#not that i wasn't smart before but i will be more efficient

[loverboybrightsideghost]

it's always good to have a break. i don't know how non-music college compares, but music school is A Lot Of Work, constantly practicing, rehearsing, playing. lots of homework. there's also the mental and emotional aspect; being an artist you need to separate your art from your sense of self and self worth, and it's pretty difficult sometimes. not to mention, it is a competitive field, so there's always wondering about how you measure up to others, auditioning, if you'll even get the job or into the festival or whatever.

the past two semesters have been rough for me, even though i had a great summer in between, it was a lot of change (not just bc of first/second year of school) in a short amount of time and a lot of that change was bc i wanted it and it was on my shoulders to work to practice to prove i can do it. and i did! i can! i still have a long way to go, but i can do it. i often think or worry i don't deserve to be here, but it's reassuring to know that 1) lots of other people, even people i look up, feel that way too and 2) i AM here, so enough people who know what they're doing think i can do it, and who am i to argue?

however, to my original point, it is good to have a break. i love music, and i would not be doing this if i didn't. but i think i really burned myself out this semester, and as soon as i was on break, i stopped practicing at all for like a week and a half, and then after that i practiced only a bit at the end of the day just to play my instrument.

what i've been doing instead is sleeping in a lot, watching a lot of tv and reading lots of comics, and also just Reading and listening to music. i've also been drawing a lot.

it's good to take a break. i am a musician, and always will be, but i am also a person who likes to sleep and eat and who is obsessed with superman and likes hanging out with my friends.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

" Dinner Party "

Part 1

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family}

Wc- 4142

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Harry is a bit of an arse, cussing, sexual themes cussing, just a bunch of fluff and yearning}

Taglist- @helendeath @2dloveshp @hatakemrs

“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.” 

Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”

…

The tension in the room was slowly beginning to ease. You couldn't help but feel a bit of hope grab hold of your chest. Your eyes flickered between your mother and your father. James, of course, ever protective, still held a look of drastic offense as Lily spoke up again. “I know you're a smart girl, I raised you myself. I knew your partner would be a sore subject.” 

She reached her hand over and placed it over James’ leg. She smiled at him, a look to try and convey everything running threw her head at once. They are kids. Our angel will be okay.

“Why? Did you.. not trust my judgment?” You asked cautiously, your hands slowly fisting the cloth of your pants. 

Lily quickly shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” She mused and turned to look at James who had closed his eyes and began to even his breaths.

“We used to joke you were perhaps meant to be a Hufflepuff. Darling, you have always seen the best in people, even when others couldn't really see it.” Lily offered and James scoffed. Your mother gave a small grimace before she spoke carefully. “Love is complicated. I can attest to that.” She began, eyeing James as if warning him to challenge her. 

“But love is beautiful. That night, at dinner, was the first time I've ever seen you talk back to us. I was distraught, and I am sorry I reacted the way I did.” She began to fiddle with his pant leg between her fingers. Speaking before you could continue. “It was immature. And if this boy puts so much fire in you, I want to at least meet him.”

Your body stiffened and your eyes widened. Looking between your father and mother as you stammered and tried to stutter out something. “M-meet you guys? We've only been dating a few months now.” You tried to defend.

You loved Mattheo, but he wasn't exactly house trained. He was raised by a house elf and saying the Malfoy’s tried to help raise him would be an exaggeration at the least. He could be polite, charming, he was well mannered when he wanted to be, as he had a smile that could take breaths away. 

But he was also Mattheo Riddle, and the idea of putting him in a room with your father, the other most hotheaded boy you knew, was a terrifying one. Mattheo didn't take kindly to being reminded of his father. It felt cruel to put him in a boxed up room with the very people his parents tried to kill. Not to mention, he got emotional when it came to families. 

You acted like you didn't notice at first, for Merlin's sake you were head over heels for this boy. You would sit in his dorm room, bare to your core and tangled together under the sheets. He would be holding you from behind like you were a vice, telling you about his dreams of a family with love like yours. When you would mention your family, he’d grow tense but stay his stoic self when you would ask. 

It wasn't hard to read him like a book, especially since Mattheo basically read it for you. He had changed a lot in the last few months you'd been with him. You used to fight horribly the first month. He was still so used to his single status, he hadn't really had positive expectations set on him. You explained to him what you wanted, you were patient, then he started to talk and communicate with you more efficiently, copying your behaviors to mimic your maturity. He loved how happy you looked when he improved himself, the praise sick boy wanting any bit you'd give him. When he told you he quit smoking, he let you drown him in praise and kisses, using withdrawal as an excuse for him being more handsy with you.

You soon learned from his friends that he had quit months ago, when you first told him you hated them, the cheek. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty when it came to light, just seemed so damn proud of himself.

In all honesty, it was hard not to adore him. Even when he was being a little arse. You had fallen hard for the loaded gun, and he obeyed you like you were the trigger. That being said.. he was still Mattheo, meeting your parents seemed like a bigger step than when he would drag you under his sheets with a silencing charm. 

“What? Don't want him to meet us?” James spoke up, and you snapped out of your thoughts. He sounded almost hopeful, like you weren't entirely serious about him. You gave him a pout and Lily squeezed his thigh tighter. 

“Do you think it's too soon, lovely?” Your mother asked patiently and you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted to do was lie to your mother. Lying to James was easy, he was a bit of a push over when it came to you, and you never lied about anything truly groundbreaking. But Lily, she had been your best friend for years. She was your mother, your confidant, and she knew more about you than anyone else. Probably helps that she's known you since you were welcomed home.

“... I am just scared.” You admitted and James’s expression shifted to soften. He sat up a bit and Lily gave him a soft smile.

“Why?” Your mother prodded and you curled your knees to your chest. 

“Just.. he's never had this.” You gestured around you. “He can be a bit.. reactive when it comes to stress?” You tried to offer the information carefully and James frowned hard.

“Reactive as in?” He leaned closer and your eyes flashed open wide. 

“No, Merlin, he would never. Not to me.” You tried to defend and the look on your mothers face made you realize what you said.

“That's not- no, I don't mean it like that.” You quickly tried to back track. Lily sent James a smirk. 

James looked at her with a furrowed brow and a slight pout. “What?”

“Just reminds me of how I tried to defend my choice of partner to my parents. Then, to your parents.” Lily laughed and James bit his cheek but smiled to see his wife so happy. You watched the two and your heart throbbed a bit. You loved your parents so much. You wanted that with Mattheo. Were you moving too fast? It was likely. Could this go horribly wrong? Most definitely. 

“Okay.” You spoke up and your parents turned to you “I'll invite him.”

~~~

Mattheo was at the Lestrange manor alone, as usual, but this summer was far different. He usually would busy himself with his friends, going to pointless balls the Malfoy’s insisted he attend, sneaking off with pureblood girls he didn't even remember the names of. Or better, going drinking with his mates from school.

This summer was killing him. The silence of the manor used to bother him before, every footstep sounded like thunder, every breath he made echoed in his ears, but now? Merlin. You came from a loud family, you didn't know the pain of it. When he was with you, the louder things weren't always bad. You always talked a bit louder than him, played music in his dorm with his unused radio, talked to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. It was easy to like the louder things now. He hated quiet.

The silence just reminded him you weren't there. He didn't even remember when his nights spent alone with witches of different backgrounds became nights of desperate yearning for you. Neither of you had said it yet, but even if you were just talking now, he didn't intend to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone else. He couldn't have anyone else. And the idea of you with someone else? He'd rather die.

Theodore Nott had been lettering him to try and get him out of the hell house, but the idea of you lettering him back when he wasn't home ate him up inside. Pansy called him whipped, when he lettered her to ask if he had done something wrong. ‘It’s only been two weeks, let her settle.’ Out of all of his friends, you clicked with her the easiest. It didn't help that he got a bit jealous when you talked to his male friends. He's never cared this much.

He was sure you've had to have hexed him.

Slipped him Amortentia.

Or soaked your entire body in it. 

Maybe it was mixed into that lovely perfume of yours? 

He groaned out and covered his face, leaning back from his desk into his seat. He let his arms go slack at the sides of his chair and looked at the ceiling. He was pathetic, but he wasn't scared of it this time. He liked feeling weak, if it was for you. He bit his bruised bottom lip and turned to look at the window. What would you think of him now? Sitting about with nothing to do but need you. He needed the heavenly haze you gave him. He liked to worship you, like you were all he was beyond his family. 

Two days after he had sent that letter, he was starting to wonder if you had realized your mistake. That being with your family reminded you that Mattheo Riddle was no one. Someone who should remember he was no one. Not worth the time you spared him day to day, that he was just some phase. He didn't know if he could recover from you. He might just throw the towel in if you didn't want him. Who could recover from a love like a prayer? A love that made him think of you like it was a threat. You were a threat. To his sanity. To his reputation. To his status. 

And he was a threat to you. Obsession, he had to agree with Draco. You are an obsession.

His thoughts were thrown out when he noticed something coming into view through his window. He nearly knocked his chair over as he stumbled over to open it. The Potter’s Owl.

~~~

“You're invited to the Potter’s Residence for our first dinner party of the year,”

Mattheo thumbed over the invitation in hand. He was shocked when he first read it, not only did he never expect to be invited to the Potter’s, he definitely didn’t ever expect you to tell your parents enough about him to be invited. He was excited, thumbing the invitation over and over.

He had groomed himself properly, he was in a button up shirt and a green vest, his hair was almost tamed. He was holding the invitation, raising his knuckle to knock on the door.

You snapped to attention from where you were looking in the mirror. You were wearing a deep forest green dress, the one you knew Mattheo loved, and your dad seemed to take that as a personal offense, dressed in his red dress shirt that matched your mothers dress.

“I still don't like this.” Sirius grumbled from his seat on the couch, and Remus rolled his eyes from where he leaned in the doorway. “A bit late, darling.” He mumbled as he watched you walk down the hall to open the door.

Lily requested Harry and James set up the table, leaving just you and her in the immediate room.

You took a deep breath, looking at your mom before she nodded and you turned back. Opening the door you were a bit startled to see Mattheo so put together, you had to remember that he was raised as pureblood royalty, you just never figured you'd see him so done up. You bit your lip a bit and he chuckled at this, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly stepped aside and he walked in, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his form, not having noticed Lily yet. 

“I missed you, beautiful.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. The second his lips touched yours, you sighed. Like he unwove every bit of your tense frame with just his touch. You couldn't remember a thing, not why you were so worried, where you were, and how your mother was watching you. For ten whole seconds, with just his soft careful kiss, he had made you dumb. He took a sharp breath and sighed after you, stepping closer.

Lily noticed the signs as it got a bit deeper than just a greeting kiss, and she quickly cleared her throat. You quickly pulled away in a fluster, and Mattheo just followed your lips to give you another quick peck, before he pulled back and gave Lily his dazzling look. “Mrs. Potter, right?” He mused and you had to catch a whine in your throat when he stepped back. He held his hand out and Lily moved to shake it, but instead he took her palm and kissed the back of her wrist. “You have a lovely home, ma'am. I can't say I'm surprised, {Y/N} had taken on your style.” He mused and Lily smirked at him.

“So you've been to my daughter’s dorm, hm?” She asked cheekily and his eyes widened and his face dropped. Like a guilty puppy. “I-”

Lily laughed and waved her hand. “Please, don't feel the need to explain. I'm only joking.”

Mattheo blinked a few times and slowly smiled. You and Lily were a lot alike. It looked like he had an ally already. He let go of her hand and stood up straighter. Waving his hand a bundle of Orchids appeared and he offered them to her. “Well, thank you for welcoming me.”

Your heart swelled at the interaction. Maybe tonight wouldn't be horrible. 

“Riddle, hm?” 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Sirius stood in the doorway of the parlor room, staring down at Matheo with a harsh glare. Mattheo met his gaze with his usual dissociative state. “Sirius Black, sir? It's nice to meet you.” He mused and offered him his hand. Sirius looked down at his hand then back to Mattheo. Riddle sighed and moved his hand down to his side, a bit startled when you walked up and took it for yourself. 

He smiled at you like a love sick fool, and Sirius felt his lip twitch at the look.

Remus seemed to see it too, ever the helpless romantic, he bit his cheek. Trying to hide a smile. 

Now, Remus despised the idea of you bringing a Riddle into the family. He hated the idea you would possibly, one day carry the last name of the monster that was Tom Riddle. But those thoughts left his head when he saw how you rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers playing with his, like a practiced art, knowing exactly how to soften the blow of rejection from your uncle.

Suddenly, Mattheo was giving that bright smile again, and you felt a bit cocky to be the one to give it to him. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and you peaked over it but just stared at his profile.

“Nice to meet you, again.” Remus mused, offering his hand and Mattheo’s smile only grew, taking his hand and shaking it firm. “Thank you, Professor.”

He shook his head. “Remus is fine.”

Sirius gawked at him in full offense, having lost himself to the boy's charm. 

Before Sirius could make a snappy comment, Lily spoke up. “Well, I'm sure you're hungry, let's go get you fed, hm?”

“Yes ma'am.” Mattheo responded in kind, before glancing down at you by his shoulder and wetting his lips. Leaning down to steal another kiss, Sirius scoffed as he passed you two to get to the table. Remus followed behind him, as Lily waved the two to their seats. 

“Not much for a dinner party, hm?” He mumbled to you and you gave a small laugh. 

“Not all of us are as extravagant as your family.” You teased and he gave a wolfish smirk. “I think you forget, your father is James Potter, famous for his parties if I remember.” He teased and you rolled your eyes before biting your lip. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Not to mention, even if he seems to hate me, Sirius is my family.”

You narrowed your eyes before your eyebrows jumped upward as you pieced together his family tree. Right. His mother was Sirius’s cousin. It suddenly sunk into you just why Sirius seemed to be taking this so seriously. Mattheo was a mix of the two things he hated most, his family and Voldemort. Must be hard to believe anything good could come from those two things.

You shoved the thought away. He could get over himself. You weren't going to throw away everything you and Mattheo were because Sirius couldn't get over his bias. Your father too.

Once you and Mattheo walked into the dining room, it seemed to be going well. There wasn't much conversation between Mattheo and your family, you found yourself talking to each other. Updates on your lives, him whispering how much he missed you, taking every opportunity to drown you in his affections. You were a flustered mess, but smiling the brightest you've had in days. It was like an addiction, his attention. 

You didn't notice Lily's attention on you two, too wrapped up in Riddle. He was the same, looking at you like you were the last person in the world, like you were worth falling for. He sure hoped so, because he was approaching the ground rapidly as your eyes danced his features. It reminded her of something, turning to look at James and was met with the same look as he tried to start up another Quidditch conversation with her. She simply rolled her eyes fondly. How could he not see what was happening?

“So.” Lily spoke up after her conversation with James flickered out. She spoke in a tone that demanded attention. “How did you two meet? When did this start?” She offered and Mattheo bit his cheek and looked at you, for the hundredth time that night. You smiled and looked back at your mom.

“Well, Professor McGonagall asked me to help a student study during lunch periods. I had no clue who it was but I figured it couldn't hurt.” You mused, conveniently not bringing up the bribe. “Then it kind of.. changed. Eventually it just became casual study dates. Like one, I was teaching him how to summon a patronus and-” You lit up as bright as a star as you began your story, before Harry scoffed. Your face fell a bit and you looked over at Harry with a furrowed brow.

Mattheo had to resist the urge to snap at him for taking away such a view.

He looked up at you with a glare. “I've just never met a Death Eater who could use a patronus is all.”

There was a thick silence that filled the room as your jaw went slack. You tried to figure out a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, mouth growing dry.

Lily tried to speak up but Mattheo beat her to it. “Sorry to disappoint, still haven't it seems.” He cheeked and you looked back at him with a laugh. Your mother gave Harry a look that certainly meant danger for him later. Harry didn't even seem to care, just scoffed.

“He summoned a Fox.” You informed your mother and her mouth fell open a bit, her smile brightening. 

“Is that true?” He prodded Mattheo and he nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

Lily looked at James with raised eyebrows, amused, and he shook his head before clicking his tongue. “So. Heard you were in the Quidditch team, what position?” James finally and reluctantly joined the conversation. 

“Beater, sir.” Mattheo mused and smirked, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye. “Seems someone still miffed over the bludger he took a few weeks ago.”

“Your team cheated.” Harry challenged quickly and Mattheo gave him a wolfish smirk. “Did we? Or is that the only way you'd accept that we got the cup?”

“Watch it, Riddle. I'll make a fool of you next season.” Harry quipped and it actually sounded almost playful. You gave a scoff and Mattheo chuckled. Figures they'd bond over Quidditch of all things.

“Really? A beater?” James spoke up and Mattheo looked over to him with a nod. 

“Sirius was a beater too, we were a fierce team.” James mused and leaned forward. “We created this move…”

Their voices faded out, and you smiled at the scene. It was cordial, almost friendly, as the men at the table talked about the sport with enthusiasm. Well, all safe for Remus who started talking to your mother about a new book recommendation. You just watched how Mattheo seemed to fall into place in your family so easily, and how happy he seemed about it. 

Way too soon, the night was over, and Mattheo was leaving. You and your parents walked him to the door, and he turned to face you.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Potter, the food was amazing. And Mr. Potter, thank you for allowing me to come over.” He mused and your mom shook her head. “Please, anytime sweetheart. Call me Lily.” 

Then, much to your surprise. “Call me James.” Your father mused and took his hand into a firm shake.

Mattheo had this startled look on his face, thrown for a loop before he quickly recovered. “Y-yes sir. I mean James, yes James.”

You giggled and before Mattheo could be given any more surprises, you walked up and hugged his arm. “I'll walk him out of the apparition wards.”

“Don't be gone too long-” James began before Lily covered his mouth and shooed you both off. “Go! We'll be here.” She reassured you.

You pulled Mattheo out the door, leaving Lily to smirk up at James and he groaned. “Okay, the kid isn't that bad.”

“You too!?” Sirius shouted from across the house and Lily laughed. 

~~~

You walked with Mattheo, managed to get just a few yards from the house before his lips were on yours. He had stopped completely, wrapping his arms around your waist and almost toppled you over when he leaned over your frame so easily. You let your hands slide up to his biceps and he gave a low groan, pulling away before he got too far. 

You took a sharp puff of air and steadied your breathing. Your eyes met his deep dark ones. He was looking at you with something so familiar and yet it was hungrier than you'd ever seen before. “Mattheo-”

“Tonight was amazing.” He whispered and took your lips again. This time, you actually managed to prepare yourself. Your hands slipped behind his neck and into his gelled hair. Pouting into the kiss and he smirked. “What?”

“Your hair. I hate it like this.” You mumbled into his lips, not wanting to break the kiss. Mattheo laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it to return his hair to his naturally fluffy glory. 

“That better?” He teased, giving a toothy smirk as he watched you lick your lips clean of him. 

“Much.” This time, you started the kiss, earning a low yelp from him. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall of your fathers property. Hands roaming lower, as you tilted your head back, his new target being your neck.

“You’ve been driving me mad all night, ya know that?” He breathed against your collarbone, fingers fiddling with the end of your dress. “Had to look your father in the eye tonight, and you still wore this? All I could think of was the last time you wore it.” 

You gave a low gasp when his fingers lipped just under the small skirt. “M-Mattheo-”

“I've missed you, beautiful. The last two weeks were torture, you know that? Know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your skin. Your eyes grew hazy the more he spoke. Like he was controlling you with his words. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he looked just past you. 

“Huh. Do you guys have a dog?” He asked and you snapped out of your trance when you heard a loud roar from behind you. “And.. a stag? You have dogs and deer on your property?” He asked and you simply covered your face and gave a loud groan.

“Dad!!”

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme)

The three times you sense something strange when everyone pairs you with Spencer, and the one time you understand why.

Part warning: Definitely inaccuracy in autopsy procedures and Spencer’s educational background, it’s hard writing a genius Words: 5.6k (not proofread, I’ll do it when I have the time so please excuse me if you see any mistakes) A/n: I tried to make this part shorter but I gave up. I hope you don’t mind reading more😌

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

I. The Forced Partner

There was usually a system when Hotch paired the team up, a method to his leadership that balanced skills and personalities to get the job done efficiently. But as Spencer and you were directed to the autopsy room together, you couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch was pushing his luck—or preferably yours.

It was weird. Two weeks had gone by since the last case where he had to witness you both sparring, and you would’ve thought he’d keep you apart. Yet here you were, together again, stepping into the cold, sterile room. 

The faint smell of antiseptic filled the air as you pulled on your gloves, the latex snapping against your wrists. A woman in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, turned to greet you and Spencer. She extended a hand. 

“I’m Dr. Nina Patel, I’ll be overseeing the autopsy today. You must be from the BAU.”

You nodded, shaking her hand firmly. 

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” you introduced, gesturing towards Spencer, who offered a brief nod and a tight lip smile in greeting. Dr. Patel returned the gesture and motioned for you both to approach the table. 

“Our Jane Doe was found early this morning in an alleyway downtown," she explained, pulling back the sheet to reveal a woman appearing in her late thirties. "There are no apparent injuries, and no ID was found with her.”

Spencer stepped closer. "Any indication of the time of death?" 

"Preliminary estimates put the time of death at approximately eight hours before she was found."

You watched as she started pointing to various parts of the body. 

"She was also found with her clothes in perfect condition. It’s possible she was placed there post-mortem."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Could suggest transportation from another location.”

You moved to the head of the table, examining Jane Doe's hands and nails. "No defensive wounds," you added. "She didn't fight back, or more likely, wasn't conscious during her final moments."

Dr. Patel nodded as she considered your observations. “It’s plausible that a strong sedative was used, which would leave minimal to no struggle marks. We’re running some tests as we speak.”

Spencer chimed in quickly after that. “The Unsub might have used succinylcholine, or even benzodiazepines,” he suggested. Then, turning toward you with a condescending tone as if simplifying it for your benefit, he added, “They’d metabolize quickly and would require a toxicology screen to detect definitively.”

You rolled your eyes.

“That’s impressive, Dr. Reid,” Dr. Patel remarked, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than seemed strictly professional. You narrowed your eyes at her. “Did you study pharmacology formally, or is this a passion of yours?”

“I actually did a bit of formal study during my Ph.D. programs.”

“Oh, really? What did you study?”

“Chemistry and Engineering. Pharmacology intersects quite a bit with those fields, especially when looking at biochemical reactions.”

Dr. Patel seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s quite a formidable educational background. No wonder you’re so thorough with your analyses.”

You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Her admiration was professional, sure, but the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the way her voice dipped just so—it was a tone you recognized all too well.

She was flirting with him.

You watched them, your gaze sharp and assessing. Although it wasn’t like Spencer to notice her advances; he was smart, yes, but his brilliance often left him oblivious to the layers of personal interaction that didn’t involve textbooks or theories. And Dr. Patel, with her easy smile and obvious interest, seemed to have her focus on him rather than the body lying between you.

You cleared your throat, louder than necessary.

“Can we continue?” 

Dr. Patel seemed to catch your eye, her expression shifting back to professional as she nodded. “Of course.”

She resumed her explanation, detailing the various findings and pointing out subtle indicators on the body that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. Spencer listened intently, his gaze shifting between Dr. Patel and you, noticing the subtle tension in the room, but didn’t comment.

It wasn’t until you had all the information you needed—and after you caught one last flirtatious look from Dr. Patel directed at him—that Spencer finally spoke up.

“She seems nice,” he remarked as you both stepped outside the building, heading toward the parking lot.

You shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”

Spencer glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Am I missing something?” 

You looked over at him, debating whether to explain, before you finally sighed. 

“It’s just... she seemed a bit more interested in you than the case,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide your slight irritation.

And then he noticed it. The subtle tension in your voice, the way you avoided his gaze, the underlying frustration—it clicked. “Wait, are you... jealous?”

“No, I’m not!” You replied quickly, then softer, “I’m not.”

“You sound like it.”

You scoffed. “No, I sound like a friend trying to remind you that we have a case to focus on.”

“Oh, so now we’re friends?”

“I meant that in the broadest, most professional sense of the word.”

“Right,” Spencer replied sarcastically. “I didn’t realize jealousy was part of professional behavior.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you snapped. “Stop making it into something it’s not.”

“Sure.”

“Reid.”

“Y/L/N,” he shot back in the same flat tone.

Dear God, why was he so infuriating? How he had this ability, this perfectly annoying talent to get under your skin without seeming to try was beyond you. You both stared at each other for a while, until finally, you broke the silence with an exasperated sigh.

“Let’s just go,” you muttered, brushing past him.

You walked a few steps ahead, trying to shake off his words. It was absurd. The very idea was ridiculous when you were focused on the case, on solving the mystery—nothing more.

You were not jealous.

II. The Unavoidable Flight

“I’m telling you, she was definitely flirting with him,” you said, your voice a mix of disbelief and annoyance as you and Penelope made your way toward the plane. “It was so obvious, the way she kept looking at him, the tone of her voice. I mean, does professional decorum mean nothing anymore?”

“Why are you acting so surprised? Wonder Boy is actually quite the catch,” Penelope responded. “He’s not my type, but he clearly has admirers.”

Your eyes involuntarily drifted toward the man in question, who was walking a few paces behind, engaged in conversation with JJ. He was casually gripping the strap of his satchel bag, laughing at something JJ had just said. You narrowed your eyes.

“Well, I don’t understand what they see in him.”

“It might be that genius brain of his—totally irresistible to some.”

“It’s annoying, is what it is,” you grumbled, quickening your pace as the plane came into view.

Penelope responded with a sly grin. “You know what you sound like?”

“What?”

“Like someone who’s maybe a little jealous.”

You frowned, hating how she was the second person to conclude your irritation with something else. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. You seem unusually focused on how others interact with him.”

“I’m focused on maintaining a professional work environment,” you defended, trying to keep your voice even as you approached the steps of the plane. “Not about… whatever you’re implying.”

“Fine. If Dr. Patel makes her move and actually calls him, what would you do?”

Your eyes widened. “What? Who did you hear that from? Did he tell you? When did she call him?”

“Hypothetically, oh my god,” Penelope laughed, stepping onto the plane as you followed, slightly flustered. “I’m just saying, hypothetically, if it happened, what would you do? How would you react?”

You paused at the entrance, processing her question. “I’d do nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?”

“Yes, I’d do nothing because I’m not jealous.”

“That’s what any jealous person would say.”

You narrowed your eyes at her as you walked past the entrance, and when you caught her making herself comfortable on the long couch by the front, you quickly made your way to the back of the plane.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“To find a spot where my supposed jealousy isn’t your inflight entertainment,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I knew you were jealous!”

“Supposed jealousy!”

Her laughter trailed after you, ringing down the narrow aisle as you navigated through the plane, bypassing Rossi, who was typing away on his phone, and Hotch, who sat across from him with his eyes closed, leaning back against his seat. You walked further down the aisle until you spotted an empty spot at the very back of the plane, looking very isolated and inviting.

It was perfect.

“Garcia! That’s my usual spot,” Spencer’s unmistakable voice echoed through the plane as you made yourself comfortable in your chair.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him standing over Penelope, a hand gesturing toward the seat while his other hand clutched his bag.

“But it’s so comfortable,” Penelope responded, settling deeper into the plush seat. “Come on, Reid, I don’t travel as much as you do. Let me have it.”

Spencer paused, his initial protest fading as he took in Penelope’s exaggerated comfort. “Where would I sit?”

“You can sit…”

You quickly closed your eyes. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t–

“Over there! There’s an empty spot in front of Y/N.”

You were going to kill her.

You sank deeper into your chair, hoping to avoid any forced small talk or, worse, awkward silence with him. Maybe if you were lucky enough, he’d pick another chair—perhaps next to Hotch, or Rossi, or—

A cough interrupted your thoughts.

“I know you’re pretending to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you opened one eye, peeking at him.

"Mind if I sit here?"

For a moment, you considered ignoring him, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t going to let it go. You rolled your shoulders, giving up the pretense, and sat up straighter.

“Actually, yes, I do mind.”

He raised an eyebrow but lowered himself onto the seat anyway, clearly unfazed by your objection.

"Reid,” you warned him. “I’m serious.”

"I know you are.” His eyes briefly swept around the cabin as he settled into the seat across from you, placing his satchel bag on his lap. "But every other seat is taken. Unless you want me to stand in the aisle for the next few hours?"

You rolled your eyes, letting out a resigned sigh as you crossed your arms. "Fine, but I'm reserving the right to nap, and you're reserving the right to not disturb that nap."

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Do you know that you snore when you sleep?”

You gasped. “I do not!”

“You do. You sound like a little chainsaw.”

You gaped at him. The idea of a rough, grating noise being associated with you was almost laughable, and yet here he was, completely serious. You were unsure whether to be amused or offended.

“A chainsaw? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Well, considering the average chainsaw operates at around 90 decibels, I'd say it's an appropriate comparison."

“Don’t make me throw you off the plane.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Just so you know, certain sleep positions can actually help reduce snoring. Maybe you should try—ouch!”

You nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your point clear. He rubbed his leg and glanced up at you with a wry expression.

“Consider that your first and only warning,” you stated firmly before closing your eyes, signaling the end of the conversation.

“See, your position is all wrong, if you slightly elevate your—”

“Good night, Reid.”

There was suddenly a moment of silence, the kind that feels almost tangible, stretching out in the small space between you. Then, you heard it—a slight, barely audible chuckle.

You wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you, the sound so faint that it seemed it could easily be a figment of your imagination. But no, there it was again, a soft, amused sound that had you frowning even with your eyes closed.

“Good night, Y/N.”

Maybe you were already dreaming.

III. The Lock-in Incident

“Y/N,” JJ’s voice chimed from behind you while you were gathering a stack of folders on your desk. “Can you take these down to the filing room? Spencer’s already down there reorganizing some of the older case files.”

You eyed the thick folder in JJ’s hands. When there wasn’t an active case, the team often spent time organizing and maintaining the archives. As tedious as it was, it was a necessary task, and normally, you wouldn’t mind lending a hand.

But the sound of his name made you pause because working with him in a confined space seemed very much unappealing.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Aren’t you going there?” She asked, her gaze shifting to the folders in your hands.

Internally, you groaned. Yes, you were headed there, that had been the plan. But now that you knew Spencer was there, every step towards that cramped, paper-stuffed room felt like walking into a minefield.

“Maybe you should go down there instead.”

“I can’t,” she responded, already adding her folders to your pile. “I’ve got to finish my other reports before the end of the day.”

Your eyes glanced over to Derek’s desk across from you. “Morgan?”

He turned over a page in the file he was reading, not even looking up. “Sorry, Pretty Girl, I got my hands full with this case report.”

“Oh, come on.” You stormed over to him, desperation edging into your voice. “I’ll do you a favor—anything you want.”

Derek glanced up, finally giving you his attention, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Anything I want?”

“Within reason.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I really can’t. This report’s due in an hour.”

Frustrated, you glanced over towards Emily’s desk, hoping for a backup, but groaned when you saw it was empty.

You finally sighed, feeling the weight of your options—or lack thereof—settle on your shoulders. You gathered the heavy folders in your arms, the paper edges digging slightly into your skin. It was just a few hours, you reasoned; you could manage Spencer. He could be insufferable, but you had your own ways of being equally annoying.

With a deep breath, you headed toward the filing room, mentally preparing yourself. He was already busy sorting through a pile of disorganized paperwork when you got there, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I have more work for you,” you announced in a sing-song voice.

Spencer looked up, his eyes scanning the sight of the hefty folders in your arms. “Nope. They’re yours, not mine.”

You paused, leaning on the table filled with sorted files. “Are you sure you want me to do this by myself? Because, you know, I might just rearrange what you’ve already organized here. It would be a shame if all your hard work got… scrambled.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he quickly warned. “Hand them over. I’ll do it myself.”

You moved closer and placed the folders next to his neatly arranged stacks, deliberately nudging them just enough to seem accidental.

“Really?” he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he carefully realigned the folders you had nudged. “You know, we could actually get this done much faster if you’re not acting like a child.”

“Oh, please. Like you’re the mature one.”

“At least I’m trying to get the job done, not make it harder.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight about every little detail, it wouldn’t be so hard,” you shot back, grabbing another stack of files to sort.

“I’m not uptight. I’m precise. There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.”

Spencer opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, the sudden sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the cramped room. Both of you turned around simultaneously.

“Did that just…?” He began, stepping towards the door and trying the handle. It didn’t budge. He jiggled it again, more forcefully this time. “Great, it’s locked.”

“What?” You walked over, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Who the hell locked it?”

“I don’t think anyone did. These old doors… they stick. It’s probably just jammed,” Spencer explained, though his voice carried a hint of doubt.

Yeah, right, you thought, your skepticism growing. Despite his logical explanation, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect, and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone might have been behind this.

But then the reality of the situation sank in. Your immediate concern shifted to the fact that you were trapped here, with him, until someone realized you were missing. The prospect was both frustrating and daunting.

“Look, let’s just keep working,” he suggested. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can figure out how to get out of here.”

You nodded, though a part of you wanted to argue. “Fine. But if we’re still stuck here by the time we’re done, you’re explaining this to Hotch.”

“We’ll get out, don’t worry.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” You picked up a folder from the pile, flipping it open to look over its contents. “How do I do this?”

“Sort them by case type first, then by date within each type.”

“So, this one would go under…?”

“Unsolved homicides,” Spencer replied, taking a quick peek at the document you held open. “And make sure it’s in chronological order with the others.”

You moved to the designated shelf, sliding the folder into its appropriate spot before returning to grab another. “Wait,” you opened the file, your eyes scanning the page. “I think this was my first case.”

You read through the document and nodded.

“Yes, look, it’s the one where the Unsub was targeting families with children,” you reminisced, your mind going back to the time when you were still new to the job. “That was such a hard case. Remember how I couldn’t stop crying? And how Hotch had to debrief me because I was still shaking even after we made the arrest?”

When you were met with silence, you looked up to see his back facing you, seeming too busy as he organized his files. You closed the document in your hands and walked back toward the shelf.

“Of course, you don’t remember,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you even remember?”

A twinge of disappointment settled in your chest, even though you hated to admit it. It was stupid, really, to expect him to recall every little detail from the past, especially when it had to do with you. But just as you turned to grab another file, Spencer’s voice stopped you.

“October 19, 2011.”

You paused, turning slowly to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“The date you started working here,” Spencer said, still focused on his task. “You wore a black blouse and the brightest shade of red on your lips.”

You blinked, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“The case was in St. Louis,” Spencer continued, now looking up to meet your gaze directly. “Your first field assignment. You told Hotch you were ready, but the case really got to your head.”

You found yourself at a loss for words, realizing what he was trying to do.

“You cried when you came back from talking with the victim’s family. You cried when the second victim was found. You cried when we finally caught the Unsub.”

You continued to stare at him, not knowing how to process his words.

“You also cried when I sat beside you on the plane.”

He remembered.

The realization struck you hard, almost like a physical blow. A part of you had convinced yourself that he barely noticed you, that any memory involving you was erased from his mind. But here he was, recalling not just any memory, but your first week when you joined the team, right down to the color of your lips.

“You…” The frown on your face deepened. “You remembered.”

There was a pause as he looked at you, his eyes carefully assessing your reaction. “It’s hard not to."

You held his gaze. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you were still on good terms. Would you smile at him now? Would you tell him that, yes, you also remembered how he allowed you to lean on his shoulder during that flight back home, despite the awkwardness of your first meeting when it seemed he’d rather keep his distance?

You shook your head, looking away from him. It was wishful thinking. Letting yourself dwell on what could have been would only lead to another heartbreak. You had learned to protect yourself, to keep your distance, because hoping for a return to those days would only make the present hurt more.

“Right,” you said, trying to keep your composure as you gripped the folder in your hand. “I forgot you have an eidetic memory.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you, a quiet, lingering gaze that you felt more than saw. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the walls seeming to close in around you as your fingers fumbled slightly with the papers, grabbing another file.

You needed to get out of here. You needed to regain control. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you can escape him.

IV. The Table For Two

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” You pressed, arms linked with JJ as you both walked down the sidewalk, your stride matching the quick tempo of your rising irritation. The accusation in your voice was clear, but JJ just offered a casual shrug, avoiding direct eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You expect me to believe it was an accident?” Your skepticism was palpable, and you watched as a small smirk played at the corner of her lips. “That the door coincidentally locked itself when we were both inside?”

“The doors are old,” she said, keeping her gaze forward, her steps even and unhurried. “You know how it is, sometimes if you even just shut them too hard, they jam. Could happen to anyone.”

Her tone was too nonchalant, too practiced, and you tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Right, and I suppose it was also just chance that the door closed by itself?”

JJ paused, finally facing you with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t do it.”

“Then somebody did.”

“Y/N,” she replied, her smile broadening in a way that only heightened your irritation. “Nobody did.”

You groaned, resuming your walk as you pulled her along. “You guys are so annoying.”

JJ laughed. “How did you get out of there anyway?”

You sighed, the memory of the escape bringing a frown to your face. The entire time you were locked in that room, you had done everything possible to avoid talking to him, focusing on shuffling through files and pretending to be absorbed in the work.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence and strained small talk, you both gave up trying to ignore the situation and started moving around the cramped space, phones held high, desperately trying to find a signal. When you finally managed to get a single bar, you quickly dialed Penelope, who answered with her usual upbeat tone, clearly amused by your predicament.

"We had to call Garcia to let us out,” you said, your tone dry. “She found the whole thing hilarious."

JJ's laughter grew as she imagined the scene. "She would have loved that. Probably made her day to rescue the two of you."

“She’s already teasing us about it.”

Her laughter slowly died down as she gave your arm a light tug. “Did anything happen while you two were in there?”

You hesitated, recalling the awkward silence, the shuffling of papers, and that brief, tensed exchange. “Not really,” you admitted. “We just tried to organize the files without screaming at each other.”

“But did you talk at all? I mean, really talk?”

“Jennifer,” you warned, the tone of your voice hinting that she was treading on uncomfortable territory. The thought of delving deeper into what had—or hadn’t—happened in that room was not something you were eager to talk about.

“I know, I know, it’s complicated,” she conceded. “Just thought it seemed like a good opportunity to maybe clear the air between you two.”

“Well, you thought wrong. There’s nothing to talk about.”

JJ looked at you skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through your defenses. She seemed on the verge of pushing further, but then her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She glanced at the screen and sighed, giving you an apologetic look. "Hold on, I need to take this. It's Will."

You nodded and watched as she stepped a few feet away to answer the call. You waited and tried to give her privacy, but it was hard when her words were clear as you listened to her talk, and the more she spoke, the more you narrowed your eyes at her.

“…right now… sure… no, it’s fine… I can be there in ten… of course, honey...”

You crossed your arms when JJ finally ended the call and turned back towards you.

"I need to head home,” she said, a bit too casually. “Will got called into work unexpectedly.”

Suspicion started to creep in as you processed her words. The timing was impeccable—a little too perfect. You both were supposed to meet up with Penelope and Derek for dinner, and it was almost guaranteed that Spencer would be there too, considering Derek had taken it upon himself to drag him along at any given chance under the pretense that ‘the kid needs to go out more’.

But the thought of JJ bailing on you on such short notice seemed out of pocket, even for her.

"Really, right now?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly. She shifted on her feet, her smile a bit forced. “Is everything okay?”

JJ nodded, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked more like amusement than guilt. "Yeah, I just need to get home to the kids. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

The more she spoke, the more your suspicion grew. Her demeanor seemed too casual, almost rehearsed, as if she was trying to assure you while simultaneously eager to leave. It felt like she was in on some inside joke that you weren't aware of.

“Well, if you really have to go…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” JJ flashed a quick, almost relieved smile and gave you a hurried kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time tonight, and fill me in on all the details later.”

“Details? What details?” You called after her but she was already walking away. “JJ! Why do I have to fill you in the details?”

She simply waved a hand without turning back, leaving you standing there with a growing sense of unease. You slowly resumed your walk, taking out your phone to call Penelope but stopped in your tracks when you saw a message from her, sent five minutes ago.

Hey, Sweetie, so sorry I can’t make it to dinner tonight! Something urgent came up. Have fun without me :)

Your stomach dropped as you read the message. First JJ, and now Garcia? It was starting to feel like you were being abandoned, or worse, you were being set up. You glanced around, half expecting to see Derek lurking in the shadows with a mischievous grin, orchestrating this whole fiasco.

It wasn’t until you arrived at the restaurant and spotted Spencer alone at the entrance, trying to avoid any immediate contact with the other patrons, that you realized your suspicion was confirmed. The pieces clicked together almost too neatly, and the man seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

His discomfort was evident as he adjusted his stance, gripping the strap of his bag, eyes darting to you as you approached him.

“Morgan’s late,” he announced as a greeting.

“He’s not coming,” you said, unable to keep the annoyance from creeping into your voice. “And neither is JJ or Penny.”

“He told you that?”

“No,” you replied with a sigh. “But it’s pretty obvious now, isn’t it?”

"What is?"

“That we’ve been set up,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “They’re not coming, and I’m willing to bet they never planned to.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You think they did this on purpose? Why would they—”

“Come on, Reid,” you interrupted. “They’ve been nudging us to talk for weeks. What better way than to leave us no choice?”

Spencer’s gaze hardened slightly. “I don’t need to be manipulated into having a conversation,” he said sharply.

“And you think I do?” You retorted. “I’m not exactly thrilled about being tricked into a dinner date either, if that’s what this is supposed to be.”

“It’s not a date,” Spencer replied quickly, almost defensively.

“Well, that’s one thing we agree on,” you snapped, then sighed, trying to rein in your temper. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go home.”

There was a pause as Spencer looked around, his eyes settling back on you. “You want to go home?”

“You don’t?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well stay and eat. It’s not like I have any better plans.”

You blinked, taken aback by his response. A part of you had expected him to jump at the chance to escape, but here he was, suggesting you to stay.

It seemed like a bad idea. The tension, the potential for awkward silences, the possibility of yet another argument—it all pointed to leaving being the better option. But against our better judgment, you found yourself considering his suggestion more than you wanted to admit.

Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or perhaps it was the realization that leaving now would only make things more awkward the next time you saw each other. Dinner with Spencer was the last option you’d choose, but it was better than coming home to an empty fridge.

“Fine,” you finally said, brushing past him. “But you’re paying.”

Spencer looked momentarily surprised but then nodded. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the restaurant, but immediately stopped in your tracks when you took in the setting. This wasn’t just a restaurant, it was a place designed for dates. The realization made you pause as you looked around the room in horror.

The dim lighting cast a soft glow on polished wood and fine china, while a gentle melody played subtly in the background, setting an unmistakable romantic mood. Just as you were taking in the scene, a hostess approached with a warm, inviting smile. 

"A table for two?" 

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you realized how the evening was poised to look. Turning slightly to gauge Spencer's reaction, you found him even more flustered, his face turning a shade redder as he stammered a response. "Uh, yes, that's—um, that will be fine."

The hostess nodded and led you to a small, intimate table near the window. Spencer fidgeted with the strap of his bag as you both sat down, his eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "This is... not exactly what I expected.”

You took the menu from the hostess before she left you both alone. “I’m going to kill them,” you muttered, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit extreme.”

You sighed, flipping through the menu without really seeing it. “They’re always meddling. They don’t know when to stop. I'm also convinced that being locked earlier was also part of their plan. And this—this is just so...” 

“Annoying?” He offered.

“Infuriating,” you emphasized, throwing your hands up. “It’s infuriating. And embarrassing. And—”

“And yet, here we are,” he cut in, feeling the same way. Spencer paused for a moment, then leaned in slightly, sending you a pointed look. “You know, maybe we should just give them what they want.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s a fact that humans are generally satisfied when they get what they want. And since what our friends want is for the two of us to get along, maybe we should just... pretend that we do.”

“Reid,” you pressed, mirroring his posture as you leaned forward. “They don’t want us to just get along. Look around us. They want us to really get along.” 

Spencer paused, considering your words, his gaze lingering on the candlelit table and the other couples around, deep in conversation. He seemed to realize the full extent of the setup, the romantic undertone that wasn't simply incidental but intentional.

“You’re right,” he finally responded, leaning back in his seat. “Forget what I said. It was stupid.”

You studied him as he opened the menu, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his face. He was right. Not only was it stupid, it was crazy. Pretending to be civil with him was one thing, pretending that you shared some kind of unspoken, lingering feelings was another thing. The mere thought of it made your heart race, but you couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or nervousness.

You quickly shook your head. It was ridiculous. How could you even begin to pretend to have feelings for someone with whom you shared such a complicated past? How could you act like there was something more between you when the reality was so different?

The whole idea was far-fetched, almost laughable. You couldn’t imagine yourself romantically involved with him, even if it was just for pretend.

[keferon]

prowl stared down at the helm. it was... eerie. he felt as though he should recognize it, perhaps it belonged to someone he used to know. the contours of the faceplate were familiar, like an old friend spotted in a crowd; a fleeting moment of wanting to reach out and say hello before they disappeared back into the midst of bodies.

energon dripped from the cavity gouged into the back of the helm. he was sure it was dripping down his claws but the nerves weren't registering sensation, dulled and dampened by pain blockers and misaligned cables after... well prowl wasn't quite sure when his claws stopped registering sensation. jazz had looked at him funny when ratchet had checked him over.

maybe funny wasn't the right word. sad perhaps? melancholic? prowl's brain module was having trouble keeping up all the minute shifts in the spy's facial expressions.

drip drip drip

more energon spilled onto the floor. he couldn't... he wasn't sure why he was feeling so hollow. it wasn't normal. he was efficient, he was smart, he was emotionless. that was what everyone had always called him. he was a calculator, the tactician, the strategist.

but why did jazz look so sad now?

prowl was fine. he was sure of it. his depth perception was... wrong, that much was obvious by the way he smacked into doorframes and knocked over datapads when he tried to reach for them. and his claws didn't feel quite right, not like the longing he felt when jazz would try to help him drink energon right. it seemed so easy to pick up the cubes but prowl just couldn't manage it despite how ingrained the claws felt.

the helm in his claws stared up at him, hollow optics and empty skull a reminder of something he couldn't quite recall.

"prowl?"

he looked up. jazz stood in the doorway. he looked...

emotional regulators non responsive.

social etiquette protocols non responsive.

he looked fine. he looked like jazz. he looked normal.

prowl tilted his helm as jazz's gingerly took the helm from him.

"prowler?" jazz set the helm down. "hey, you uh, you doing alright."

why was jazz asking him that? of course he was fine. he was prowl. he was always fine. he tilted his doorwings up in response. part of him wished he could force his vocaliser online but speaking was so hard.

"i guess you're okay. do you..." jazz's own doorwings dipped. prowl's processor recognised it as a sign of sadness. "do you recognise that helm?"

prowl shook his helm. he was fine. he was always fine.

"yeah... yeah that figures." jazz sighed, gently grabbing prowl's arm. "c'mon mech, let's get ya some energon. ratchet finally got some cubes that are claw friendly."

prowl allowed himself one last look at the helm sitting on the table before letting jazz lead him out of the room.

anyways! i really wanted to write a short little thing about my art. hope you enjoy :]3

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNO

FUCK FUCK FUCK DON'T DO THAT TO ME (PLEASE DO)

[sometimesanalice]

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun. 

[tsuvvy]

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 1

Your Chance

The Batfamily is getting intel and weapons back from a dangerous villain. But he had a bodyguard. A child bodyguard who didn't really seem interested in their task of guarding the villain. You seemed more interested in killing Cassandra.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, talk of killing, talk of weapons, use of weapons, use of electricity in fighting, cussing, ik Jason and Damian are skilled and can adapt to many different types of fighters, but for the sake of this, they were caught extremely off guard..

Word Count: 3.1k

You looked down at your palms, letting the volts of electricity flicker and surge around your hands. You let out a breath.

This was your one chance. Your one chance to prove to your dad that you weren't a failure. You could kill. You could kill more efficiently and quickly than Cassandra ever could. And you could do it in cold blood, unlike Cassandra who was left disgusted with her first kill.

And you would prove it by killing her.

The moon was bright in the sky, just as the bat symbol was. You stared at it through the window with a kind of hope most didn't have. The hope that you would kill someone that answers to the bat symbol in the sky.

You struggled with speech. You grew up sheltered, only being taught to kill from the moment you were put on the ground to crawl. You were a lot alike to Cassandra. But you were a quick learner. You could quickly pick up on the speech of others, and the body language to decipher a little bit of what the words might mean in different situations.

The words you knew were a small amount that you couldn't get out of your mouth without a bit of struggle.

“No, that Cain guy sent this kid,” you glanced over your shoulder to look at the desk behind you where a man in a nice suit sat. He was lazing around in his chair, his legs kicked up on the desk as he looked at you. You remember your dad calling him Kerrim. Kerrim didn't realize you were looking back, “one creepy ass kid,” he added the remark onto his statement from before. “He said they're one of the best, but I won't buy it till I see it.” He smirked in doubtful amusement.

Orphan, Red Hood, and Robin worked diligently to avoid the cameras of the building and avoid guards that walked around.

Though it wasn't easy.

“I wasn't expecting the guard to be so high up..” Red Hood grumbled, peeking around the corner at a few guards that were speaking in the hallway.

“And what did you expect?” Robin grumbled back, looking up at the man, “That this guy was dumb? No. Someone can't make it this high up into the drug business by being dumb.” He sent a scowl at Red Hood from behind his domino mask.

“Aww, did you just call me smart?” Red Hood smirked from behind his helmet, looking down at Robin.

“Focus.” Orphan reminded the two, “We have to take the guards out, we can't get past them any other way..”

“On it.” Red Hood said.

“Wait-” Red Hood was already turning the corner, immediately alerting the guards to his presence.

“Huh.. Guess someone can get up the drug business by being dumb.” Robin remarked as he watched around the corner with Orphan.

“Intruder!” One of the guards had yelled into his walkie talkie clipped to the breast pocket of his vest. “Intruder in sector G!”

Red Hood was fighting with the other guard. Knocking him off of his feet by kicking under his legs and knocking him unconscious by kicking him in the head.

“Shit!” Red Hood yelled when alarms started going off and red lights started flashing everywhere.

Orphan and Robin looked to the camera above their head they had been in the blind spot of. It was now angled directly towards them.

‘What did you idiots do!?’ Tim yelled through the coms in their ears.

Red Hood had started fighting with the other guard, having a bit of trouble before Orphan rushed forward.

“‘You idiots?’ It was Red Hood!” Robin retorted back into the coms as he too moved around the corner.

Orphan had rushed past Red Hood and landed a flurry of well calculated hits and kicks to the guard. One of the kicks that sent him colliding into the wall knocked him out as well. He slid against the wall falling to the floor.

The three looked down the hall at the sounds of footsteps. Many of them.

“You are an imbecile. An imbecile!” Robin yelled at Red Hood before he turned around the corner again, already running down the hall before Red Hood and Orphan followed.

“Well sorry I was taking initiative!” Red Hood yelled at the kid in annoyance.

“In here!” Orphan called, beckoning the two into a room that looked to be for something like storage. It was big and barren enough to hear an echo.

“They went this way!” The three stopped in the middle of the room, turning to look at the door in anticipation when the guard had yelled that. They expected anyone to walk in at any moment. But they heard a group of bounding footsteps pass the door.

Your head whipped around at the flashing red lights and the alarms sounding throughout the whole building.

“Shit!” Kerrim screamed, jumping out of his seat in an instant, his hands on the desk. “How the hell did they get in without getting noticed!?”

You were practically already at the door. “Hey!” He screamed at you, “Where the hell are you going!!?” But you didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge you. “Get back here, you little rat!!” And you were out the door.

“Damnit!” Kerrim slammed his hands against the desk before whipping around and kicking his swivel chair, which went rolling. His kick barely did anything to the chair. “Cain said you were one of the best!” He yelled after you. Or.. More at the door you had just exited through. “But the best know how to follow orders!”

Kerrim started pacing around the room, grumbling and screaming frustrated curses that also held anxiety for the situation with intruders in the building.

All you could think about was the chance you had just gained. You knew it was her. Or at least someone from the accursed Batman vigilante group. But even if it wasn’t Cassandra. You could get her attention by killing another she cared for.

This is your chance

You have to take it while you have it.

You can't pass this up.

Despite not expecting to meet the intruders almost right outside Kerrim’s office, just down the wide hall. Neither looked to be Cassandra to your disappointment. But you recognized them to be Robin and Red Hood. People affiliated with her.

The three had taken a moment to regroup and catch their breaths before they had slipped out of the storage room door and listened to Tim’s directions to get to Kerrim's office.

Red Hood and Robin froze at the sight of you, but you had already unsheathed your sword with the swiftness and speed equivalent to that of a bird's. They weren't expecting a kid to come out of Kerrim’s office. Especially not a kid that looked to be the same age or younger than Robin.

“What the hell!!?” He screamed, just barely dodging the slashes of your swords. Robin had unsheathed his own sword, raising it and bringing it down to attack you. But you ricocheted the attack, blocking it and throwing the direction of his sword in another before you raised your leg, kicking him in the side and sending him colliding with a wall.

“Who in the hell is this kid!?” Red Hood shrieked, dodging slice after slice of your attacks. For a little kid, you were extremely strong, agile, and obviously professionally trained in fighting. Well enough to be able to have a chance at winning a fight with a grown man twice your size and a boy trained to be an assassin since birth.

‘Their fighting style's familiar..’ Tim muttered into the com. ‘Wait, where did Orphan go?’

You let the electricity conduct into the grip of the sword. It didn’t take too long for it to travel up into the blade, starting to wrap around it. Red Hood raised his gun up, having the intention to use it to block the slice of your sword. But he hadn't expected it to cut through. He felt a shock in his arm, and soon it went numb and tingly for a moment. The half of his gun he still held fell from his hand and collided to the ground.

He jumped back, staring at you from behind his helmet in shock.

The electricity in your sword had traveled into his gun and then his hand to produce the effect that it did.

“Red Hood, are you okay!?” He heard through the coms in his ears.

“Cassandra..” You spoke in a somewhat shaky and strained voice, like you were struggling to speak. “Where.. Is she?” Your voice, apart from the struggle it took to find the words, was somewhat muffled due to the cloth of the mask you wore over your mouth.

“What..?” Red Hood asked, confused. The struggle you had with your speech took him aback.

“Where..” You swallowed, “where is Cassandra.”

Red Hood was at a loss for words. He was confused on how a kid like you that appeared out of nowhere was so skilled with a sword and a power as adept as electricity. He knew children could be good fighters, Cassandra and Robin being prime examples. But you? Something was different about you. Your fighting style was familiar, just like Tim had noticed. But the other thing was.

“How do you know Cassandra?” Robin spoke coldly behind you. Yeah.. That was what Red Hood had been getting to.

You didn't respond, which caused Robin’s brows to furrow and his eyes to narrow on you behind his domino mask.

“Fine, I'll say it again. How do you know who Cassandra is?” His voice was more stern, growing a venom in it that could kill like a Cobra’s.

“Where is she?” Your voice still held that shake and struggle in it.

Something about you reminded Robin of someone. But he couldn't place his finger on who.

Neither of the two watching you noticed the way you were charging up a surge of electricity within your hand. Neither noticed it before you were throwing your arm out towards Robin, shooting it at him.

Robin was caught off guard. He hadn't been expecting you to be able to charge up your ability so quickly. He couldn't move quick enough to dodge it.

Just before it touched his middle, he was being tackled from the side. He looked up in surprise at Orphan.

She was already standing up, directing her attention to you.

“I’m right here,” She told you.

Your eyes widened somewhat, and you turned to look at her better. You couldn’t believe it. There she is. And not in some old picture or low quality one your father had managed to get someone to take. It was her in front of you in the flesh.

You’re taking your chance.

Red Hood lurched forward, thinking your attention was fully on Orphan. Though it wasn’t. You had made sure to keep both Robin and Red Hood in your peripheral vision. A surge of electricity started to travel through your arm before getting to your hand. The surging light seemed to wrap around your arm and now your hand as it traveled. Your palm collided with his stomach. Your touch seemed more gentle, but the powerful shock that seemed equivalent to a defibrillator shocked Red Hood’s insides. He stumbled backward.

His limbs felt numb, the room was spinning, he couldn’t focus and his whole body was in pain.

“Red Hood!” Robin and Cassandra cried, so did Tim within the coms. Red Hood stumbled a bit more.

Your attention was already back on Cassandra. You held your sword in both hands, rushing forward and slicing at the black haired vigilante. She moved quickly, you couldn’t deny it. Quicker than the first two did. Though you could tell you had only caught Robin off guard, you knew he could fight better. But that didn’t matter. Now Cassandra is here. Now she is your priority.

Again, she was quick. She dodged your countless attacks you threw at her with your sword. Robin had gone to Red Hood’s side, checking his pulse.

You swung your sword, but Cassandra slipped under it and rushed forward. Your eyes widened as you saw her hand was going for a pressure point in your wrist, crap. No.. It’s okay. You’re fine. You were trained just like her, if not better. And you have an advantage.

You threw your sword to the side, it was the only option so you could keep control of your hands. If you held onto it, she would have paralyzed your wrists for as long as she felt necessary. Electricity surged and wrapped around your calf, traveling down to your foot. You pushed backwards with that foot, putting your weight on the leg you didn’t have electricity rushing through. You raised your foot, kicking Cassandra with a strength that could knock down one of the heavier training dummies at the Manor’s gym.

Cassandra couched, stumbling backwards for a moment while holding her side you had kicked. She had winced in pain, closing an eye tightly to somehow deal with it. Her side was throbbing, and she knew the electricity had traveled into her arms and legs because she could feel her fingertips throbbing, and her legs had felt weak for a second. But, she recovered quickly. The two of you looked at each other, in some sort of a stand off like you see in those western movies. But two of you were now fighting hand to hand.

“Orphan,” Robin called from the side, Red Hood had recovered some, being able to stand now. But he still looked a bit disoriented.

“Go,” Cassandra said, “I can handle this.”

Robin and Red Hood listened, heading towards the door behind them. You didn’t care. Again, Cassandra is your priority, not them.

“Right.” Robin said, going towards the door. You didn't care about protecting Kerrim. It's not like he meant anything to you. Plus, your father will be proud when you kill Cassandra. Far prouder than if you kept some random drug lord alive.

You lurched forward, immediately catching her attention again. You threw a kick at her which she had dogged and you ducked under the punch she sent at you. You winced when she kicked your side and you caught her leg. You pulled it forward roughly, also pulling Cassandra towards you and let go of her leg; you punched her in the face. Your fist collided with her jaw.

Cassandra ignored the slight pain radiating within her cheek and threw her arms out forward and around you. She wrapped her arms around your middle tightly. You tried to push against her, but she was strong. Stronger than you were really expecting. She pushed you forward until your back hit against the wall of the wide hallway roughly. It hurt and knocked the wind out of you, but you recovered quickly. You raised up your own leg and kicked the heel of the boot you wore into Cassandra’s abdomen. She stumbled backwards, holding her abdomen with one arm, and the other arm was at her side.

She looked at you with a wince on her face, her jaw clenched. You rushed forward and started sending electrified punches and kicks at her, but she dodged them all, some just barely. But she dodged them all.

You were growing more and more frustrated. And with that, your attacks just grew more and more aggressive.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked as she blocked a kick of your’s with her forearm. She couldn’t see your whole face because of the mask you were wearing to at least hide the bottom half of your face. But she could see your eyes. And she saw the way your brows furrowed. She recognized it. She recognized the dim look on your face. She realized it was the one she used to have when she was about your age.

She realized you couldn't understand what she was saying. She felt a pain of empathy fall through her body, landing in her stomach.

You had no idea what she was saying. It sounded like gibberish. But you could tell she was holding back. She wasn’t fighting as well as she could have. Your father made you watch videos of how Cassandra fought when she was your age. She was incredibly skilled, you knew that. And how she was fighting now was that you’ve seen from a novice from the League of Assassins.

Your father realized not long after you grew more of a consciousness for yourself that you had a short temper. You get frustrated easily. And he also realized your meta human ability might be tied with your emotions. You and your electricity got stronger, more relentless, and faster.

And Cassandra had noticed this too. She was amazed with you. You were so young, no older than 14 or maybe 13 and you were already so in control of your abilities. And you were quick. Very quick.

You were about to high kick her in the side of her head, but you made a mistake. You slipped. The foot you put all of your weight on slipped on the ground. Your eyes widened. Cassandra grabbed your wrists and decided on falling with you.

You winced when your back hit the ground roughly. You felt your head knock against the ground roughly as well. Her forearm was against your neck, and she had both of your wrists pinned to the ground above your head. You felt one of her knees pressing firmly against your abdomen, and her other foot was on the ground next to you both, holding her up.

You felt your head pounding, and your eyes grew heavy, no doubt because of it’s collision with the ground. You looked around. Your vision was mixed with spots of different sizes as you looked at the walls and dim lights on the cieling that seemed greatly bright now. Soon, your gaze landed on the woman above you.

Cassandra. Crap.. Cassandra had you pinned to the ground. You need to get up. You need to fight. You need to kill her. You can’t lose, not like this when you’re so close to your mission.

You tried to push against her grip on your wrists, and you tried to push your abdomen up to maybe push her knee off of you, but it wasn’t any use. You were too weak, and you were too tired.

The most you could was charge up a weak volt of electricity into your arms and send them up to your wrists. All Cassandra felt was a tiny shock like static shock from a door or clothing.

Then everything went black..

Chapter Two ->

[autumnmobile12]

Villain Deku AU

Most of the time when I see the Villain Deku AU, he's often crazy, and while I do love that concept, I really want to see more sarcastic, cinnamon roll 'Moxxie from Helluva Boss' vibes.

Shigaraki: And that's the plan, any questions?

Deku: Uh, yeah, what was that?

Shigaraki: That wasn't a question, Deku.

Deku: That wasn't a plan.

...

Remember my League of Morons vs A Summer Camp post?

Deku can fix that.

Shigaraki: All right, smart ass, you think you can do better?

Deku: I actually can. Your first mistake is attacking the second night of the camp. Let them all have their summer camp fun. By the end of a single week of non-stop, hardcore training, they'll be exhausted and less likely to fight off a surprise attack efficiently. Now, before the camp begins, we'll need Spinner to drive out there. You're the only one of us who hasn't committed any significant crimes yet.

Spinner: Why is that important?

Deku: *smiling cheerfully* Because you're a civilian. The Wild, Wild Pussycats aren't going to think it's weird if a civilian drives up to their base asking for directions through the mountains. Just make sure you have nice, dead battery for your cell phone. Ooh, or you could park on the road with a low tank of gas and walk up to their base! That'll sell it.

Spinner: Sell what?

Deku: You're getting the exact coordinates of the building for Kurogiri, of course. Once we have that information, he can open warp gates beneath our target while he's asleep and let gravity do the rest.

Kurogiri: You suggest we strike at night?

Deku: Right. You want to kidnap Kaachan, so we do it covertly while everyone's asleep. After that, if you really want to send a message to the heroes, we can always seal up the doors and windows, then Mustard can gas the building. Or Dabi can burn it to the ground. Your choice. Painless death in their sleep or painful death by fire?

Dabi: ...holy fuck, that's insane.

All-For-One: *through the computer monitor* Intriguing proposition, Deku. I suppose you have a back-up plan in case something goes wrong.

Deku: About that, it's entirely possible one of the Pussycats or UA teachers will be on look-out and if that's the case, Eraserhead will be the biggest obstacle. Most of you rely extremely heavily on your Quirks. We'll have to work on that, but in our current time frame, doing so before the summer camp is not feasible. So we'll need to remove the one player who can nullify Quirks. That'll be Mr. Compress's job.

Compress: And how exactly will I do that?

Deku: You'll hit him with a surprise attack. Kurogiri will open a warp gate for you, and the second he does, then you strike. Simple.

Muscular: Yeah, and what about the rest of us?

Deku: You'll be on standby in case Compress fails or draws too much attention to himself. Now about our hostage situation...do we really want Kaachan?

Kurogiri: What do you mean?

Deku: Well I know Kaachan. Despite his violent tendencies, he does have a strong sense of justice and he won't be easy to corrupt. Might I suggest taking the heteromorph students instead? Given society's discrimination problem against what they call the 'non-human' types, they've already got a reason for dissatisfaction with how they've been treated since they were born. Oh, and we should take Yaoyorozu Momo, too.

All: ....why?

Deku: She's rich. Her Quirk is infinitely useful, of course, but even if we can't convince her to join the League, her family will pay us a hefty ransom to get her back. For the record, so will Endeavor if we abduct his youngest son, too. Or we could just ransom the oldest one if all else fails.

Dabi: How the fuck did you know?!

Deku: ...Todoroki Touya allegedly burned up in a massive forest fire and the body was never found. You have a fire Quirk and horrific, full body burn scars and are the age he would have been today. It's not rocket science.

Shigaraki: ...this brat just hijacked my entire plan.

...

He'd quickly become the Bilbo Baggins of LoV, the one who's solving all the problems right up until they get to the fight with Gigantomachia, at which point he says, "No, I'm not helping you this time. He's gotta respect you, this is your quest. I'm not the fighting type, so I'll just sit back and watch." Proceeds to sit quietly and take notes while observing the fight.

Dabi also wasn't helping out with that fight, so every now and then he checks in on their progress. He just shows up, mildly entertained and mostly annoyed by the collective ineptitude (not that he's any better,) and he walks up to Deku.

Dabi: So how many ways have you thought of to defeat him?

Both: *duck as Spinner goes flying over them*

Deku: ...47. How's that recruitment process going? Because you're starting to look way more useful as a bargaining chip for ransom.

Dabi: Says the guy who's just sitting here.

[mejcinta]

Writing and Directing Choices of HoTD Season 2 and How They Harmed Storylines and Characters.

Hotd is a cinematic marvel...that much cannot be denied. However, I can't help but wonder had they just directed scenes better, if we could've gotten MORE from the characters as a result?

To me, what is off about season 2 compared to season 1 is this feeling that we're shoved outside as the audience. We're not in the characters' heads and experiencing what they're experiencing in the moment, therefore we wound up feeling like their actions in season 2 are ooc.

Think of Aemond in s1 vs s2. In season 1 we had time alone with him as a kid, when he went hunting for a dragon TWICE. The camera lingered on his face during tense moments to convey his feelings like when his eye was slashed out and he was boiling with anger and vengeance at Viserys' dismissal of his pain. Additionally, we had a lot of screen time with Aemond in s1, whereas in s2 he barely has any.

It's hard enough having a season slashed down to 8 episodes from 10, now we have more new characters thrown into the mix that need focusing on. So the writers had to be smart and the directors super efficient.

A scene of Aemond walking through the Streets of Silk, despondent about the B&C incident before he stops to go inside the brothel to be with Sylvi and vent out his frustrations and hurt would've done WONDERS for Aemond. Just that one scene would put us in his headspace and take us through this new development he has taken up over the 10 days since Alicent pushed him away, his shame, his guilt and resentments. With this one Aemond centered scene we would have perfect set up and context for why Aemond does what he does in RR to Aegon, why he clips Alicent's wings at the small council and tries to force Helaena out of her comfort zone.

Instead, the brothel scene started off with the pleasure house and we followed whores around before being thrust with the shocking scene of Aemond there without any explanation or justification.

Helaena also suffered a bit from poor visual direction. Instead of following her around the Keep before the B&C attack, we're forced to hang around with the criminals and at some point attempts are made to make them seem FUNNY and relatable (Cheese and his dog).

In all that confusion, we are somehow thrust into Jaehaerys' bedchamber where Cheese is holding Helaena captive. So random. Why did we not see HOW that happened?

Would it not have been better to cut from Blood and Cheese approaching to HELAENA preparing to retire to bed and suddenly seeing Cheese in the doorway??? Would it not have been better to be in the room with Helaena as she spends her final moments with her peacefully sleeping children before horror strikes?

Wouldn't it have been better for Helaena to remain in the chamber with her dead child in her arms as his head is carried away, unable to scream...instead of distracting us with her walking into Alicent having sex?

This moment was supposed to be about Helaena and her mental trauma, her grief, her pain. If anything her stumbling into Aegon as she tries to escape would've made more creative sense. And we end with Aegon screaming.

I feel like so much story potential and character potential was wasted in efforts to forcefully remind us that House of the Dragon is Alicent and Rhaenyra's show. In fact if you carefully observe the season, you can notice easily how focus is put on pointless and repetitive scenes featuring them while other characters remain underutilized and unexplored, even just by visual direction.

I truly hope that season 3 will apply better directing and writing that adds depth to characters in the minimal screen time that they have because this season just wasn't it.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 18

Description: Miguel deals with Todd, and has a late night visitor—you.

Pt 19

The purr of car engines overhead, the slight rattling of the bridge, the coos of pigeons and the soft lapping of the waves fills Miguel's ears as he stares down at the waterlogged corpse at his feet.

“Lyla, how many people know about this?”

“About the mauled body of your new girlfriend's ex-boyfriend?” Lyla smirks, her heart shaped sunglasses low on her nose as she observes the scene.

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Lyla, please just answer my question.”

“Just a few displaced people along the river, the Swedish shipping vessel that reported the sighting, and the Coast Guard has the call record, but since you got lucky with the currents and since I made a few more urgent calls to the Coast Guard, they haven't set eyes on him yet.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Thank you.” He says as he zips up the body bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do with him?” She asks, flickering in and out of his masked vision.

“Acid.”

“Acid? Lame.” Lyla huffs.

He snorts. “It's quick, efficient, and less likely to leave a trace.”

“Yeah, but wasn't he like a total dick to y/n?”

He grunts in response as he swings through the city until he finds the disposal grounds of Janson Inc, the manufacturing company you mentioned Todd works for.

“I mean, I thought you'd go way more psycho than you did.” She says, laughter on the horizon of her tone.

“Lyla” He warns, as he heaves the body bag containing Todd into the acid, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the fabric, flesh, and bone dissolve.

“Ok, ok, I'm just saying, I think I know you pretty well and-”

“I want him forgotten, I want y/n to forget about him.”

Lyla says nothing for a moment, then sighs heavily. “Miguel…you know it doesn't work like that. You might have been able to easily replace this universe's version of you, but that doesn't mean you can just as easily replace Todd.”

Miguel turns from the acid, the surrounding area bathed in a sickly green glow. “I know.”

“And you know y/n's different from Ana, Xina, Dana, and even Tempest, she cares about you, about Gabi. She really cares about Gabi. She's not just going to jump you now that her ex-boyfriend is gone. She's going to weigh the consequences.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, and for a moment his mind supplies him with the memory of you begging for him, his name on your lips like a fervent plea as you fall apart on his thigh. Of the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you reached for him in the doorway of your apartment.

He grunts in response. He knows you, better than you know he does, better than Todd did, perhaps better than anyone else in the world. You'll weigh the consequences, but that doesn't mean he can't try to lighten the load.

“Okay, Mr. Stupid and Silent, don't believe me. It's your funeral.” Lyla huffs before her form flickers out, and he's left alone in the dark.

Miguel unlocks the door to his apartment and silently pads through the quiet space.

Gabi's asleep, he knows this. You're asleep, he knows this. He should also be asleep, but he's filled with a nameless emotion--an anxious energy raging against the edges of sleep that are threatening to creep in on him.

He sits at his desk, flipping through security feeds, ensuring there's no record of him. He's clean, there's no trace of him or Todd.

He was smart, made sure no one would see when he broke into Todd's apartment and knocked him out.

No one noticed as he carried Todd's unconscious body to an abandoned warehouse, and no one heard Todd's screams as he tore into him, leaving him a mangled mess that Miguel finally dangled him off the bridge.

He watched unflinching as Todd plummeted. The sound of Todd's body slamming into the water echoed off the banks, and Miguel waited until he sank to return to his apartment.

No one would ever know. He got away clean.

“Hey Boss? Y/N's here.” Lyla says, her words hitting him a millisecond before he hears your soft knocking on his door.

He bolts up, running a hand through his hair and checking his appearance in the hall mirror before he swings open the door to see you. Perfect, perfect you.

Your hair is loose, hanging free, and you're clad in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweatshirt.

Are you wearing pants under that? Shorts? Is this a seduction tactic? Because it's working.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I just...” You wave your hands helplessly, your nails are pink, a pretty pearlescent pink.

He reaches out to catch one of your hands in one of his, squeezing it slightly. “Don't apologize, I’m more than willing to help, whatever it is.”

You give him an embarrassed smile. “Okay, so, it's a new apartment and I swear I keep hearing all these noises, and I know it’s childish but...would you come and take a look? Make sure there's nothing there?”

He's in love with you, fully, completely, unreservedly.

“Of course, y/n, I felt the same way when I moved in. The building is a bit older, there are lots of creaks and groans.”

He follows you to your apartment as he says this, and you look back at him in surprise. “You were scared?”

He chuckles sheepishly. “Actually, Gabi was, I just wanted to make you feel better.”

You smile and duck your head. “I appreciate the effort."

You hold the door open for him, then stand in your lit kitchen, your arms wrapped around yourself. Your bare thighs are exposed by the rising fabric of your sweatshirt, and he averts his eyes. 

He strangles his desire to sink to his knees and grip the soft flesh of your thighs, to wrench them apart and bury his face between them. To watch you come apart on his tongue as the sounds of your pleas and moans fill the air.

“I feel like I heard something near the balcony. You say, tearing him from his thoughts.

“I’ll go check.” He tells you, making his way towards your balcony, his senses on high alert even though he knows there's nothing.

It's an older building, Gabi was scared when they first moved in, that much is true. But there's nothing to be scared of, he's ensured that. In fact, this building, this block might be the safest in all of Nueva York.

Miguel throws open your balcony door and makes a show of checking every inch. He's rewarded by your soft laugh.

“All clear?” You take a half step forward, a smile playing at your lips, the lingering traces of sleep still gracing your expression.

“All clear. Anywhere else you want me to check?”

You nod towards your bedroom. “I swear I heard shuffling in my bathroom.”

He waits at your door, looking back at you. “Through here?”

You breeze past him and sit cross-legged on the edge of your bed. “The door on the left.”

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light. He's seen this room already, through your necklace, but standing there, on your plush, pastel purple bath mat, looking into your mirror, the mirror he's admired your bare body in, sends him into a tailspin.

“You see anything?” You call softly.

He shakes his head. “Nothing, no monsters lurking in between your towels.

“I didn't think there were monsters." You mumble, padding over to him, your scent hitting him like a freight train.

Has it always been this strong, or was it because he's in your home and everything around him screams y/n?

He inhales deeply, his fingers curling around the edge of your sink, his eyes closed as he fights to calm himself.

“Miguel? Are you okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.

He pulls you forward, pressing your back against the sink, his arms on either side caging you in.

You look up at him with an adorable expression of surprise, as if you hadn't seen his agility when he was disguised as Spiderman. “Miguel?”

He steels himself, even as he feels the plaster of your sink give beneath his fingers. He'll fix that later.

“Pancakes or French Toast?”

“I'm sorry?” You ask stunned.

“For breakfast, cariño, which would you prefer?” He forces the words out, prays they're smooth and unassuming.

You smile up at him, and he feels his stomach flip. It's a childish thing, for a small smile to affect him this way.

“Oh, pancakes please, and I can help you cook if you need.”

You're so sweet.

“No, no, mi vida, I'm cooking. All you need to do is keep me company.”

Your eyes follow the movement of his lips, and his nostrils flare when he smells the arousal wafting off you.

“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” You insist, palms resting against his chest.

He leans down and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “I'm sure, now goodnight y/n.”

Then he leaves you there and heads back to his apartment, his head spinning, your scent still lingering around him.

Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Beginnings...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Shared Moments

...

Your arrival to the academy came as a surprise to many, apparently you were some transfer from overseas. You'd show a shit ton of promise that they transferred you to Jujutsu in order to more efficiently reach your true potential. Rumor was it, you'd one day make it as a Special Grade. Even so, for now you remained a Grade One.

Your Japanese was decent at best and your adaptation to their customs was a work-in-progress but you held this certain charm that just drew people in. And no, I'm not talking about the kind of charm where everyone falls in love. No, it's the type of charm that makes people relax around you, makes them want to put their faith in you no matter how much to try to prevent that.

You could be a fresh of spring just as you could be a fresh of icy air, the kind that freezes up your lungs.

The first time you saw them, you were being shown around by your mentor --- a stoic expression written on your scarred face as you nodded at them. Briefly acknowledging them as you continued on your way.

Geto had figured your eyes as beautiful --- like an eternal flame hidden behind layers of stone wettened under a stream of a freshwater. Whilst Gojo had figured you a possible new victim for his pranks and teases. In fact, Gojo even had the nerve to interrupt your tour. Demanding to know your name. Shoko, who had been hanging about, was glad another girl had joined the academy. Afterall, it was getting rather stuffy with all the testosterone.

They knew you'd get well with the duo when the first thing you did was insult Gojo, although both him and Geto didn't really understand your insult. Actually, they didn't even know you insulted him until Shoko just started laughing out loud.

You called him a phospholipid??? The actual fuck is that

At that, you gave them a deadpanned stare, speaking in broken japanese that at the very least he should get educated because he was obviously missing a few brain cells

Now at this, both Shoko and Geto bent over laughing while Gojo stood there momentarily stunned before a sinister smirk adorned his lips. He went to insult you back but was quite literally by the sight of your hand in his face, "No time for idiot. Bye."

The absolute nerve on you!

Geto absolutely loved you since that day. On the other hand, it was a enemies to whatever with Gojo, which is ironic considering that he sought you out every moment of the day.

You and Shoko became the best of girl-friends. To be honest, the two of you were incredibly similar. The both of you were lazy as hell, smart as hell, and blunt as hell. Although, you seemed to have mastered the trick of honeying your harsh words so much so that people didn't even fight you on it.

To put their friendship into perspective, Shoko brought the cigarettes and you brought the lighter (despite you being a non-smoker. Once you tried to smoke but you didn't like the taste of it so you left it at that)

Although there was a time Gojo was being a nuisance so you grabbed a cigarette from Shoko's carton, lit it, and blew the smoke straight into his face when he wasn't expecting it

Watching him double-over choking was a grand sight indeed

You managed to make quite the number of friends while there, although many noticed how you kept a distance. I say this literally. You never let anyone come physically close to you, as though a simple graze from them would kill you or something. No-one dare question it consider that they also had their traumas that prevented them from certain indulgences. But sometimes, you'd make small exceptions. I think it's mainly of a "dont touch me but I'll touch you" situation.

Like you don't mind swiping dust off of Nanami's shoulder, or neatening Shoko's hair when it's gotten all frizzy due to the wind, or picking off lint off of Yaga's clothes.

But if you didn't initiate it, you'd go silently rigid.

During class, you like hanging around this one guy name Yu. Mainly because he knew a bit of your native language (surprising I know) and so, you felt safe enough to speak with him considering that you both spoke brokenly in either tongue. The only other person you felt safe enough to speak was Geto. He was actually the one that took it upon himself to teach you Japanese.

He'd recommend shows to watch and he'd watch with you so that he could explains certain customs and what-not of his culture. He found great amusement when a scene he knew you wouldn't understand played and you'd instantly pause the show to look at him with a questioning expression. It made you look rather cute in his eyes.

Gojo would often times crash during these hang-outs. Pestering you to learn his language quicker so that he can properly cuss you out (he says this while having an arm over you shoulder and leaning his full weight into your side. Surprisingly, you never said anything despite your reservations to touching.)

You chalked it up to wanting warmth.

Then came that point in your language-education where Geto wanted you to try speaking in a public setting and you just about cried right in front of him and Gojo. You gripped your fist so tight your nails drew blood, an action to prevent you from clinging onto Geto's clothes as he scolded Gojo for worsening your nerves. Gojo didn't stop laughing until he saw actual tears in your eyes.

With silent chuckles, Gojo took you by the shoulders and guided you over to some random corner store. You never once told him what your favorite snack was but somehow he knew to choose it before placing it in your hand. He told you exactly what you needed to say to the cashier with the exact amount of yen needed.

The both of them watched as you walked up to the cashier, briefly glancing over your shoulder to Gojo (still very much teary-eyed and rigid-body), who silently mouth the words again, before doing as he instructed.

After the whole ordeal, you surprised Gojo with an incredibly rare hug. I think at that moment, you truly managed to snake your way into his soul.

Geto stood to the side, a knowing smile on his lips as he watched you quickly let go. Shouting at Gojo that he owes you a sweet because of how brave you were, which should've annoyed him but only made you look endearing.

...

(A/N): Have yet to see Season 2 but those fucking beta fish tiktoks are murdering me right now with their symbolism.

Say, why don't you like being touched? What happened to you?

Where'd you get the scar?

And what's up with Geto's eternal flame comparison? So weird.

Drop a comment

Feel free to buy me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

Edited: 7/25/2023

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Hey man, yeah, that's really cool how you and a couple friends you made along the way helped break that giant that was being kept locked away in a government facility out of their restraints so that they could have the freedom to go home. No, sure, I bet it really was an epic adventure defined by friendships and risks and ended with complete success, it's just...

Do you maybe think the giant was locked up for a reason?

How many innocent people had to die during your escapade, or did they deserve it simply because they wore a little uniform? Do you know how many people had died previously in their attempts to first wrangle the giant, the constant bloodshed that very nearly overtook them before they could wrangle the monster? But, oh, you saw intelligence in its eyes, life in its soul, you could tell it wanted so badly to be free and away from these cruel treatments. Everyone else knew these things, too; your observation wasn't unique. In fact, its the fact it was clearly so smart that made it all the more dangerous.

It played you like a fiddle, didn't it? How can you be so certain that it regards you the same way, how can you be sure you even understand what its trying to convey and vice versa? What makes you think it views you as a friend, an ally, a surrogate, hell, a pet? You were nothing but a means to an end, a key to be discarded once all the locks had been open. You're worthless to it, just another tiny pest like the others. Do you really think it would be able to tell you apart from the other 8 billion people on this planet?

And now it's free. You let it out. You let it continue the rampage it was originally hellbent on. The environment destruction is unimaginable. The knowledge that such a thing exists is now being spread globally, along with the stories of destruction that accompany its wake. Suicides and family annihilation is through the roof because people are terrified of living in a world that will inevitably be razed, if its merciful. That blood is on your hands. Never mind once the giant is able to communicate to its real friends, its real family, its real companions, and bring them down for the slaughter and maximum efficiency. Are you hoping you'll be spared? Is that even a world you want to live in if you are?

Why do you think it came here in the first place? You think just because it left, it won't come back? You think that with all the brilliance it has, it's ignorant to the concept of revenge? You seem so sure that it's innocent, but you've never asked for an explanation about its purpose, just as the lambs never question why they're being led to pens rather than an open field today. What implication could it possibly have given that made you so certain it wasn't here with cruel intentions, or did you simply want to feel a moral superiority of freeing a caged animal and thinking it owed you gratitude?

Everyone told you it was dangerous and needed to stay confined, but you didn't listen. You thought you knew better. You thought you were so much smarter than the hundreds of other people working around the clock to ensure the safety of everyone outside the facility. You ruined so many lives, including that of the people closest to you. What, you thought you'd be able to walk away from this scot-free? That you weren't going to be immediately detained as well as your loved ones and labeled a national, actually global, terrorist and security threat? You broke in to a high clearance area and effectively doomed the world for destruction. For what, because you thought it looked a little cramped in that cell?

Are you not aware that your actions have consequences after the story ends?

[sonamytrash]

Trouble

Warnings: smut in later chapters, fem reader, swearing, suggestive themes. Not beta read. Reader is a vet/vet medic

Thank you for over 100 followers. Honestly, I only started writing fics for my own self-indulgence. I decided to share them with my fellow degenerates, and it seems that some of you like them, so here's the first small chapter to my new one. ❤️

‐---‐-----------------------------------------------------

Levi opens the door abruptly, making you jump. You pout at him playfully. "You scared me!" He narrows his eyes at you, "It's late," he says sternly. "What do you want?" He asks. You roll your eyes and walk into his office as he closes the door behind you both. Placing a pile of reports on his desk, you reply to his question, "The shitty reports you asked for that took me all evening." You complain. "And I know you never sleep, but shouldn't you be trying to get your three hours in?" You tease.

Levi smirks at your response. "Ah, yes. I did ask for those reports. Thank you." Taking a seat at his desk and giving a quick glance at the reports before looking back at you.

"And not right now." He places the reports aside and crosses his arms. "I have things to take care of that require my attention." His eyes then shift to you, "Speaking of attention, what else do you want?" His tone softening just a bit with a playful edge.

He respects your work. You are always efficient in what you do, which is why he often lets your tone and lack of respect towards him slide. Although you're not one of his direct subordinates, he still entertains more of your playful personality than he would tolerate from anyone else.

Truthfully, hiring a veterinary medic was one of Hanges more practical ideas. Having someone at the headquarters to provide and teach appropriate health care for the horses had saved a lot of money while costing very little to hire you. The overall survival rate of horses was much improved now that the soldiers knew better basic first aid, and the horses could return to headquarters for more appropriate treatment if they survived. Many of their losses weren't necessarily due to being directly crushed or eaten by Titans, but many surviving horses would die of injuries and infections upon the journey or arriving home. Your knowledge and skill had meant more horses were surviving out on the front lines and being able to recover when they returned. The cost of constantly replacing horses was drastically reduced. So even if he hadn't been on instructions to be on his best behaviour, what you brought to the regiment had genuinely earned his respect. Not only were you an intelligent woman, but you were downright infuriating. That sassy attitude, the playful humour you brought wherever you went and yet when necessary, you were stern, professional, and eloquent. It had made you popular amongst the regiment. And Levi wasn't immune. He really couldn't resist your charms. But God did he want to fuck that smart mouth of yours quiet sometimes.

Levi is taken from his thoughts when you reply, pouting. "You made such a big fucking deal about these reports that I've spent all evening making sure they were done, I would like to have had a hot bath and maybe read a book."

Levi rolls his eyes at your playful pout. "Well, since you are already here, you might as well stay and assist me with some paperwork," he says with a soft chuckle. He then proceeds to tidy his desk, placing the reports you brought in the correct pile and placing a smaller pile opposite him for you to work on.

"It shouldn't take too long and then you can go and have your well-deserved hot bath, princess." he adds with a smirk.

You bring your hand to your hips. "Either you're trying to torture me or just want an excuse to spend more time with me." You tease, taking a seat across from him. This kind of banter was the norm between the both of you, but he was much more receptive when it was behind closed doors.

A small smirk forms on Levi's lips, "You caught me," he replies sarcastically before he continues reading and signing paperwork.

You too glance over some of the papers and organise them into appropriate piles for him, "Busy day?" You ask, trying to spark some conversation.

"Just the usual," Levi says, his voice monotone as he signs the paperwork. "Paperwork, training, and keeping the brats in check." He pauses for a moment before looking back up at you. "Speaking of training, we'll have to arrange for another session soon." You grimace at his words. He insisted on the occasional sparring session to keep your self-defence up to scratch. "I'm not a fighter, levi. You beat the shit out of me every time, and even then, I know you're going soft on me." You groan playfully, "Literally everyone comes to watch me get beaten up." While you felt like he was trying to make your life difficult with these training sessions, it actually came from a place of care. He wanted you to be able to defend yourself.

Levi leans back in his seat, "You know I only do it to make you stronger," he says with a small grin. "And as for the spectators, what can I do? You're quite popular among the ranks." He then pauses for a moment before adding, "But I can always arrange for a more private session if that's what you prefer." His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. A flirtatious exchange wasn't uncommon for the two of you, but how you fucking wished he would make good on the things he said.

You were instantly drawn to his suggestion and change in demeanour. "Oh yeah? And do you often give people private training sessions?" You say raising an eyebrow.

Levi chuckles softly, "You know I don't," he replies, his expression softening just a bit. "But for you, I can make an exception." He then shifts his gaze to the paperwork in front of him, pushing aside the distracting thoughts. "Anyway, you're distracting me," he says, beginning to sift through the papers again. But it's too late, your interest has been piqued, "Maybe that's not such a bad idea. What would we be working on during those sessions?" You ask, wanting to keep pressing the new suggestion.

Levi gives you a small, subtle smirk. "Hmm, we could work on whatever you feel you need improvement on," he says. "Maybe your form or your speed," he suggests. Almost throwing you into thinking you had misinterpreted his earlier tone. Before he follows up with a hint of mischief, "But whatever we work on, you can be sure that I'll push you to your limits."

You smirk in response, "Who knows, captain, maybe I'll push you to yours."

Levi smirks at your flirtatious comment and arches an eyebrow in amusement, "Is that so?" he replies in a teasing tone, his smirk widening. "I highly doubt that." He then leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "But I won't deny that I would enjoy the challenge." You mimic his movements, leaning forward in response, and meeting his gaze, "Oh I'm sure you would."

Levi's eyes linger on yours for a moment, studying your playful expression. "You're trouble," he says in a low voice before leaning back in his seat. "But I have to admit, I rather enjoy it." He then picks up a pen and begins scribbling on the papers in front of him, his mind wandering as he tries to suppress the arousal between his legs, relieved there's a desk inbetween the two of you.

"So I've been told," you reply playfully, finishing up the last of the papers he gave you to organise, giving you both a few moments of silence before you speak up again. "Do you think your private training session with a troublesome girl like me would whip me into shape?" You ask him seductively, being determined to see how far you can push him, having taken note of the tensing of his shoulders and how he occasionally bites his lip.

Levi finishes his scribbling, taking a deep breath as he places the pen he's gripping down before looking up at you. "Not a chance," he replies, his tone firm but playful. "But perhaps it would tire you out enough to be a good girl for at least a little while," he adds with a smirk of his own.

[novankenn]

Jaune Arc of Orleans

An Uncomfortable Journey

Seriously?" Jaune whined as he held a device of pure malice and dread in his hands. It was an amalgamation of plastics, metal and circuitry.

"Listen kid." the stubbly, grimy and partially drunk man accompanying him spoke. "You wanted to go to Beacon..."

"I NEED to go to Beacon!" Jaune snapped at Qrow. "I NEED to!"

"Okay, okay, take it down a notch." Qrow lifted his hands in a pacifying motion. "YOU need to be at Beacon and the only way your scary as fuck mom would let that happen is if ONE I escort you there myself. TWO I swear on my life that you will remain physically safe and unharmed."

Qrow took a swig from his flask before continuing.

"THREE that I guarantee that as she put it, some loose legged hussy didn't get her hands on you..." Qrow grumbled, "and FOUR that I make sure when we are not in our private quarters that you wear a chastity belt to preserve your virtue for your future wife."

"This is stupid!" Jaune shouted as he threw the abomination ineffectually against the wall of their cabin. "Girls don't..."

"Exactly. Girls don't, and to be honest most guys don't either... you however are... special."

"Yeah special." Jaune grumbled as he dropped his ass onto the second of the two narrow beds that lined the walls of the private cabin. "So special that I'm being auctioned off to the highest bidder as a husband."

"Jaune I'm sorry that you're in this situation. I am." Qrow offered, "But you are not so stupid to not understand what is going on. You're a male from a reputable and distinguished family."

"I know, and of course that fact that Orleans is not only sitting on massive light dust deposit as well as the largest and most accessible Mutable Dust deposit on Remnant."

"Yeah, both of which your family has controlling interest in."

"But not the capital resources to engage in efficient and full scale mining operations."

"I knew you were smart kid."

"Doesn't change anything." Jaune snapped.

"Didn't say it did." Qrow replied. "Now if you don't have anything else but complaints I suggest we both take this chance and have a nap."

"And if I don't feel like it and want to explore?"

"Put on the belt, and have at it." Qrow had to suppress a chuckle at the sudden downtrodden look that crossed the young man's boyish features. "You know I'll unlock it as soon as you get back."

"I still hate it." Jaune grumbled.

"Then have a nap, or read something on your scroll. Play a game, or pray." Qrow suggested, "Just DO NOT leave this room without that belt on, or your mom will skin and tan both our asses. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah." Jaune muttered as he climbed fully on to his bunk and rolled over his back facing Qrow who was lounging on his own bunk. Qrow remained flat on his back, his head tilted just enough that he could keep an eye on his travelling companion.

Qrow understood Jaune's frustrations. But there wasn't much that he could do to ease them. That damnable plague had forever changed the ratio of male to female... in the favor of females. Which did provide some plentiful opportunities for the more adventurous men of the world. But for those males born into more affluent or traditionalist leaning families, it was a suffocating weight upon their shoulders.

Being male was almost a curse. Your options for employment, schooling, recreation were severely limited by politicians, doctors and officials intent on keeping what remained of the those human and faunus that bore the XY chromosomes.

Qrow was an outlier. HIs skills, temperament and semblance making him much more suited for a role that for the last century and a half was a female dominated occupation. Yet as he watched his young charge, slowly succumb to sleep, Qrow thought that Jaune could be an outlier like himself. That thought caused the often drunken man to sigh, and silently hope that he was mistaken.

==> Table of Contents <==

Mutable Dust = A rare gray coloured dust that when mixed with other dusts takes on the properties of said dust. The ration is 30/70, so if 6 kilos of pure fire dust is cut with 2 kilos of mutable dust you in fact now have the equivalent of 8 kilos of pure fire dust.

[yourhighness6]

NATLA Debrief: Episode 3 (by yours truly)

Hi again! If any of ya'll are interested here's episodes 1 and 2. Thank you to those who have been following these deranged, unorganized posts, especially @phoebester (Just an fyi this will be hella long, just like the other two)

First of all, the way they framed the opening resistence scene was genuinely so cool because I immediately thought back to the cold open for the first episode. The streets are so similar that's where my mind went RIGHT AWAY and if that is not good set design and filming I don't know what is.

The resistance scene was so powerful for so many reasons besides those small details, too. The concept of a resistance within the FN was never addressed at all within the cartoon and I can't express how glad I am that they added this. It just makes logical sense that some people would resist, especially while so many are dying in war, and it really serves to humanize the FN people in a way that's reminiscent of book 3 ATLA. Perfect way to expand on the source material and introduce core themes earlier in the show (M Nite should be taking notes).

It was also a perfect way to introduce both Ozai and Azula's characters. Ozai is this menacing figure stepping out of the shadows (quite literally), an almost larger than life villain who seems to have every move planned and everything calculated. He's brutal and efficient and we can see that. Azula is conniving and smart, the kind of girl who can fool anyone and come out on top, but is ultimately still a weapon under her father's control. You can tell from the moment Ozai mentions Zuko that she is the underdog, but she is determined that it will not stay that way, and she seems just terrifying enough to succeed. (also idc what anyone says Elizabeth Yu has mastered Azula's look and general vibe. I feel like the whole 'miscasting' debacle was a mix of fatphobia and being shown the wrong stills before the show came out. She looked sort of sweet and innocent in those but I get absolutely none of that from this scene)

Ugh the exposition was great and then they have to give us this. What the absolute hell did they do to my Katara? Like there was a whole ass episode in the cartoon devoted to her getting mad because she wasn't progressing as fast as Aang and then in this fucking adaptation the maddest she sounds is when she emotionlessly declares, "I don't get it" to convey mild frustration. I'm sorry Kiawentiio, you're acting is great but the writers clearly have no fucking idea how to put your emotional range to good use. The same problem was present in the last episode and I just don't see them being able to fix it significantly enough at this point, even if they have a desire to. Not to undermine that, but there were a couple good points in this scene: Aang mentions something about bending being "beyond thought" which gives bending a more spiritual aspect that I like, and Katara's PTSD is brought up again in an intelligent way, but still, that doesn't matter if they're going to completely butcher her character. (side note: when is Aang going to learn waterbending? they haven't shown him training at all and I'm getting worried)

This scene was fine or whatever but what in the absolute fuck is going on with Zuko and Zhao? Are they not going to do the agni kai? Like I know there's still animosity there but they were really just sitting there (semi)-calmly enjoying a cup of tea and demonstrating only mild dislike for each other. All I have to say is if they remove the agni kai altogether I'm gonna be so fucking pissed it'll bug me forever and I'll be fucking insufferable.

Also Zuko is so mean to Luitenient Jee for no reason. I know it's because his abuse makes him see any kind of comradery as weakness so it's a good detail if that's what they're going for but ngl I also find it a bit funny. Like what did he ever do to you? And Zhao taking three tries to pass his officer exam is so perfect too like what a fucking looser lmao.

Ba Sing Se looks beautiful. There's something so mystical about it, especially in the way Aang describes it as they walk up to the gate. It's this hub of culture and science and art, but it's also incredibly militaristic and so changed due to war it's almost unrecognizable to someone who was there a hundred years ago. The adaptation of cultures during times of change is something ATLA does so well and I'm glad to see that it's continuing in the LA.

AHH Katara was so awkward during this whole scene and I loved it. For one thing Sokka's commentary was absolutely hilarious but it's also this reminder that Katara has been relatively isolated from other children her age and her brain is like "cute boy flirt how" and its so fucking funny. It might not be the same Katara as the cartoon who is effortlessly comfortable wherever she goes but this is so much more realistic and if she's going to be a bit different this is probably the best thing for them to change (now keep the awkwardness and give her back her anger Netflix I'm begging you)

I am slightly concerned because it looks to me like they're trying to condense at least four episodes into one and I'm not sure if that's going to be a cohesive plotline or a complete mess or not but if handled carefully I think they might be able to pull it off.

Ooooh the explosion was super unexpected and totally cray cray thanks for keeping me on my toes. I'm assuming it was Jet that planted the bomb although I cannot for the life of me think why. Anyways Teo was adorable I'm adopting him.

Also I am so so so happy that they gave him a little more depth beyond just 'happy glider kid' and gave a bit more nuance to his character. Of COURSE kids who grew up in war are going to be desensitized to the bloodshed OF COURSE they're going to be a little vengeful and be thinking about ways to win the war OF COURSE Aang is going to be uncomfortable with that because he didn't grow up with that militaristic mindset even if he did loose everything OF COURSE that's not going to change the fact that kids grow up hearing about death and experiencing loss as extremely young children versus Aang being suddenly thrust into this responsibility and grief because he didn't grow up like that he grew up in peacetime it just makes sense. Good job Netflix this was wonderful this was perfect I loved it.

Okay don't get me wrong I love the way Aang wears his heart on his sleeve I love how their in-the-face storytelling makes a bit more sense with how open and emotional of a person he is it's just part of his character that was improved upon by the LA in my opinion but this is also just... such a misunderstanding of the group dynamic. Like why isn't Katara seeing these people and thinking "I can help with this I have to help with this" and Aang giving this speech to Sokka jumping on the bandwagon? I would even accept them seeing the destruction together and mutually deciding that they need to help the people there (this would probably be best as it allows us to see both character's compassion) or Aang saying something about it and Katara immediately being like "ur absolutely right" but of course they can't do that all we need is a lengthy speech from the protagonist while Katara stands there like robot girl. My mistake.

STOP because her mocking face is so fucking perfect I love Elizabeth Yu she's perfect. Anyway, I think that they're kind of... adjusting her trauma a bit? I mentioned earlier how I feel like she's shown as a little more scrappy and an underdog as opposed to perfectly calculating and not a hair out of place, but after this scene I feel the need to expand on that. In the cartoon, Azula's abuse from her father centers around his unattainably high expectations for her that eventually cause her ultimate breakdown and the conclusion to her devastating character arc. But in the LA, they're portraying her as less of a prodigy and more of a hard worker. She still has incredibly high expectations, but in this version, she never meets them all the time. Her brother is almost leveraged against her in a way. Even if she feels like she is the best and has the constant need to prove she is the best to her father, there's always going to be this nagging insecurity that she won't be good enough to measure up to her brother. She's not being told she's worthless like Zuko, but she's not reaching every goal like cartoon Azula, either. This also might explain why she has arrows. In the cartoon, weapons are viewed with disdain by firebenders, making Zuko using them so controversial, but Azula definetely doesn't seem to be hiding her talent for the bow and arrow and even if it was a her-sneaking-away-to-practice sort of situation that's not very in character and I don't think she would do that. I think in this version she probably has them because she's trying to find every possible way to prove herself to her father beyond just firebending, and mastering a weapon is a way to do that. I'm not sure how I feel about these changes but she is clearly a different character in this version than in the cartoon and moving forward I'm going to treat her as such. (I've noticed this a bit with all of the characters except possibly Sokka: they're different people. I think this actually might be intentional. [even so I still don't like their characterization of Katara her trauma hasn't changed very much to my knowledge she should still have the same core drives and character traits])

As well done as Azula was, there was relatively nothing in the Ty Lee and Mai department. They're just kind of existing, watching her train. Ty Lee is vaguely cheerful (and her costume is great btw) and Mai has one line about exploring the world that gives a bit of insight into her character and has a monotone voice. They're both clearly a little scared of Azula but that's basically it. Hopefully we get more on them soon.

Back in Ba Sing Se, I noticed a bit of a parallel between Teo and Katara. The Mechanist mentions that they lost his mother due to the war, which reminded me specifically of Katara. Throughout this scene, we see that Teo remembers his mother's philosophy and adopts it into his own mindset far more than his father's. Their situation is different because while Katara is arguing for compassion Teo is arguing for fighting back, but they are both fundamentally saying the same thing. It's not enough just to accept their lot in life and try to survive or fight, it's about the big picture, and about defending the things they love. While Katara and Teo both approach this subject from a very different front, the core idea is the same. It's also telling how they are dismissed initially as idealistic for their values when they are really upholding what their mothers stood for in their eyes: for Teo, a symbol of hope in her retellings of the stories of the avatar, and for Katara, a symbol of kindness in her reminders to remain empathetic despite the horrors of war. Make of this what you will, I just thought it was a nice little parallel.

Anyway, allow me to have a few words on the whole Jet thing (in bullet points because I don't have enough brain power to do this)

I'm glad Jet got his freedom fighters outfit. I was a bit worried when I saw what he was wearing in the first scene he was in because the fit is iconic, and so are the swords

God he's so fucking dramatic "they call me Jet" while the sun glints off his swords and he turns slightly for affect it was so funny I laughed out loud

He and Kia have no on-screen chemistry I'm sorry. Like even the fight scene was so awkward and every time they speak to each other they sound so stiff. They're good actors independently but whoever was watching their chemistry check (I'm assuming they had one pre-production but judging by this crap I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't) was either asleep or it was their first day because there is NOTHING there

What the hell did they do to the Freedom Fighters? They're so cheesy and the costumes are so bad (especially Smellerbee's). Like seriously that entire fight scene was so awkward idk what the hell happened there but it was nowhere near the quality of the rest of the episode so far

Overall, I'm not a huge fan. Also where is Sokka I'm pretty sure he's supposed to be there somewhere

Okay here's Sokka finally. Are they just taking him out of the Jet shenanigans entirely? I wouldn't be surprised considering how many episodes they had to condense but still I would have liked to see that. Oh well, I guess they had to have Katara do something in this episode instead of just stand around while her brother and Aang have huge plot points. Anyway, this scene was very interesting to me. Sokka and the Mechanist bonded in the og but not to this extent, and I honestly liked that they did something a bit deeper with it considering they don't have as much screentime to establish Sokka's daddy issues (for lack of a better word). Anywho the Mechanist mentioning that there are other career paths to take besides just being a warrior was super cool and I think we can glean a lot from it about Sokka's future character arc. Maybe in this version he doesn't perfectly live up to his dad's expectations and instead finds his own way? It was nice to see Hakoda proud of him in the original but if they go down this path I definitely won't be mad. It's interesting while staying true to the character, it's just a different direction.

The scene with Aang and Teo was cute. They're both good actors who play off of each other nicely, and Teo talking about how he doesn't want to follow in his father's footsteps lends a bit of insight to the conversation the Mechanist had with Sokka. He probably mentioned Sokka's dad because he wondered if his parents were engineers too and maybe is looking for a bit of an apprentice since his son doesn't take after him as much. This is also another way Teo conflicts with the Mechanist's way of life and may be more similar to his mother.

The jetara scenes at the Freedom Fighter camp had a much better dynamic. I think the fight scene was probably just them figuring each other out as actors, it just sucks that it seeped into the final take. I confess I was a bit disappointed that the Freedom Fighters didn't live up in the trees, but I guess that would be a bit difficult to engineer. I also noticed how Jet repeated Teo's "if not us, then who?" statement, which is probably just your basic commentary on how the future generations are our hope blah blah blah. It's a major theme so I shouldn't be as disinterested as I am in it but as it stands I'm still not totally thrilled with the Jet plotline as a whole and I think that may be affecting it. I feel like Sokka should be here to add some variety and spice things up a bit it's kind of boring.

The last jetara scene was definitely the best yet. I can't get over how happy I was to hear Jet say his mother taught him to fight. So often we hear how dads or older brothers are teaching the women in their family to fight but here we have a canonically badass male character saying that an older female relative was the one who taught him. One of the major complaints I have from the cartoon was how for all its talk about women being able to fight and its supposed feminist message, there were no women of the older generation fighting at all except for Jun, who wasn't even a particularly moral character like all these older men. We do have to remember that the cartoon started production over twenty years ago so it is a product of its time, when feminist issues weren't very mainstream. Another factor that might have contributed to the lack of feminism in the original was the generational discrepancies; millennials were the first to have widely accepted equal educational opportunities in the US, and even though educational opportunities are still affected by sexism, college became the norm for both male and female students at that time. This isn't to say women older than millennials didn't go to college, but this is around the time women and men started to become relatively equal as of percentage seeking higher education. Basically, they were the first generation of women expected to have careers, and therefore the writer's minds were probably shaped alongside a similar number of female peers, but primarily by men. This could have contributed to the lack of older women, but as times changed, so to did the amount of older women in professional fields. This line is a reflection of that, and I hope we continue to see more badass older women and older warrior women and women in power as the LA continues.

Other than that, I did take my shipping goggles out during this scene at the "sunrise" bit, and it wasn't about jetara. I heard from other fans in the zutara tag that the "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" line was removed but I keep thinking about how Katara is legitimately drawing power from remembering the sun rising, a time when the opposite element, Zuko's element, becomes more powerful. I know I'm reaching, but while I mourn the loss of our beloved "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" I have to find a new version. Anyway I think we should call this sunrisegate lol

Also, the way Katara is extremely hesitant to talk about her trauma whereas Jet seems completely fine with being emotional and dumping out exactly what he was feeling may have been a device but it does remind me of something I read about how ppl with PTSD will often react very differently when sharing their trauma and the same is true for many other trauma induced disorders. It was probably unintentional but I still thought it was a nice detail.

Anyway on a less serious note Iroh and Zuko's dynamic is still top tier. I've seen a lot of people complaining about Iroh's character but I don't see anything wrong up to this point. I might be in for a shock in future episodes but I have genuinely no idea what they find so off putting. He's a great actor and the character has legitimately not changed. The line above was a bit undercut by the fact that he's standing in the middle of an enemy city with a cloth half wrapped around his face to keep part of his face from being seen, but I'm just gonna take it at face value (haha pun). I think the thing Zuko despises most is cowardice, and it affects his perception of the war in a huge way. He calls Aang a coward for escaping from prison because he was running away or whatever and I've never considered Zuko a particularly logical character but it's like... bruh he's outnumbered like fifty to one what he is gonna do? Anyway his definition of cowardice is directly tied to his honor and his perception of it in relation to his trauma and the way he held back in the agni kai and him perceiving that as cowardice maybe... Ya'll got me? This isn't fully formed because I obviously haven't seen this new rendition of the agni kai but I'm guessing the events are basically the same. Do with it what you will.

I skipped over the Azula and Zhao scene because I don't have any groundbreaking commentary except to say that I liked it. It ties Azula into the story nicely and gives Zhao something actually interesting about him (I don't hate him as much as I did in the cartoon so whenever he comes up on screen I just sort of yawn).

Anyway, it was nice to see Katara get a bit angry. I think this captured the gaang dynamic pretty well. Aang being relatively neutral/ quiet while the siblings argue and Katara gets twice as mad as Sokka. Also he may have had the last word but she had the last laugh:

Again, the sibling dynamic was really great but I didn't feel like Katara was carrying it as much as in previous episodes. Sokka actually played his part in making it interesting and realistic. I don't think this single argument is enough to redeem Katara's characterization in my eyes but at least we know now there is a little spark there.

AHH THE SCARF SCENE! Scarfgate was everything I could have asked for and more. Like why does he appear directly behind her like that unless he's trying to fight her? Why does he just let her go by like that? Why does he hold out his hand in the first place? Truly is the Watergate of our time it deserves that name. (also in the same episode as the whole sunrise thing? come on) I'm probably being baited but at least I'm enjoying it.

So I was right about the bombings! I can't believe all those cute little kids are terrorists but I couldn't believe it in the cartoon either so I guess that checks out. Either way I find the bombing far less forgivable than trying to take out the Mechanist. Innocent civilians were hurt and even though I know there was a real possibility that civilians could have been hurt in the attempted bombing for whatever reason it just seems... more brutal somehow. Like the first one was in the center of town, you know? Anyway terrorism is wrong I hope Jet finds his way.

(I was worried about how they were going to tie all the seemingly unrelated plotlines together but I think they pulled it off. Again my main problems were all concentrated around the Jet plotline but when the Mechanist was tied in it became a lot more interesting)

When I heard this I was like "son ur about to get ur ass kicked" but the funny part is he was kind of right. Like when neither of them were bending he was winning. I guess in all fairness he is a lot bigger than Aang but I don't feel like that was an accidental detail. Anyway, I think this fight scene was the most entertaining yet and so much better than jetara against the firebenders earlier. Maybe the affects for water are just worse than air and fire (it feels slower somehow) but I'm very partial to this fight. And that's saying something because I usually fast-forward through fight scenes or just kind of tune them out or barely watch, so you know it was really good.

I think the reason I liked it so much was that it was funny, honestly, not in the same way or to the same degree the cartoon was but I laughed out loud a couple times. For instance Zuko gets hit in the face three times in the span of ten seconds, once with a plate, once with a wicker basket, and once with his own little stick thing. Aang also put a basket over his head and some random ass lady started whacking him with a fan. Kudos to whoever choreographed that it was the best.

Also I liked how Sokka and Katara saved the day together. Cute sibling bonding excersize. And it ended on a cliffhanger with the characters separated! My favorite kind of cliffhanger! It definitely left me wanting more.

Anyway, to recap, things I didn't like:

No Zuko and Zhao agni kai

Mai and Ty Lee were just sort of there

Katara's characterization is still so-so

Jetara plot line was boring and chemistry was not the best

It was kind of a lot for one episode, even if they managed to do it well

Things I did like:

Opening scene

Azula characterization

Teo

The Mechanist plotline

Teo and Katara parallel

Katara DID actually seem a little bit more firey in this episode

SCARFGATE

Zuko and Aang fight scene

Surprisingly good handling of all those loose ends

Cliffhanger

Overall, I would give it a 9/10. That's the highest score I've given an episode so far and I'm standing by it. I know others might have a very different opinion on it since it was condensed so much and differed a lot from the cartoon, but I agreed with many of the changes they made. One thing I would urge everyone to remember is that these are different characters from the cartoon. They're going to act slightly different and have slightly different journys and that's okay. I think it is worth comparing to the original, as it is an adaptation, but we need to remember that an adaptation is not an exact replica, nor should it be. That in no way means that we should make allowances for anything we found negative or mediocre, but it is going to be different and change in it of itself isn't a bad thing. Anyway thank you guys so much for sticking with me! I'll probably have the next episode's debrief up by tomorrow.

[morganwrites12672]

I know where my spleen is!

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Vampire hunting is a bitch.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/Tags: canon typical violence, language, established relationship, set while Sam's at Stanford, etc.

A/N: This took forever. Hope you enjoy it!

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Vampire hunting is definitely not something anyone enjoys. It's always bloody and quite painful. The bloodsuckers really do know how to pack a punch. Some hunters enjoyed them for the thrill though.

She wasn't one of those people.

Vampires were definitely her least favorite supernatural being to hunt down. After her parents brutal murder by a group of vampires whenever she had only been sixteen, she had hated the stupid bloodsuckers.

Her parents death was always a reminder to be careful. So, she was. She killed the vampires with efficiency. She never took the bait on their taunts. She got the job done, safely. Sure, she did get wounded sometimes. Never anything horrible though.

It made the current hunt even more difficult. Being around vampires always made her uneasy. She would gank werewolves and pissed off spirits all day no worries. Vampires were the one thing that could get under her skin. She didn't like having weaknesses.

The car coming to a stop a few dozen yards away from the abandoned garage where a group of vampires were staying made her snap out of her thoughts. The drive had flown by. She looked around. The landscape was bland.

It was practically a forest. Tall trees surrounded the small clearing were the garage was. A few dozen old cars were scattered on the lot. Overall, nothing interesting or worth a second look. She did make a mental note of how easy it would be for the vampires to hide from them.

She scanned the surrounding area a bit more carefully. She needed to be extra careful. Vampires were smart creatures.

"You ready?" Dean asked, breaking the silence. He had never had any problems hunting vampires.

"Yeah," She replied before quietly exiting the car. Dean knew. He knew every little detail of that night. She had confessed it all to him after a few too many beers. Dean knew better than to mention it though.

The two were silent as Dean popped open the trunk. They both grabbed their machetes, along with a syringe of Dead Mans Blood. The various weapons hidden in the trunk of Baby gleamed in the sunlight.

She wore dark clothes today. Vampire hunts were never anything short of bloody and brutal. She didn't have the time to spend scrubbing blood out of something light colored.

Staring at the building was a nasty reminder of what was inside. God, vampires were horrible. She had always hated them. Hunting them made a sense of unease coil in her stomach.

Dean shut the trunk softly, careful not to wake the vampires sleeping inside of the no long abandoned garage. Sunlight gleamed off of his machete as he slid it into the holster on his thigh.

The two silent walked to the large building. It was a small nest of vamps. Only four in total. Well, only four that they knew about. The duo had spent days watching this nest. But, they both knew to always expect an extra vampire. It was better to be overly cautious then dead.

She peered in through a window. All of the vampires were fast asleep. Seeing them like this made a ball of anxiety form in her stomach. Seeing vampires was something she hated. She regretted insisting on this hunt. Trying to save her fears was always a bad idea. Every single time she did it, it hurt like hell.

She nodded to Dean and walked back to the front door. She raised her machete, just in case. You never know with vampires.

Dean opened the front door. She followed him inside. Vampires were lounging about, all fast asleep. Vampires were one of the few beings who they had to attack during the day. It put the creatures at a disadvantage.

With the sunlight burning them, vampires avoided the daylight and slept during the day. Attacking them during the day was the easiest option. It was still difficult regardless.

She looked around the room once more. Dean was creeping towards one sleeping vampire. She picked one and studied it's sleeping face for a moment. She wondered if this vampire had always been so. . . horrible. It had been human once. She pushed the thought from her mind.

She positioned herself with the machete ready to execute a vamp. Dean did the same. They exchanged a quick glance, making sure they were both ready.

Her blade sliced through the vampires neck effortlessly. The gurgling sound of blood woke up the remaining two vampires. She raised her machete at one, ready to strike.

"You bitch!" The vampire snarled.

The vampire hissed at her, baring it's mouthful of razor sharp teeth, before lunging. It grabbed her machete by the blade. The blade was knocked away. That would be a problem for her.

The vampire landed a solid punch to her jaw, knocking her head back. As she stumbled back, the vampire struck again. This time the snarling female kicked her in the stomach. She groaned as she hit the ground.

She didn't think twice before aiming a kick for the vampires knee. It worked. The vampire was now on the ground with her. She jumped to her feet, running to her machete. She didn't get far before the vampire fucking tackled her. God, she hated vampires.

They were bloodthirsty bitches.

Seeing the vampire on top of her, teeth bared, made her wonder what her parents finally moments had been like. The thought briefly distracted her. Their screams replayed in her head. By time she had gotten downstairs, everyone had been dead. Her parents, and the vampire. A hunter had barely saved her life.

The distraction was everything the vampire had needed. The beast above her drank in her fear before striking.

The vampires teeth ripped through the flesh of her arm and she let out a piercing scream. The vampire was satisfied as it sat up, a cruel smirk plastering it's face. She used this to her opportunity, reaching for her machete. She was able to grab the blade.

She swung it, barely paying attention. The pain was blinding. She could feel her blood oozing out and dripping down her arm. The blade buried itself in the vampires shoulder. She didn't have much time before the vampire would rip it out and go back to trying to kill her.

She was about to attempt shoving the vampire off whenever it's head fell onto the ground next to her. Dean pushed the limp body off of her and helped her stand. He pressed a piece of cloth to the wound on her arm.

"Son of a bitch," He muttered. His face was splattered in blood, she hoped it wasn't his. He looked mostly unharmed. He had probably killed the vampire he had been dealing with and then rushed to help her. It made her feel a bit pathetic.

She wasn't usually like this and Dean knew it. Usually, she could handle anything. From Ghouls to werewolves. She got the job done. She did sustain the occasional injury but it was never anything all that serious.

"I'm barely even bleeding," She replied. Her voice came out as more of a pained groan and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Barely?" Dean replied as he kept pressure on the wound. "You look like you're going to pass out," Dean deadpanned as the two walked to the Impala parked outside.

Everything that happened between getting into the car and arriving at the motel was a blur. The next clear memory she could recall was of Dean yelling something at the motel.

She was sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, leaning against the wall. She had her hands pressed to the bleeding wound. Her long sleeve shirt was gone, Dean had probably helped her take it off. The tank top she was left in was bloody. She grimaced.

Her eyes felt heavy. Sleep was calling her. It sounded so peaceful. She would close her eyes only for a moment. Only-

"Don't you fucking think about it!" Dean yelled, suddenly kneeling in front of her. He lightly slapped her cheek, "You gotta stay awake for me. Keep those pretty eyes open."

She was barely able to stop the fluttering of her eyelids. The sharp sting of alcohol being poured over her wound made her let out a his of pain. Dean held her arm, preventing her from moving it.

"Sweetheart, I need you to stay still for me," Dean said as he wiped the skin around the wound. He needed to get more of the blood cleanse off so he could see how bad the wound truly was.

She looked down. It looked. . . nasty. Her flesh had been ripped open by that god-damn vampire. The jagged skin would be difficult to stitch. She focused on Dean instead. His eyebrows were furrowed as he carefully cleaned the wound for her.

"Did you take on any damage?" She asked. Talking would help her fend off sleep for a little longer. She just had to keep her eyes open. Easier said then done.

"I think my spleen is bruised," He replied. There was a dark bruise on his abdomen. It was hidden from her view by his t-shirt.

"You don't know where your spleen is," She retorted with a smile.

"I know where my spleen is! I'm not an idiot," Dean grumbled, saying the last sentence in more of a whisper. Hearing her make smart remarks at him was reassuring in an odd way. He knew it meant she would be alright. She had enough energy to argue back.

He didn't give her a warning as he suddenly pushed the needle through her skin. She mumbled several rather colorful curse words at the action. Dean held her arm firmly. She wouldn't screw up her stitches easily.

"You're doing great for me," Dean said in a more gentle voice. "I'm almost done." He felt bad about the last sentence. It was a lie. He had barely finished one stitch. She would need several more.

He handed her the bottle of alcohol that he had used to sterilize her wound. As she took a swig, he pushed the needle through again. The small distraction made her barely notice the pain.

Dean carefully stitched her wound, occasionally murmuring words of encouragement and reminders to keep her eyes open. After what felt like ages, he stood and washed the blood - her blood - off his hands. Once his hands were clean and dry, he picked up the roll of bandages.

She stood and instantly almost face planted. Dean grabbed her by the waist to steady her. She was woozy from the blood loss and the cheap tequila she had drank.

"i don't need you cracking your head open on the bathroom floor," Dean said in a joking tone. He wrapped her wound up quickly before practically carrying her out of the bathroom. He helped her strip out of her bloodied clothes.

Seeing the already forming bruises on her body made him feel guilty. He knew how hunting vampires impacted her. She lost her focus and got sloppy sometimes. He had tried to convince her not to take this hunt. She had been rather persistent though.

Once she got something on her mind no one could change it. Her stubbornness was something Dean loved about her.

He set her on the bed before returning with a wet washcloth. He didn't even want to try helping her shower, not when she was this out of it. Instead, he wiped away the blood. He gently cleaned off her skin. She was exhausted and only half conscious.

"I'm almost done, then you can fall asleep." He was so much softer with her than anyone else. He trusted her more than anyone else. After Sam had ran away to Stanford, he had been left alone with his father. It was a betrayal.

She had been there for him. They had met years ago while hunting the same spirit. The two had fought like dogs at first. But, years later, they had become closer than they could have ever imagined.

Their relationship had been unexpected to say the least. The two had barely tolerated each other for the longest time. One day, it was like a switch clicked. They both started developing crushes. Their banter turned more flirty. Until, after a drunken hookup, they decided maybe they did like each other.

"Thank you," She yawned as Dean stepped away. Dean said something in reply, but she didn't catch it. Her eyes were already closed. The pain didn't exist in her dreams. She was able to slip away from it, if only for a few hours.

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A/N: Don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed it! And, my requests are open.

[sincerely-sofie]

It's really funny that the PMD fandom has just collectively decided to despise ACT because, yeah, they really should've known better actually

If only they had a real bossfight so I could actually go and clobber them myself

I sympathized with them for a good while— they're members of a rescue team, and their job is to maintain the peace, yadda yadda yadda, they're like community superheroes and were led astray by the hope they could save the world by killing one or two people... But their demeanor during the confrontation with them just destroyed my ability to give them any sympathy.

Alakazam in particular is supposedly so smart, yet he fell for a lie from a known liar and mischief-maker. One could argue he wasn't giving his all during the fight that results in Ninetales' appearance, and that it was an act (pun intended) to lure her out to confirm or deny the legend's existence. But he seems genuinely shocked to see her appear, and also seems surprised to hear the legend isn't true, which burns up that theory very efficiently. His vague apology before the fight rings very hollow and seems more of an attempt to save face / assuage a guilty conscience.

Also, Charizard's line here, said to a duo of seeming teenagers, eradicated any reluctance I had to hate this team.

Sir, those are 1-foot tall babeys that you're so thrilled to fight.