”

a smile. “i love you too.”)

[oatmealmika]

What Are They Like On Social Media (Headcanons)?

feat. luffy, zoro, nami, sanji, usopp, robin, franky, and brook

requests open for other things like this!

Luffy

nami made him make an Instagram account and he did so... BUT NOT WITHOUT DOWNLOADING 8 VIRUSES THE MOMENT HE GOT ONTO IT

he started clinking on every ad he saw, of course, and now he's got to pay 100000 dollars by the end of the month or else world government will find him.

he took that as a challenge.

basic, but his username is kingofthepirates or strawhat69 or something

maybe even a pun or some shit bro

follows anybody he even slightly likes and comments dumb shit on all of their posts.

ex; luffy commenting on a post robin made w chopper "can you ask him if reindeers are real?"

takes weird angled photos of his friends and posts them (ex. forehead shots)

Zoro

username is bestswordsmanofficial

usually posts training videos, but also sometimes puts on his story a cry for help to his friends cuz he got lost again

also not the most tech savy guy

i get vibes he would straight up record himself coughing to death and post it

he went viral once, actually.

was dragged by nami to be a backup dancer for one of her tiktoks

stiffly dancing

on snapchat, he uses weird filters like the broccoli one and just sent it to everyone he knew.

Nami

username is nami.venmo.me

probably makes scams in order to get money

she has two accounts; a scamming account and a real account (both under similar usernames actually)

on snapchat, she and usopp have a 200+ snapscore

they both contemplated jumping ship when they messed it up..

matching pfps with usopp too! ex.;

nami is cookie monster, usopp is screaming man

Sanji

username is lovecook_sanji

other than posting the food he makes, he also posts aesthetic photos of him crying💀

ALSO posts photos of baths with rose petals that he only made cuz he wanted to be desperate in the caption like "such a beautiful place... i just wish that... someone could share it with me... :("

out here posting "i wish i was beautiful :(" posts for attention and zoro out here commenting back "i wish you were too💀"

blocked zoro after that

tags ONLY nami and robin in his posts whenever he posts the group

"the rest of them are just some guys 🙄"

Usopp

username is god..usopp

also is in charge of the strawhat official social media accounts

nami makes the aesthetically pleasing posts while usopp posts the funny hahas

like that time luffy slipped off ship with his mouth full of food (and bcuz he can't swim w his devil fruit) so he almost sank to the bottom

plugs his personal acc on the strawhat official acc too much

luffy used to be the manager of the account but that acc got banned...

so usopp was given the job to make a new one and manage it (no luffy you can't write the caption)

Robin

username is nico.robin

mostly posts about the books she's been reading, such as reviews

formats them nice and neatly

all her posts are very aesthetically pleasing

besides book reviews, she posts a lot of chopper

she's like a mom in that way making her kids pose for photos and takes photos as much as possible

overall very pretty account

Franky

username is franky_da_cyborg

when not posting inventions, he posts crewmates doing random things

doesn't have to be weird at all most of the posts are just straight up usopp making a sandwich or robin reading

all posts are very low quality tho lol

Brook

username is musician-brook

obv posts him playing music but also posts himself saying terrible dad jokes

"singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. then it's a soap opera."

he got the phone confiscated for that one

apart of nami's backup dancers for her tiktoks

actually works it

go grandpa go!

all right reserved. do not repost or copy my work but relogging, comments or feedback is very much appreciated! Thank you.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Certification || One Piece ||

Based off this

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Death of a major character (Spoilers), hint of pregnancy (at the end), fem reader

Words: 1.4k

A/N: I finally watched the Marineford Arc and this is how I'm coping. Let me know what ya'll think and if you want more Ace fics. This is my first one piece fic and hopefully I did it justice. Also it took me some time to figure out the timeline of Ace in Impel Down until I finall said fuck it, I do what I want.

You were six the first time you married Ace, only because it was all he could do to get you to stop crying. After he declared himself a future pirate, you had done the same. In your six year old eyes it was the only way to stay by his side. He immediately shattered your plans by saying you weren’t allowed. Cue the water works and him instantly panicking. He wasn’t equipped to handle crying girls.

“You can’t become a pirate,” he says and it only makes you cry harder. “Because… Because you’re gonna be my wife!”

That instantly shut you up, staring at him with a tear stained and snotty face. He had his gaze averted from yours as he blushed the deepest shade of red you've ever seen.

“Y-Your wife?” you ask suddenly beaming at the idea.

He still doesn’t look at you as he nods, embarrassed to have said something like that out loud. So much for being a pirate. But when he saw the wide smile on your face and your eyes gleaming with joy, he would have said it all over again.

You had a ‘wedding’ a few days later because you couldn’t wait. It was just you and him hidden away in the woods. You made a veil out of an old blanket and he found the rings. Which were just two rubber bands that didn’t even fit on your finger then.

You wanted it to be real so you managed to steal an actual wedding certificate. You made him sign it after your fake ceremony and with a red face, he promised to deliver it to government officials. You never confirmed if he did or didn’t. For months, you told everyone in the village who’d listen that you were Ace’s wife.

After that, your fake wedding went unspoken about as the two of you grew up. But the reminder was always there, even as Ace’s intentions grew. He was still determined to become a pirate no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise. When he wouldn’t back down, you’d fight back by telling him you were coming with.

You were fourteen when he mentioned your fake marriage for the first time in years. It reignited feelings you thought you’d long locked away. And it very much worked in his favor. To be fair, it was a complete accident on his part.

“If you wanna become a pirate so bad, then I will too!” you argued.

He looked at you with a scowl on his face and shook his head. “No, you aren’t!”

“Says who?”

“Says me. You’re never becoming a pirate and that’s final.”

“It’s my life, Ace! I can do what I want with it,” you shout, shoving your face in front of his in a fit of anger.

“And you’re my wife! You should have the decency to listen to me,” he yells right back.

You were ready to continue your argument only to be stopped short. Your face turns red as you register what he says. His does the same, reaching up to the tips of his ears. You stagger backwards to make room between the two of you, blubbering away as you do.

There was a lot of awkward confessing after that, mainly on Ace’s part. Turns out he never really forgot that day and after seeing how happy it made you, he swore to make you his actual wife one day. You called him an idiot and happily sobbed in his arms when he admitted that.

Ace was seventeen when he finally set off to become a pirate. You still pleaded with him not to leave but it only fell on deaf ears. Becoming a pirate was his dream, one he couldn’t let go of.

“You said I was your dream!” you yell.

Your hands meet his chest and you push him away from you. You were crying and he was trying to reason with you. You didn’t want to hear it. You hated him, you hated him and his stupid dream of becoming a pirate.

He let you fight him, push him, hit him; whatever you needed to let your anger out. He stood still as your fist weakly struck his chest and your sobs rang in his ears. When you gave up, you leaned on him and buried your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you as you cried.

“You are my dream,” he says. He holds you gently, cradling you close to him, speaking with a tone that matches his actions. “That’s why I need to do this. I’ll become Pirate King and protect you.”

You wanted to call him an idiot but your voice only came out in sobs. You didn’t want him to protect you, you wanted him to stay by your side. You wanted to be his wife like he promised. But you couldn’t deny what he wanted to do, knowing you’d get here eventually.

“I’ll come back and we’ll get married. We’ll have a family and we’ll do anything you want.”

His hands move to cradle your face, pulling it towards his own. He pressed his lips to yours and his kiss sealed his promise.

He left the next morning after spending the previous night together. With nothing more than a note and the same rubber band he gave you when you were six. You thought you’d lost it long ago, it slipped off your finger sometime when you were a kid. This time it fits perfectly on your ring finger.

You hardly saw Ace during the next three years and when you did, he hardly stayed. You’d spend a few nights together and he was always gone before you woke up. You know he did that so he didn’t have to say goodbye. The last time you saw him was shortly before he faced Blackbeard.

You were twenty when you finally married Ace and he wasn’t even there for it.

There’s a knock on the door and you struggle to get up from your seat. You rub at your eyes and take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door. It’s someone who comes to deliver a package for you. You’re quick to accept it before closing the door and hiding away in your home.

You sit back down and set the large envelope next to the letter you’ve already opened. You don’t rush to open it but something tells you to do it. Call it intuition.

The contents inside make you sob loudly, thinking the universe is playing some cruel joke. It’s a letter congratulating you on the finalization of your marriage certificate. The same one you signed when you were six years old, the one you made Ace sign too.

You never actually thought he sent it in, you were just kids then. What government official did you actually know? Truth be told, he kept it until he left to become a pirate. He really meant what he said, you’d become his wife one way or another. Since you were still underage, it wasn't accepted as valid. Until now, when a certain marine had it validated in his honor. It was the least he could do for him and for you.

You set the letter down, next to the one you got hours ago. The one that told you about Ace’s demise, killed at Marineford. The universe was cruel indeed. You wrap your arms around your stomach, shielding the small bump that’s started to form. You sob as you hold yourself, protecting the last piece of Ace you had.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Refering to Twin Sun AU:

Wait, so where's Macaque when the pilgrims meet Wukong's brother? Where's his hot goth boyfriend to show off to the pig?!(He can so get bitches, he just has an acquired taste unlike the greedy piglet!)

Like, if Mac kept going back to the mountain while he was imprisoned, even if they argued a lot, wouldn't Macaque be on FFM helping take care of their home? Wouldn't he be there for introductions after they come to apologize? Was he hiding in wukong's room with him when they first showed up and comforting his crying boyfriend? Are they official at that point or just besties dancing around each other still? Is he visiting DBK's family? Will he show up during Redson's arc? I don't think he would miss out on the chance to show up and spook Wukong's new friends if given an actually valid chance to do so, he's kinda petty like that, the sassy bitch. Where's my favorite emo monkey?!

I feel like Macaque still takes a break from FFM for a bit after a few decades to find himself artistically - in a lot of aus I have him train under the Nine-Tailed Vixen. And since Luzhen is at home governing everything (albeit with a lot of help from the Stalwarts) Macaque wouldn't feel much guilt in going on the road.

As long as he's able to return to Five Point Mountain at least once a year.

I love the imagery of Wukong running home after the White Bone Arc, believing that he's lost the closest companions he's had in centuries - only to see Macaque standing there in their bedroom, pretending as though he hadn't rushed home at the sounds of his mate's release upon the wind.

Wukong collaspes into his mate's arms, sobbing from a mixture of frustration and loss of his party, and of relief and joy of seeing Macaque in their home again.

Macaque is ready to murder that monk if he ever dares step on to their island.

Luzhen almost beats his brother-in-law to the punch with that one. Luckily the Stalwarts, Sha Wujing & Ao Lie, and Wukong himself stop that from happening.

As they're all hashing out their demands, a deep enchanting voice comes from the Palace doors.

It's Macaque, deliberately unglamoured and dressed in silk bedclothes befitting a King's spouse. His hair toussled as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

Wukong is confused by Macaque's choice in fashion until he sees Zhu Bajie's expression.

The very same pig who had goaded their master out of spite of Wukong "ruining his chance" with the White Bone Demon, was now staring jaw-dropped at who Wukong had waiting at home for him.

Wukong's face goes red from blushing, and he socks Bajie in the face for oogling his goth bf.

Macaque still doesn't trust Tripitaka. His own sense of premonition tells him that the monk will betray their trust in the future. He wants Wukong's circlet off Yesterday.

But Tripitaka cannot remove the Circlet. Only the Buddha himself can.

Macaque growls with frustration - and threatens that if Tripitaka ever uses the Headache Sutra again, then Macaque will personally take the voice from the Monk's throat before taking his mate home with him.

Macaque occasionally pops up along the Journey - whether working/performing for his Vixen mentor, or just to check that the Pilgrims are keeping their promises. Even just to step out of the shadows and terrify them at quiet moments. And ofc to smooch Wukong as they did whenever they met under the Mountain each year - the Golden-Eyed king watching his mate emerge from the darkness like he's the moon itself.

Misfortune does happen to Macaque though. Something that leaves him minus an eye. Perhaps a version of what happens in the Jttw Stone Egged au between him and the Brotherhood - the shadow far more quick to denounce his former brothers with the confidence a healthy marriage and a supportive brother-in-law has brought him.

Luzhen is very proud of how Macaque makes things up to Wukong, though he'd never say it.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.27

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat’s been more than exhausted these past few weeks as she drafts up argument after argument that she can use against the government to justify why she and her fellow Avengers shouldn't be put on a leash. She knows it’s a long shot and she doesn’t have enough witness accounts or evidence yet but she’s been hearing about the crime rate spike through the rumor mill and she hopes that soon enough she’ll have enough to come back.

She can bring her family back and finally have you. If you’ll still have her after all of this is over. She knows you’d have every right to be mad but she hopes you’ll understand enough to at least let her take you on one date.

The rain pelts outside of her window as it has been for the last three days and she sighs as she lies back on her pull-out bed. If it were under different circumstances she might’ve been able to appreciate the break from the city and the pressure. Maybe she could even come back to these woods with Clint, or Wanda, or…You.

She’s working hard to make sure her family is safe, yes, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t working this hard to also see you again. To finally know what it feels like to hold you, to run her fingers through your hair, and hear you laugh again. The thought of you has been the only thing that’s brought her comfort these past few weeks.

Her computer dings with an email and she shoots up immediately, grabbing the shiny object from the side table next to her and pulling it onto her lap. She wasn’t expecting any emails while she was out here and her mind jumped to the worst-case scenario: they’d found her location.

The email is from an unknown sender which only makes her more uneasy and she’s more frustrated than anything that she’ll have to find a new place to hide when she recognizes the encrypted link hidden in the email's coding.

It was a website Clint had created just for the two of them to communicate in case there was ever a situation similar to this. She’s afraid to admit just how comforting it was to hear from someone close to her after weeks of no contact. She quickly opens the website and reads the messages.

Clint-

Hey Natty, hope you’re having fun wherever you’ve parked that trailer of yours, Tony’s been a real pain in the butt but we’re trying to negotiate some better terms with some government officials. I know you’re probably working on a solution of your own but I’ve got to at least pretend like I contribute to this group-

She snorts at the self-jab, knowing her fellow Avenger couldn’t care less about the insults people say about him being the least skilled Avenger. She always admired that about him.

Clint-

Anyway, your phone’s been blowing up. I think Tony is getting suspicious so I took it and hid it in my room. I think you’re gonna be in deep shit with your girlfriend when you get back haha. 

I attached the voicemails you’ve been getting, I didn’t listen to them but I saw who they were from. Thought they might be important.  

Nat’s heart pounded as she stared at the attached files, there were at least 30 voicemails from you varying in different lengths and part of her was scared to open them. There was no doubt a few of them were just you yelling at her but even then she’d missed the sound of your voice so much that she’d take your irritation over anything else.

She hesitates over the first voicemail with her cursor but clicks it before she can sike herself out. There’s a little bit of silence and she wonders if you’re going to talk before she hears a small sniffle and her heart breaks. She swore to herself she’d never make you cry and now she’d failed, the sound of your quiet crying echoing throughout her trailer only amplifying her defeat.

It's another thirty seconds before your voice finally breaks through. It’s rough and raw and she can tell you’d probably been crying for a while.

“Nat? Where did you go? Why’d you leave? Listen- we don’t have to meet if you don’t want to. We can keep texting forever just don’t ghost me like this. Please.” It’s short and by how broken your last word sounded she can tell you were probably thrown into another fit of sobs after you ended the message. 

Nat doesn’t know what to do with herself, her body feels frozen and her heart won’t stop sinking further into her stomach. She’s never heard you sound so unsure of yourself before and it tears her apart that she’s the one who made you that way. It takes her a few minutes to muster up the courage to click on another one.

“What kind of person just says ‘I’m sorry?’ I deserve a better explanation than that! You couldn’t have at least lied to me about going to save baby animals in Africa where there’s no cell service? At least then when you stopped responding I could’ve felt better!” She’s not surprised that you’re mad at her, you deserve to be, but it doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at her chest when she hears how irked you are.

The next few are similar in the fact that they’re either angry or spoken through tears but they slowly begin transitioning into something else. Eventually, you stop talking about her leaving and start talking about yourself. What you did that day, what you’re making for dinner, the cat you’ve been visiting at the cat cafe. There’s still a hint of sadness in your tone but she can tell the calls are a form of therapy for you. A way for Nat to be there when she’s not really there.

She wants to be there. She wants to be the one you’re talking about your day with, wants to cook you dinner while you sit on the counter and visit the cat cafe with you. It hurts that she can’t do that and as she’s listening she feels her eyes burn with tears. She refuses to let them fall. She’s not the one who gets to cry in this scenario and yet her eyes refuse to give up their unshed tears.

There’s one last voicemail from a day ago and she clicks on it expecting it to be like the others but much to her surprise you’re talking about her again.

“I think I’m mad because I can’t even bring myself to hate you for it. I know you’ve probably got some shit going on. I understand that, trust me. But- I don't know you could’ve… maybe it’s too much of me to ask you to fill me in on the situation- or let me know when you’d be back… Is this goodbye?” 

 Your static voice rings out into the silence and Nat hates how you sound. Reserved- almost accepting. Like you’ve convinced yourself she’s never going to respond again and she hates it. She hates that she made you so insecure that you think she isn't spending every hour thinking of you and how to get back to you. 

The sound of your voice fills her with even more determination as she begins redrafting her court argument. She was going to come back to you, you just had to wait for her a little longer.

Pt.28

A/n: Aww Nat :( ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime

[blacklegsanjiii]

im kind of imagining for revolutionary!sanji that maybe theres a moment in alabasta where luffy and ace say something that sabo always used to say, maybe an inside joke, and everyone is confused but sanji kind of unintentionally mutters "youre just like sabo" and their heads snap towards him. cue an intense and furious interrogation that sanji is trying to evade bc he thinks sabo maybe pissed them off during a mission and they have no clue how the fuck sanji knows their dead brother's name

maybe not canon to your au but a fixit alternative?

Oh my gosh..... Ace and Luffy pester Sanji until they find out who Sabo is.

Sanji who is just watching these two feral adults, one of which lit his cigarette with his fruit. He's mentioned offhandedly having a brother he doesn't get to see often. Probably only once like when he talks about being from the North Blue. Sanji can't talk about a lot of stuff just because of how high ranking he is the Revolutionary Army.

So he's watching them and all the dumb shit they're doing and is just like "you're both just like Sabo" under his breath and they whip around to look at him. He doesn't know Sabo is their dead brother and they didn't know another Sabo could exist in the world. When Luffy and Ace ask about him Sanji doesn't really answer.

Can't risk whatever Sabo is doing right now. They keep pestering him throughout Alabasta. After a while Sanji is like "he's my brother! Okay! I don't get to see him a lot!" And then Luffy rubbers his way into Sanji's pockets and finds a photo of him and Sabo in their early teens, Sabo who has a massive scar covering one of his eyes and going into his hairline. Ace and Luffy are just staring at it and crying because that's their brother and everyone is confused and Nami and Zoro are hitting Sanji because he didn't tell them!

"It's not my fault Sabo never mentioned them! And it's not Sabo's either because he doesn't have his memory from before showing up!" Sanji defends himself and Sabo and everyone is like "he's at Baratie?" And Sanji shrugs and says he doesn't know where Sabo is right now and he probably won't for a while. It's just how it is.

ALTERNATE MARINEFORD BELOW

Fuck it if this happens Sanji is like "Hey, we need to get to Marineford right now." To Sabo and Sabo is like "SWEET WE'RE FUCKING UP AN EXECUTION AND DRAGON DOESNT KNOW!"

Sanji and Sabo make it and Sanji is dressed in his Revolutionary best. Ace and Luffy are looking at these blond dumbass revolutionaries. And once Ace is free and Sanji and Sabo send them to the White Beard fleet Sanji and Sabo are grinning at these top Government officials like "haha dragon is going to be pissed" only for Ivankov to have them scruffed and hauled off too.

"I would expect better from our chief of staff and head of espionage! Honestly, what do these two have do with you two?" Ivankov demands as they gesture between the four of them and Sanji is like "well he's my Captain, he's my Captains brother, and they think the know Sabo from before times."

Ivankov is looking between them as Ace is reeling because he almost died, his pops did die, Luffy saved him, his other dead brother is alive and the cook is a revolutionary and so is his dead brother and they are high ranking? What the fuck? Also the before times?

And Ivankov is just leaning over them like "explain yourselves, we raised you better than this!" As Sabo and Sanji point out they were raised soldiers and Sabo doesn't remember anything before showing up on Baltigo when he woke up to Sanji staring at him. Koala grabs Sabo's pipe and nails both of the blonds with it and screams obscenities that belong in the void century.

Sabo is blinking at Sanji as blood is running down their faces then at Ace and Luffy. "If that's all it took to bring your memories back I'm going to hit you again." Koala threatens and Sabo fucking runs from her making her give chase and Ivankov is muttering to themself as Koala chases Sabo around the ship. And seeing an opportunity to make it worse Sanji is like "Koala, look at this!" As he lights his legs on fire.

Sabo throws Sanji into the ocean and Koala hits him with the pipe like a baseball sending Sabo flying after him. Ivankov can't believe this is head of espionage and the chief of staff. Ace and Luffy are crying their brother is alive but also very confused at the pipe weilding woman who just brained both Sanji and Sabo. She's kind of scary.

[nikolai-vincent]

Y'all I have a big list of Byler things and I need help to make sure that everything I've stated is actually true and not my mind making things up💀🤣🤭 so prepare for a long list and I'll cut it down so it doesn't take years if you wanna scroll by it lmao

Mike tried calling Will all the time while he was in Cali (& could be the reason for weird airport interaction) Mike can't use a telephone to talk to El bc of of government listening in, so Dustin's words are about Mike calling Will but not being able to reach him.

It wasn't love at first sight, the offical season 1 trailer with the scene where they first find El, Mike's first thought is "That's not Will." And also this is Mike's plan to get rid of her from the night they found her, even though he is supposedly already in love with her since he said he loved her the moment he saw her?🤨

His monologue didn't help/wasn't fully true, El didn't have a single flashback of her and Mike throughout their whole relationship except for when they found her in the woods. They've been dating for roughly 9 months before breaking up for 3, then getting together again and currently at 6 months (so 1 year and 3 months of officially dating, having known each other fully for 3 years, although not fully because she was gone for a whole year) and yet she didn't have a single other memory besides the night they saved her?

Mike and El didn't speak that much for 2 full days while they were stuck in the van?? Even after Mike's love confession, all El was apparently talking about was how she feels like she lost the battle with Vecna and how Brenner had put it into her head and stuff.

Mike has a sort of superhero idealization for El. He's mentioned multiple times that she's a superhero, she's a machine that can help find Will, and it's shown throughout the seasons how much Mike loves superheroes. In my opinion, that's not a super great thing to compare your girlfriend to, especially after she has shown to want to be more than that, but feels like that's all she's good for now.

They never see eye to eye/always disregard the others feelings/attempt to be understanding. All of their arguments I've seen, they both try to be understanding at first, but then they shut each other down and speak for the other person when they're doubting each others thoughts (one scene perfectly showing this is their fight in El's room in season 4).

Mike and El knew each other for roughly a week (at 12 years old) before getting together and then immediately getting separated for a whole year, only to become reunited and jumping immediately into a relationship at 13 and ignoring their friends to only kiss each other for 6 months and not deepen their bond emotionally?? Then they break up like it's nothing and Mike doesn't know what she likes when he tries to buy her a gift to apologize (only after Lucas says something) (then getting into a fight with Will for the first time and apologizing as soon as possible on his own choice).

Mike has issues saying I love you (tried saying it once in s3 and couldn't even say the word "love", instead going for "blank makes you crazy" which El didn't understand. Only time he says it was in a high stress situation and he blurted it out to everyone except her, with a look of shock and confusion. S4 he doesn't say it at all, writing "from, Mike" all the time, to which he is confronted by her and only is able to say "I care for you... so much." And "I say it." ("It" being I love you) (which is a lie) That fight in El's room would've been the perfect time for him to tell her he loves her after he sees her crying to him about it, he could have perfectly said something like, "El, of course I love you. I'm sorry I don't say it, I'm just not used to feeling this way, but thank you for talking to me about it, I'll try to work on it." Or something to comfort her. In the end he is only able to say it in a high stress situation (AGAIN) and only after having a whole speech from Will, and needing Will to tell him not to stop and to say whatever it was he couldn't before. (Which, Will didn't know that Mike couldn't say I love you to her) Mike was given false hope that El needed him and felt better for being different because of him, which was a lie and those feelings were from Will himself, his speech was a veiled love confession.

Mike subtly (or unintentionally) compared both of his relationships with Will and El by saying that meeting Will "was the best thing he's ever done" but meeting El was "Not fate. Not destiny. Just simple, dumb luck." (He chose to befriend Will, by actively going up to him and asking, whereas he didn't choose to meet El, it was an accident).

Mike struggles to switch his focus between El and Will, we've seen throughout all of the seasons how Mike acts with Will and how he acts with El, and I'll be honest, they're pretty similar. He's soft, sweet, and casual with Will, and he's nice, gentle, and kind with El (just in general, relationship stuff aside). But then you put them in the same room and Mike doesn't know how to act properly with either of them, and we honestly don't see the real interactions with these three until season 3. I've noticed a lot that when Mike and El are in a relationship, they ignored everyone and just made out, but after they broke up, the whole group was together and had no issues with doing so (I guess the flayed helped with that, though lol).

Will is the only person that Mike will immediately try to apologize to if he did something wrong, whereas anyone else he blames others and doesn't apologize until someone tells him to (examples: Dustin told Mike to apologize to Lucas in season 1 after they fought, Mike was blaming Lucas and didn't want to apologize even though Mike was the one that started the fight. He didn't apologize to El in season 3 for the way he was acting, instead choosing to lie and needing help from Lucas on what to get for El as an apology (again, Mike knows nothing about El by this point still), and yet later on after he has a fight with Will, he bikes to Will's house to apologize, he blames himself, calls himself an asshole (with Lucas following, not leading). Seasone 4, the second fight that Mike and Will have is in the skating rink, Mike calls Will a douche and says he sabotaged the whole day by moping, rolling his eyes, and not talking but later on he goes to Will and immediately starts apologizing and says he was being a self pitying idiot, and telling Will that he wasn't being a douche and Will didn't deserve to be called that).

Mike and Will are very different compared to their friendships with Dustin, Lucas, or Max. (With proof being from Mike himself, saying "Max and Dustin and Lucas.. they're-they're great.. they're great, it's just-it's Hawkins, it's not the same without you. And maybe I was worrying too much about El, and I feel like I lost you or something." (Something along those lines lol)

The Duffers have compared Mike and El's relationship to Elliot and E.T, a friendship between a kid and an alien.

El was upset with Mike during the cabin cleaning scene (giving him a side eye and sighing heavily before going to her room) after Mike's supposed love confession.

Mike agreed (by nodding) when Will was talking in the desert about how it's scary to open up to people you care about the most bc of them possibly not liking the truth (Will was comforting Mike about El during this, sort of) (Why would El not like the truth if the truth was that Mike loves her?? Sus).

Mike showed a big difference in priority when it came to searching for Will vs El. In season 1 after Will went missing, Mike (+ the party) was told by the police to stay home and not interfere in the investigation. Mike disobeys and goes out (+ the party) to search for Will in the dark and rain. After meeting El, they use her as a weapon to continue searching for Will. After finding Will's "body" in the quarry, Mike switches on El and is mean and blames her for not telling the truth about Will. El then shows Mike through the walkie-talkie that Will is alive and Mike believes her (even after seeing Will's body, he has hope again that Will could be alive), he's nice to El again after this. Vs, when El goes missing at the end of S1 and going into S2, Mike believes she's dead (although not seeing a body), and doesn't go searching for her. He sees her through the window on the same night she disappeared, but he never goes out to look for her. The only thing he does for the whole year is try to talk to her through a walkie-talkie, but he never leaves his house to try and find her (even though he's seen proof of her being alive) while she's gone, Mike's priority is fully focused on Will and his possession. In season 3, Hopper threatens Mike to stay away from El (similarly to what he said about staying home and not looking for Will in season 1) and he immediately agrees and doesn't try to see her.

Mike has a lot of familial/platonic parallels with El's father figures than he does romantic, he's always paralleled with Brenner (with proof in season 4, the "what did you do?" / "what have you done?" scene at the rink) which is so bad and sad, and some scenes similarly with her and Hopper.

Gotta say it, Mike has looked at Will's lips multiple times (at least 4, off the top of my head) (which is 4 times more than he has with any of his other friends probably) and he barely does it with El. If it was a mistake during filming, they would've shot it again, bc they were obvious but they stayed in.

And just with the way Mike looks at Will compared to his other friends or even El, that boy looks more in love than the one canonically in love.💀

In both season 1 and season 2 (besides their first kiss and the snowball (which weren't planned originally, I believe)) Mike has never been the one leaning in or attempting to kiss El, he just stands and stares confused as she does all the work.

Mike has Will's art all over his basement from when they were children (and some in his room, I think?) But he throws away and crumples all of the letters he receives from his long distance girlfriend? Sus.

The difference in Mike's reactions to being broken up with romantically vs platonically in season 3. His face shows a sort of disgust and almost guilty when El breaks up with him, and his face is full of guilt and sadness when Will tells him he wanted to stay with him forever.

Mike was fruity af during his apology to Will in S4 Ep4 just saying.

Canonically Mike only smiles in pictures when Will is in them as well. (Photos in tags bc I'm at the limit😔)

It's been confirmed that Mike is clueless about Will's feelings for him, so I'm wondering why he was so affected by the 6 months away with only a couple phone calls that lead to him not even wanting to hug Will at the airport (even though he saw how happy and excited Will was to see him again) when he hugged Will perfectly fine at the end of S3 (even though they never actually resolved their first fight in the rain?) Hm. Sus.

Mike has Smalltown Boy on his (OFFICIAL) spotify playlist?? A song about "the need for gay men to flee small-town intolerance and pursue reinvention in the big city. " ???

Just a cute thing about Mike and Will beings friends since the first day of kindergarten (when they were 5 years old) and having the longest friendship out of everyone in the party.

Kind of iffy about this one but the song Tarzan Boy was playing at the roller rink (a song about being free and doing what you want) when Will, Mike, and El were at the table. (Probably not a lot of significance but still a thing).

From an outsiders perspective, Mike and El were not happy when they were skating at the rink together, from Will's perspective, they were super happy and laughing together while Will was left behind. This is shown when Angela walks into the rink with her friends, we see Mike and El from her pov and their faces are very stoic while they hold hands.

That's all I have for now, I've had these written in my notes for like 2 years lmao but please, if you've even gotten this far, let me know if anything looks inaccurate and I'll fix it:) and also feel free to add anything you've noticed as well! I'd love to see it.

[a-spes]

hello! i noticed ur taking requests! this is hella detailed so no worries if u dont wanna write! one with female reader x nat (preferably platonic but either works). the averages break up. they are done. Officially. nat and r were friends on the avengers and worked together a lot. when the avengers broke up, everyone tried to move on or settle down. nat doesn't. nat, missing the action, reverts back to her time as a for-hire assassin. With the connections from her time as an assassin pre-SHIELD she builds a name for herself. She becomes the most feared assassin yet again and a ruthless criminal. no one can stop her and she’s very dangerous. Finally, reader, working for the government now, and faces Nat for the first time in years… as enemies with r trying to take Nat down. Nat has the upper hand with her network of spies and criminals. But does Nat really hurt her? She has the ability to with her skill and network of assassins. Does r get what they want and take Nat down? ANYWAYS this is long and kinda specific; but thank you so much! Love all your writing!

S T O L E N F R E E D O M - One shot.

Words count - 5,1k.

Tags & Warnings - villain!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader (platonic, enemies), mentions of death/violence/blood, angst.

Moodboard here.

N/A - Hope you'll enjoy it and it's not too far from what you were expecting! It's the first time I am writing for a request and I really enjoyed it, so thanks for dropping it <3

It’s past two in the morning and you are alone in the office. Only the night guards are here but they don't dare to ask you if everything is fine. The past months, they've got used to you staying that late and learned to not ask too many questions. From time to time, you could hear their muffled voices and steps breaking the thick silence. 

But it’s not their presence that is slowly driving you crazy: it is the regular ticking of the wall clock. It seems to be the only thing you can hear, it’s even louder than your thoughts, and being unable to concentrate is only adding to your frustration. You are not far from crying because of how hopeless you are feeling.

If you've got into the habit of spending most of your nights at work, it’s only because of how incompetent you are, unable to complete the task assigned to you. A few months ago, you found a file on your desk and, if at first you thought it would be as easy as the previous ones, you were wrong. You quickly changed your mind when you only saw a long list of deaths but nothing else. For the first time, you've found yourself struggling to complete a mission.

You were looking for a ghost.

The only proof you have of their existence are the crimes they commited, the cold bodies they’re leaving behind them. Even the autopsy didn't give any information about how it happened, it’s almost like the victims just died on their own. This mission makes you regret how cocky you acted in the past. You used to think that you could complete every mission, even the most difficult ones, but eventually realized that it doesn't matter if you are among the most skilled S.H.I.E.L.D agents because there is always someone better than you are. 

This time, you were as lost as your colleagues, understanding what they're usually going through. Slowly, you've become so obsessed with this mission that you couldn't think about anything else. You are trapped in a toxic loop with your work and, if you thought the time you would act like that was long gone, you were wrong: this mission is taking you back to your worst era again.

In the morning, you are the first one to be here, but you are also the last one to leave the place - when you do, sometimes spending the whole night here just so you don’t lose time going home and coming back. It is rare that you think about eating, your mind being completely absorbed by the task. Again, you were that young adult that wanted to prove their worth to everyone, seeking validation.

Despite everything, you keep telling Fury that everything is fine. You know that he doesn't believe you, but he knows better than pushing, trusting his agent to ask for help when it's needed, but he forgot how stubborn you can be. He is divided between worries to see you so exhausted and the urge for the mission to be completed as quickly as possible.

Even if he is trying to keep those deaths a secret for as long as possible, pretending on the news that they aren't related, just misfortune, he knows he won't be able to lie indefinitely. People are going to question what's happening and it's obvious that he can’t admit that there is a crazy assassin roaming freely around the country. 

For the moment, only a few agents are aware about the file, only the best ones. If anyone can do it, it's you, that's what he keeps telling himself to ease the guilt he is feeling whenever he sees you so exhausted. 

And, even if he is not saying anything, telling you to take your time, you can read in his eyes the fears and worries, you can feel the pressure and the lack of time: this mission had to be a priority. It comes before your basic needs, eating and sleeping becoming optional. You hadn't seen anyone else other than the pictures of the victims' bodies for the last weeks, talked so little that you are almost sure you lost your voice.

You were in distress and it's obvious that your state of mind has led to mistakes you could've easily avoided, even a rookie wouldn't have made them. 

Before you could realize, it was the morning, and the sun didn't come alone: it left a surprise on your desk, an umpteenth death. You didn't wait long, immediately going to the place where it happened, in hope you would find something if you are the first one here. But, as always, everything is clean, the appartment being perfectly tidy, except for the cold body in the middle of the living-room.

They are playing with your mind, probably amused to see you trying to stop them, knowing that you can't because it's impossible to catch a shadow. People are dying and there is nothing you can do about it.

Those thoughts are unbearable, and you are fighting the urge to break an object when you notice something. It is almost invisible, so small that you almost missed it. It is just a piece of paper, stucked between two tiles on the balcony. 

Here it is, your hint, the first one since you started. If you are exhausted, it seems that the person you are chasing starts to feel confident enough to let their guard down and make mistakes. There is not much in the paper, just bits of words but it is enough for you to guess everything you need: their next victim.

You know that there is only a small chance that you could actually stop them tonight, but you can't help the feeling of hope that is growing inside of you because, for the first time, you've the feeling that you are getting somewhere.

You should've told Fury. You should've let him know what you found, your leads, where you are going tonight, but you didn't. Even if you know how dangerous going in there alone and unprepared, you did it, the feeling of hope giving you the impression that nothing could go wrong - you would deal later with Fury's anger. 

If you get out of here alive. 

But it may be your only chance to get them, because who knows when they're gonna make another mistake? It could be weeks or months, maybe never, and you don't have the strenght to wait for so long. You don't even really care about the target, he is just some rich man who embodies everything you hate, it's just that this mission is now personnal: you're done playing their game and want to let them know.

You are driving fast, not caring about the speed limits. Gladly, it is late and the hotel is on the edge of the city, isolated to provide traquility to the people that decide to stay here - all rich and influential. You weren't surprised when you discovered that the next victim was staying here for a few days. 

But, if the road is empty, your mind isn't. Your heart is racing, trying to get out of your chest. In months of research, you've never been so close to success, it has something exciting. However, hope doesn't come alone. This feeling is accompanied by nervousness and nausea as you can't help but think of all the ways this could go wrong, the so-good idea is just sounding like a really bad mistake now.

You're on your own, no one knows you are here tonight.

Your fingers are tapping against the steering wheel in an attempt to shut out these thoughts, but it doesn't change anything. You know that, if you want everything to go fine, you need to keep your mind clear - no one ever successed a mission while being distracted, it would only get you killed. However, it is easier to say than to do.

You found yourself waiting at the front of the hotel, trying to hide how shaky your hands were. Even if you are wearing the most expensive dress of your dressing, you are still feeling out of place, everything here being just ... too much, honestly.

One glance at the entrance confirmed what you thought: going in won't be easy. It's obvious that you can't walk in here, pretending to be some guest, without being suspicious. In this kind of mission, discretion is the key and you need to become a part of the landscape.

"Can I steal a bit of your time?" a man asked after you waited for a few minutes. 

A pretty woman doesn't go unotice in that kind of space, especially if she looks a bit lost. This man, however, has nothing pretty, he is probably older than your parents. You are not dumb, knowing that there is nothing innocent behind his request, and this simple thought is enough to digust you. Yet, you don’t say anything. You are just hiding your feelings behind a smile, nodding slowly to him.

He is your way inside.

Once you are inside, you don't wait for one more minute before excusing yourself, pretending you have to go to the bathroom. He made some jokes about women that you don't bother to listen to, already far away, knowing that you won't keep your promise to come back as quickly as possible.

The feeling his hand left on your waist makes you shiver, but you don't have much time to think about it, trying to discretly shaking it off as you are heading to the stairs. At least, the first part of your plan - which wasn't really one - was done: you are inside of the building.

From the hotel's roof, you have a perfect look at the city. Sadly, you don't have much time to enjoy the view of the city lights or to observe the movements of the citizens, unawere of what's happening so close to them. The cold wind of autumn is brushing your face, a few of your hair strubbornly getting out of your braids to get in your eyes, and the fresh air is easing your nervousness a bit. 

But it all came back in a second, all it took was a glance at your watch: almost ten pm, you only have a few minutes to decide what to do. 

Before going down, you made sure that the living-room was empty, using a small drone. You scoffed when you saw the suit he reserved, it was bigger than your appartment and every object there seems to be outrageously expensive. However, even if you can't see anyone, you are not letting your guard down. The lights are on, which means he is somewhere in the appartment and it doesn't let you a lot of time to sneak in if you don't want to be seen.

You went in by the window. Your hands were shaking as you tried to open it, and you couldn't help but glance inside from time to time, fearing the assassin would show. The stress you were feeling made you less efficient and you had to try three times before you eventually hear the relieving sound of the window unlocking - usually, you wouldn't need more than one attempt to get there.

You were trying to make as little noise as possible while closing the window behind you, to make it seem like you've never been here, when you are surprised by a presence on your back. You barely dodged the lamp he threw at you, the object hitting the floor, breaking in a loud noise - for the discretion, you may want to try harder next time. 

As his scream is piercing throught your ears, you jump at him, one of your hands keeping his mouth shut while you are holding him against the wall, hoping no one hears him - because, if it's the case, the assassin won't be your only problem. This was your second mistake, one you could've easily avoided if you came with a better plan than "going in and taking the target down". Even if you are here to save him, the fact that he knows may jeopardize the whole mission, the assassin will probably notice that something isn't right. 

"No, no, no! Don't yell," you hushed him, "I am here to save you, the assassin is coming for you, tonight," you told him in an attempt to ease his panic; but how could you sucess to calm him down when you are even more stressed than he is? His panic is slowly becoming yours as you realise how badly you’ve screwed up.

"To.. save me?" he asked and, at the way he told those words, you can tell that he is schocked by the news. 

"Yes, they-," you started to reply, sliping your hand in your pocket to get out your badge. It seems to calm him down and you can eventually take a few steps back, releasing the man, but your movements are slow, ready to throw yourself at him again if he decides to scream. 

You were already looking around, in search of any hint the assassiin would already be here when you heard a cold chuckle that made you shiver. You immediately turn to the man, only to notice that he is the one laughing. 

"Oh, but I am not the one that needs to be saved," he said, smiling, and you immediately froze, unable to move an inch as your mind is trying to process what he just said. 

"What?" you replied, but deep down you already knew what was happening, the feeling that something isn't right only growing stronger.

"Oh, sorry...", another voice said on your back. Its tone is false pity, its chuckle was full of arrogance, "have I ruined your little moment of heroism?" she asked, and you don't need to hear more than those few sentences to recognize the person to whom that voice belongs. 

Slowly, as if you are scared that moving too fast could make her disappear, you turn around to give a look at the woman. Her face is hidden behind a black mask, but you would recognize those eyes everywhere, even if they are now tinged with a darkness you've never seen in her before. Her green eyes no longer had the soft look you were used to. 

"'Tasha? Is that.. you?" you whispered, but you already knew the answer - a few strands of red hair slipping out of her mask, an another hint of her identity. 

This encouter is leaving a weird feeling, twisting your stomach with fear while confusion coulds your throughts; nothing that is happening now makes sense. Why is she here? What does she mean by that? Why is she so different from the person you know? You are feeling like you are facing a ghost, how weird it's stand in front of a person that looks and sounds like your old friend but that is nothing like them at the same time.

"I thought I taught you better than that..," she added, but her tone is bothering you: it's harsh, cold, she has never talked to you that way in the past. 

It's when she eventually takes her mask off that you can see that she has been smirking the whole time, enjoying the situation you are in. However, you are not smiling at all, because you slowly realise that is was just a trap, *and you fell right into it, giving yourself to the person you've chased for months.*

“Look at you,” she spat out, “so .. naive, and stupid, you didn’t change, uh? You didn’t learn your lesson?” she asked, and you couldn't find the words to reply, the shock had stolen your voice, you didn’t even notice that the man left the room, leaving only the two of you and a thick ambience.

You’ve known the woman for many years. When you joined the Avengers, the two of you quickly became close as being the only two women in a team of cocky men. Sure, it wasn’t always easy because of how different you are, but you learned a lot by her side and you appreciated her a lot, always seeking the company of the spy.

A few years ago, when everyone decided it was time to split up, you didn’t stay in touch with any of them. You were never a family, despite what they would tell you, just colleagues and, if it was hard to admit at first, you eventually got used to this idea. However, you can’t help but think about the redhead from time to time, regretting not having a way to contact her, wishing you would've at least stayed close with her among all your former teammates. 

You thought it was mutual, but you are not sure anymore. 

No matter how hard she tried to be nice to you, a part of her always hated the person you were. She hated your smile and how pure it was, she hated how childish you could be, always excited over the smallest things. You were a constant reminder of what her life could've been if she had a normal childhood. She was jealous. It felt unfair to see that life gave you everything she always dreamed of. 

But the spy never talked about it. She listened closely everytime you would talk about your childhood, helping you to organize surprises for your family, not mentionning the way her stomach would twist and her heart hurt in those moments. She got used to the feeling of her nails digging into her skin whenever she was having a conversation with you - because you would most likely be talking about your memories at some point. 

She even used to avoid your room, not wanting to see the pictures and childhood memories displayed everywhere. Those objects were a reminder that your family is real when hers was nothing more than a pretending, a mission. While she was trying to survive, you never got to worry about anything else than what was your favourite colour. 

And, even if she knows you had your own struggles, she couldn’t help but have the toxic urge to compare both of your lives and what you have been through.

You got the life she was dreaming of with the other girls, but you didn't even seem to realise it.

If she was able to keep up the act, it was only because it was easy to go on missions by your side. You were skilled but, most importantly, great at following orders: you would always do everything she asked you to. You were eager to please the woman. So she talked to you, smiled, acted nice, pretended it was nothing when you would apologize for ranting about your life, knowing that, one day, she would find a way to get her revenge.

Suddenly, you are the one being pinned against the wall and she leaves you no chance to escape. You barely noticed her moving, barely had time to think about dodging her attack that you were already in her hands.  

She appears to be even better than when you were working together, and you suspect that it's not because she trained since, but surely because she never used her whole skills in a fight against you - she knew she didn't need that to win. Your hopes of beating the redhead vanish immediately, you only ever won because she let you to.

How could you?

She was raised to kill, when you would just achieve a childhood dream.

Oh, you are good at it, just not good enough. You realize your mistake when, for the first time since you met the spy, you feel her fist landing on your face with its whole strenght, not once, but an endless amont of time. There is blood, yours, running down your nose and mouth, and it comes with a sharp pain as her last hit sends you to the ground. 

“You’ve no idea for how long I’ve waited for that moment..," she told you while coming closer. She is observing your miserable form with a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Tasha’, I understand that-,” you tried to say, but you were stopped by another kick on your face that took your breath away. She doesn't even let you the possibility to say a few words, the sound of your voice being enough to drive her crazy. 

The pity in it is making her sick.

“You can understand?” she scoffed in disbelief. She can't believe that you've the audacity to say something like that. “No. You think you can understand what I am going through, but you can’t, and you want to know why?" she asked, pausing before giving you the answer herself, "because you are the golden child that has everything in the palm of her hand," she said those words in a voice full of hate. 

“What happened..?" you whispered, "that- that’s not.. you... not the Natasha I know," you said, trying to make sense of the situation, but you can't, you want to believe that it is just a terrible mistake, that she is still here, somewhere, that she just got lost - but it could've happened to any of you, right?

“Oh, but you never knew me, love," she replied, coldly laughing at you, "This is me. This is the person I was born to be. For years, I tried to run away, but we can’t escape our destiny," she continued. She takes a few more steps toward you, kneeling at your side, her hand caressing your cheek, "and honestly, I've never felt so good, so free."

“If it’s him again, I- I can help you, we can find a-," you said, refusing to think about the fact that, maybe, she is right, that everything is just her choice, because it would make you the enemy of a person that used to be your friend and teammate. 

Again, you are stopped by a kick on your chest while she is smiling, as if you just said the stupidest thing she's ever heard of her life.

“Him?” she chuckled, “Oh, honey, no.. he is long gone. It is just me now. I eventually got to be who I really am without anyone to prevent me from doing so, isn’t it .. thrilling?” she asked, but you are not sharing her excitement, you are just frightened and she can tell it by the way you are looking at her, your eyes being wide open. 

She was born for that life, she was raised with the only purpose to kill, to spy, but since the Avengers no longer exist, what was she? Her skills were no longer useful. At first, she tried to get a normal job, but it didn't end very well, she just couldn't fit in. She hated the feeling of having everything to learn again.

And it was all your fault.

You were the voice in her head that made her believe it was possible, that she could, one day, have a normal life, without blood and fights. You are the one that gave her hope. When she was at your side, she always felt like you were right, but reality was quick to kick in and, whenever the two of you were talking, there was always a small detail that would remind her that you are living in two opposite worlds. The demons that haunted her spared you and she will never be able to make it up for the blood on her hands.

But then you abandoned her, like the others, and she realized she couldn't do it without you to show her the beauty of the world. It just seems impossible, she was too brutal for the earth. 

And she started hating you for your lies. 

You never knew, but she was watching you the whole time. She knows every detail of your life, how you succeeded to rebuild it after the Avengers when she failed. It seems so simple, so why couldn't she do the same? You seem to have forgotten your former colleagues so easily, you got a new job and friends, a complete new life in only a few months, as if she never existed. Meanwhile, the memories of her time with the Avengers were stuck in her head. 

She felt like she lost her only chance to have a normal life. 

It's not surprising, then, that she fell again in that loop of blood and death. It was familiar, almost comforting, something she is good at. Whenever she completes a mission, it reminds her that she has a place in that world, even if it's not the one she has dreamed of.

She loved to see you struggling. She enjoyed watching you those past months, she wanted to see how desesperate you could get before breaking down. She knew it wasn't healthy, but she couldn't help but love the feeling of power, and it is even more true right now, as she has you pinned against the wall, one of her hands pressed against your throat.

“I know that you think you’re better than me, but we are the same, we are both killers," she said, her face being so close to yours that you could feel her breath. "The difference is that you are controlled by your superiors. They wouldn’t care if I was doing the same, they don’t care about those deaths, they are just afraid they can't control me. And you know what?" she asked with a frightening expression, "they're right to feel that way. Now that I am free, no one will ever tell me what to do, not even you,” she whisepered those last words in your ears, it sounded like a warning. 

In reality, she is only almost free, because she has one last thing to do for it to be true. Even if she is now at the head of her own organization, no longer taking orders from anyone else, she doesn't feel completely free yet. This time, it is not because of Dreykov, Fury or Tony, but you. 

The redhead firmly believes that, if she manages to control you, she will be able to get the freedom she always wanted. 

Slowly, her gentle touch becomes agressive, her fingers are no longer caressing your cheek, they are wrapped around your throat, the pressure slowly increasing until you are struggling to breath. You can read everything she never told you in her eyes: suffering and despair, hatred and anger. 

You are the last thing with power over her. She can't get you out of her mind, being obsessed with you in a way that isn't healthy. She can't stop thinking about the sweet words you used to whisper to her when she was at her lowest, the ones that gave her a glimpse of who she could've been, but also the ones that prevent her from embracing who she really is.

If she wants to be free, she needs to grief the person she would've been if her childhood would've been like yours, and it won't be possible as long as you're here. Your words were the cause of the guilt that was building in her sometimes, when it was late, they were keeping her from sleeping, they are the reason for all her weaknesses.

"P- please," you whispered, managing to say a few words, begging for your life as she coldly held her knife above your head - you don't doubt one second she would kill you without any hesitation.

But the hit never came.

She just stayed like that for what felt like hours, tilting her head while a smile spread on her face, almost mocking. The smile has nothing in common with what you're used to, this one sends shivers through your body.

"Hm, you're right," she eventually said, as if you said something that would've been enough for her to change her mind when you didn't - she seems to be talking to herself. "Where would be the fun if I kill you know? It was just starting to get interesting, don't you think?" she added and your relief is short, there is something mischevious on her tone and attitude that makes you wish she just've killed you instead. 

Those past months made her realize that she doesn't need to kill you, she doesn't even really want to. No, what she really enjoyed was more the idea of having control over your life, to know that you were so desesperate that she was the only thing in her mind - and you didn't even know yet it was her behind that. 

Now that you know, it'll only make it worse.

If she wouldn't hesitate to stab you, she knows that you would. After so many years of working with you, she had time to get to know you, and she was right thinking you didn't change, still being so predictable. She barely had to do anything to have you between her hands, you fell almost on her trap so easily that it was almost disappointing.

You are doing everything she guesses you will.

And she knows you won't kill her, *how could you?* You strongly believe in redemption and that, even if Natasha got lost, you can take her back, no matter how long it'll take. Everyone deserves a second chance. 

The redhead thought it would be entertaining to see you try to "save her" and miserably fail before she ends your life. This is the revenge she was looking for. 

"I'll leave you a little something to remember who you are dealing with," she murmurs as she lowers the knife, directing it toward your hips where she stabs you. She knows exactly what she is doing, to within a few millimeters, she would've killed you but she didn't. "See you soon," she added, and they're the last words she pronounces as she leaves the room. 

It is a reminder of the power she has. She leaves you on the ground, alone and bleeding like an animal while she has no injuries. And, if this encounter ended up that way, it is only because she decided to, not because she had pity, nor because you decided to. She could've killed you in a second if she wanted to, and god, she loves that feeling.

Tags - @imnotslouching

Masterlist here.

[alpaca-clouds]

Colonialism never ended

Okay, let me talk about one thing that a lot of white folks don't quite seem to realize. And that is the fact that colonialism never really ended.

Like, the official telling of it was: "Oh, yeah, after world war 2 the colonizing nations realized it was wrong." Or, if it is more honest, then: "Yeah, after world war 2 the colonizing empires were out of money to uphold her colonies." But even that still very much is a total lie. We still live under colonialism - both settler colonialism and extractionist colonialism.

Probably the easiest way to realize, we still have settler colonialism in place, is to look at the amount of land that never was in any way or form given back to the indigenous folks who once called it their home. No, they do not get to live there again. And also, no, they will not see a penny of the money that might be extracted from their former homes through development, agriculture or for example oil extraction.

In the US the state that shows it maybe the strongest is Hawai'i, in which indigenous folks are more and more pushed away from where they were living and praying, as parts of the island get used for tourism, rich people homes, military stuff or maybe a nice observatory on one of their sacret sights. More and more indigenous Hawai'ians are forced to move away from Hawai'i. Because through the rich folks and their development, they cannot afford to live on their own islands any longer.

We also see it through extractions. I already spoke about the land in the USA, but the same is happening in so many other places. A lot of land (especially mines) all over Africa are still owned by white people directly or indirectly. So they will still, to this day, extract the wealth from it.

Or, heck, we have all those exotic fruit plantages all over the tropical regions. Like how the US literally overthrew a government to keep the banana productions going and keeping it in white people hands.

Or there is of course the fact that the fucking lines onf the maps we have now have been drawn by white people, artificially grouping people together, who might not even be from the same culture. Something that often instabilized nations - an outcome that was very clearly intended, to make it easier to control and extract value from the nations in question.

Just look at the entire thing with the Sykes-Picot-agreement, that is responsible for so many of the wars happening in the Arabian world right now. Or at the division of India, that was and still is cause for so much violence.

And of course, while Slavery is officially outlawed, the US kinda contructed its justice system all around keeping it further going. By criminalizing Black people for all sorts of stuff and then making unpaid prison labor legal.

Colonialism is still going strong. And really, whenever western nations go crying about China's neocolonialism, what they are really crying about is, that it loosens their own colonialist control over them. Not that there is colonialism happening at all.

And we cannot have a just world, until we fully decolonize and until reparations are paid for the evils that have happened for now five hundred years.

This is also, why we cannot have anything in terms of solarpunk futures, until we decolonize. Because solarpunk aims for a just world. A just world that cannot exist unter colonialism.

[samgirl98]

Zombie Son 2/2

Prev

Batman stared at the pictures of Joker’s dead body. Something wasn’t adding up.

The official reports said that Joker had been killed by a guard at Arkham when there had been a breakout. However, Batman had never seen that guard before, and he disappeared right after killing Joker.

The shot had been a single bullet to the head. Almost like an assassin had done it instead of a random security guard who would’ve been scared mindless. Something told Batman this had been done professionally; it was too clean, too quick.

“Still looking at the pictures of Joker’s body?” Dick walked in wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, “maybe you should let it go and count your blessings.”

“Hn,” he grunted. Batman, no Bruce, couldn’t let it go. This is the man that killed his child. Joker was dead now, and he had to know who and why. Batman pulled up the death report again, and he heard Dick sigh.

“Seriously, can you at least go to sleep? The case will be there when you wake up tomorrow.”

He ignored Dick; Bruce didn’t want to admit to his eldest that sleeping had become an ordeal after Joker’s death. He only saw Jason’s limp body; he heard his son’s cry asking for him, only to get there too late. No, working on the Joker’s murder was more productive than sleeping.

“Bruce, you’ve been up for almost thirty hours; go to sleep.”

Bruce looked up when he heard the ping. He had run the guard’s face through a facial recognition program, and it had finally found a match.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dick said.

It was time for Batman to talk to Waller.

____

Amanda Waller was drinking a cup of wine when Batman entered her office.

“What do you want, rich boy?”

“You put a hit out on the Joker. Why?”

Waller sipped her wine and answered, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Batman threw two pictures on her desk.

“Mark Burkhardt, he works for you, and he was the one who shot the Joker. So, once again, why did you put a hit on the Joker?”

“Listen, Batboy, what the US government does is none of your concern.”

“Anything that happens in my city is my concern.”

“I would’ve thought you’d be happy he’s dead, considering what he did to Robin number two.”

Batman clenched his fists. Waller knew she was playing with fire but couldn’t help herself. Riling Batman up was just so much fun.

Batman suddenly slammed his hands on her desk, “Why did you kill the Joker?”

She sighed; Amanda had told Alicia Batman wouldn’t let this go but, oh well, she did her part. What happened next would be none of her concern.

“It was a favor to an old colleague of mine. It was done off the books; officially, the US government had nothing to do with this though they did turn a blind eye to it when they found out it was that terrorist.”

“Who put the hit out?”

“Alicia Walker,” she did tell Amanda to send Batman her way if he ever showed up.

“Why did she put a hit out on him?”

“I don’t know; you’d have to ask her. Now get out of my office.”

Amanda took another sip of her wine, and when she looked up, Batman was gone.

“Hmph, good riddance.” Amanda picked up the phone and dialed Alicia, “The Bat was here. Be prepared to see him soon.”

She hung up before the other woman could respond.

____

Alicia Walker, retired A.R.G.U.S agent, brought up her shotgun and pointed it at the shadowed man in her little cabin.

“I’ve been expecting you; what do you want?”

A lesser person would be coward by the looming shadow of the Batman, and indeed, he was a terrifying figure, what with all the black kevlar and white-out lenses. Alicia wasn’t a lesser person.

“You put a hit out the Joker. Why?”

“Why not,” she retorted, “he was the scum of the earth. Considering what he did to your bird, I don’t know why you care.”

Batman tensed.

“What makes you say that,” he growled.

Alicia rolled her eyes.

“I was part of the US government; we know everything, Wayne.”

Alicia turned her back to the man to get her moonshine. When she turned back around, Batman was gone.

“Hmph,” she took out her phone, “he’s been here. Be prepared to have him appear at your doorsteps. And say hi to my niblings for me.”

____

“Do you think it’s really him?” Dick asked in a whisper.

“Hn,” was Bruce’s brilliant response.

In front of him was a picture of the Fenton family. There was the mother, the father, the daughter, and two sons.

It was the youngest that had caught their attention. It was Jason. A little older but him. Bruce would recognize his son anywhere.

He had pulled up the adoption papers the Fentons had signed. They had found ‘Jay Fenton’ comatose in the streets of Gotham. The only thing the boy would say was ‘Bruce.’

The boy was allowed to be adopted by the Fentons after they pulled some strings.

“It’s him. I know it is.”

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“Now, I’m going to Amity Park.”

____

Jason knew that Bruce, that Batman, would show up sooner rather than later. That doesn’t mean he was prepared to find Bruce standing in his parents’ living room, demanding to let them see Jason.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked with vitriol.

This was the man that had not avenged him, that had let his murderer walk free. If it hadn’t been for the Fentons, that sorry excuse of a man would still be wasting oxygen.

“Jay lad,” Bruce whispered. He took a step toward Jason; Jay took a step back.

“What do you want?”

Bruce gulped, “I want my son back.”

Jay snorted.

“I’m not your son; I stopped being your son when you let that clown walk the streets. I am the Fenton’s son.”

“Jay lad, please.”

“No! You let my murderer live! How, why?”

“I don’t kill, Jay lad. I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? You have such an antiquated moral code that you let murderers roam the street and take more innocent lives!”

“Jason, please, I’m sorry I let you die—”

“You think this is because you let me die? Bruce, I forgive you for that, but why in good God was the Joker still breathing? I come back and—and my killer is still around. Nothing changed. No, wait, you put a different kid in the Robin suit. You replaced me rather quickly.”

“He isn’t a replacement, Jason! No one could ever replace you; you’re my son!”

“No, I’m not.”

Jason walked up to his mom.

“I’m their son, and I suggest you leave, Bruce.”

Bruce stared at Jason before nodding reluctantly.

“Very well, but please take this. If you ever need anything, call me.”

Bruce turned to walk away and then turned to look at Jason one more time.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Jason. I missed you.”

“Get out,” Jason said.

When Bruce closed the door behind him, Jason turned and hugged Jack and Maddie, crying.

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’re here.”

“Yeah, Jay,” his dad bellowed, “we’ll always be here.”

Jason let himself be comforted by his parents. He looked down at the card Bruce had left him, crumpled it up, and then put it in his pocket.

@fisticuffsatapplebees @suppengott @mur-ururu @daemonlogical @aikoiya @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @rubber-ducky-your-the-one @overtherose @thegatorsgoose @kisatamao @emergentpanda-blog @skulld3mort-1fan @why-must-i-be-like-this @nappinginhell @onlyhereforthechaos @mlpizza @currant-owo @hoarder-of-gender @malice-of-the-sunrise @regressor-marina @joseph557 @stargirl1331 @yjfk @fandomnerd103

[wolven91]

A Coiled Mind

"Desh? Can I speak to you for a moment?" asked the human on the ssypno’s door step.

"Ah Daniel, of course you can; please come in!"

The human known as Daniel was a diligent worker, but even Desh had noticed a marked change in their demeanour recently, one that had worried her. Very new to the galactic scene, the humans were industrious and quick to pick up new tasks once shown, but thanks to the chaos of a few months ago, Desh considered them fragile. 

As his direct controller, she wanted to make sure she was available for him, but hadn't pressured him to speak in case he hadn't wanted to. She wasn’t a psychologist, she had no formal training and had to rely on the official government therapy sessions given to the humans that they would be enough or catch any pent up emotions. 

He stepped into her home and stood there awkwardly for a moment, scratching at his arm. It took a moment to twig that something was seriously wrong as she made her way to get him a drink from the kitchen area. 

She stopped her short journey across the room and looked back at him, frowning and returning to the man. The large serpent lowered herself down to his level. Her length was immense and trailed lazily round the room, but she pulled herself into a tight knit of a roiling mass of scales to give the smaller human more space in her home. He had worked with her a while now, so she assumed he was fine with her, but was aware that she could still be intimidating at the best of times.

"Daniel? Is everything... okay?" She reached out a hand, but hesitated. She so desperately wanted to touch him, but was unsure if she was allowed to at this moment. Humans were one of the races to be warm blooded, but were the only one without a dense layer of fur. Thanks to this lack of insulation, they were walking, talking heat lamps to her kind. It would be so easy to hold on to them and never let go, but she mustn't, she had to give them space lest she scare him off, they were significantly smaller after all at only six foot tall compared to her forty five feet on length.

"I... I just.. it-" he cut himself off as a sob broke forth. She made the call to surge forward and pull him into a tight hug against herself. Two of her arms, the lower set grasping his back while her upper set; one hand found the back of his neck and her fourth and final hand slid through his short brown fur that topped his head. Her muscular lower body, a single thick tube of scales and muscles wound around his legs and raised him up into the air so she could hold him without stooping low.

"Hey! Heeeey, come on now... it's okay... it's okay now.. " She said, continuing to whisper sweet nothings into his ear as she propelled herself backwards into her home. To an outsider, it would appear as if she were a predator with a successful hunt within her clutches. 

She weaved and wrapped him thoroughly against herself as he quaked and sobbed against her.

Eventually he did begin to settle and started to apologise for his 'outburst'. Desh was shocked and sickened to think that he thought the need to apologise for something as natural as his reactions.

His home world was lost, he was part of an endangered species, he had every right to be upset and yet he had soldiered on for two months since the catastrophic events of the Sol System.

"Human Daniel, do not ever apologise to me for seeking me out to unwind. If you need to cry, you cry to me. If you don't want anyone else to know, then no one will know my friend... okay?"

He nodded his head, trying to wipe his eyes with hands already wet with his tears.

"If your kind are half as strong as you, then you will all be alright friend-Daniel, but I think today will be spent here, if that is alright?" He nodded again and whispered; 

"I'd like that Desh... thank you..."

Her tail began to wind and spool around his shorter legs bringing them together before it wound up further curling around his hips and stomach. She gave him the option to have his arms down or up, to which he placed his arms against himself. Her tail finished by sinching around the tiny neck that all humans had.

Feeling bold, she grasped his head in either of her hands, the deep blue scales standing in stark contrast to his skin.

"Look into my eyes dear.. look how they swirl with colours, do you see?"

His tense body within her coils started to ease. In the primitive times, this would be where she would tighten and squeeze her prey before devouring it whole.

But for now, she would luxuriate in the waves of heat he gave off. She would let him rest and sooth, while she was paid in the most intimate spar treatment she had ever felt.

No wonder she was banned from touching Humans normally, nothing would ever get done if it felt like this...

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (42)

Pres.Ravinstill: My dearest Mentors, in spite of the recent tragic events-

Felix: You mean the Arena Explosion Incident that almost got us killed if not for Palmyra Monty being absent that day?

Pres.Ravinstill: Yes. That one.

Festus: But why are we calling it tragic? Nobody died.

Pres.Ravinstill: Correct! Nobody died except for our government’s budget for reconstruction that is. Now I have to borrow another large sum of money from Monster Cardew- I mean, from Mama Cardew again.😞

Livia: That sounds like good news to me.😌💅

Coryo: Of course it does.🙄

Pres.Ravinstill: However, that is not the reason for why I’m here today-

Androcles: Mr. President, Mr. President, are you here for your missing Bichon Frisé puppy-

Everyone: Andie!

Androcles: Nevermind. I’ll shut up now.

Pres.Ravinstill: As I was saying, I’m here to make an announcement. An important one that will either make or break the future of our country. So Felix, come up here and give your Gran Gran a hug-

Felix: Am I in trouble? If so, just know it wasn’t me. It was Festus-

Festus: Hey! I ain’t no criminal-

Felix: Or Hilarius-

Hilarius: Fair enough.

Felix: And Sejanus.

Sejanus: Coryo! Coryo, my love, they’re bullying me again!😭

Coryo: Babe, please stop crying in front of the President. It’s embarrassing.

Sejanus: Ok. I’ll stop crying if you first give me a kiss.😘

Coryo: On the cheek?

Sejanus: No.

Coryo: On the forehead?

Sejanus: Lower.

Coryo: On the nose?!

Sejanus: Lower.

Coryo: On your chin?!

Sejanus: You know where, Babe.😏

Coryo: I-

Sejanus: Pretty please?🥺

Coryo: Um-

Lysistrata: Kiss him! Kiss him, Coryo! Coryo, please! For the SnowPlinth Fan Club!

Diana: You do know that the President is still here, right?

Felix: Don’t worry about it. My granduncle is part of the SnowPlinth Fan Club. Just look at him.

Pres.Ravinstill: Kiss him! Kiss him, Snow!! Crassus x Strabo forever!

Apollo: Crassus x Strabo?! That’s the wrong SnowPlinth Fan Club!

Felix: Tomato, Potato.

Florus: I beg to differ. That’s-

Coryo: *faints from embarrassment*

Pup: Well, I’ll be off to call the medics again.

Sejanus: *princess carries Coryo* Oh, don’t mind me. Coryo and I will be going home together.🥰

Pres.Ravinstill: Fine. I’ll go straight to the point. Felix, my beloved grandnephew, I am officially promoting you to be my new son and heir.😊

Felix: Wait, what?! Why me?! What happened to my other uncles, aunts, and older cousins?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Fortunately, they were all disowned yesterday.

Felix: Disowned?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Fortunately.

Felix: What about my parents?!

Pres. Ravinstill: Them too. So starting today, you are now my one and only son.🥹

Io: Oh, that’s so sweet!

Juno: ✨Slay✨, Class Pres!

Clemensia: Congratulations, Class Pres!

Iphigenia: Nice one, Class Pres!

Domitia: Let’s party!

Dennis: Food’s on Livia!

Livia: Suck a di-

Felix: Granduncle, are you crazy?! Why would you disown everyone but me?!

Pres.Ravinstill: It’s father now. And Panem, it was quite a funny story-

Felix: Please just tell me the short version.😞

Pres.Ravinstill: Fine. Your parents, uncles, aunts, and cousins had a big fight yesterday-

Felix: That’s just normal-

Pres.Ravinstill: Which escalated so fast that one of them intentionally destroyed one of my rare #SnowPlinth merch and my #Crasca4Ever hate shrine!

Vipsania: The audacity!

Pres.Ravinstill: Sis, you don’t even know the worst thing they did!

Vipsania: What did they do?

Pres.Ravinstill: Those damn ungrateful kids of mine vandalized one of my exclusive Bichon Frisé puppy posters out of spite!😡🔪

Everyone:. . .

Pres.Ravinstill: So I disowned all of them. Lol.

Felix: What the heck?!

Lysistrata: Not the SnowPlinth merch!😭

Pres.Ravinstill: I know! They were all so cruel to commit a crime such as that!

Sejanus: Mr. President, Mr. President, we must swiftly punish-

Pres.Ravinstill: Don’t worry, Mr.

Plinth. I already gave them a befitting punishment for their actions.

Felix: Which is?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Peacekeeper duties for 10 years without pay.😊

Felix: *faints from the shock*

Gaius: Fainting must be trending today.

Urban: You don’t say.😒