#she’s wearing ricks suit jacket I think :))

[olgunny]

i’m posting spoilers

wahhhhhh

[8bitscarlet]

Winter Solstice

Summary: When the sun was taken without notice, your world was plunged into a darkness you almost didn't recognize. But as you sunk deeper into the shadows, you remembered why you'd given it up.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst (mention of blood, canon fighting, use of knife, mention of torture)

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: AOU Wanda here because there's no Wanda in this story, since you know ehehe. Here’s chapter 18 of AOP. 😂 Happy Reading everyone! 💕

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

_________________________

“I’m having your vest checked before you leave!”

You watch as Stark grabs the tablet from his suit jacket hanging on the coat rack near the door. He came around as soon as the alarms started to blare. What he came home to nearly doubled him over. It took him some time to get back to his joking ways, along with everyone else. Trying to deal with what happened only hours ago. 

Everyone except you. 

“Whatever,” Yelena rolls her eyes but points towards a gadget on one of the tables she walks past, “Your stuff isn’t even cool, Playboy.”

Her green eyes watching Nat nod that she’ll steal the parts for her. Yel looks over at you, sliding a granola bar across the table. You glance down at the wrapper, a chocolate chip granola bar. She looks at you with a hopeful grin but you don’t eat it. You just spin it around as you wait for her to tell you who you’re not allowed to kill. 

“Four mercenaries checked in at that checkpoint,” your eyes wash over the map with numbered outposts scattered around the landscape, “They’re heading to a resting place, assigned to the General’s protection unit. This restaurant,”

Yelena slides all the information she got from her contact casing the business, “It’s a front. A place to grab gear and weapons before they switch positions.”

“They’ll know where that asshole is,” you grumble, smashing the granola bar into the table with every slow stab of your thumb. 

“I’m just waiting on Rick to give us information on where they're stopping next. We'll swing in after them and steal some uniforms and codewords,” Yelena gives Natasha a look, ensuring that you see it but you don’t give it a second thought. They can see exactly what you want to do to every one of these soldier's wearing this patch.

They could think whatever they wanted about you now. They knew your true colors. If they’re surprised, it should be over that you’ve hidden them for so long. 

Natasha sees how you grind your teeth and turns to Yelena, “What that cost you? Five cases of Stoli?”

“Only four. I’m his favorite Russian spy.”

You ignore their arguing as you flip through the file further. It’s a simple plan. Corner some soldiers and work your way up the pay grades. Eventually someone would know where the General was and he worked closely with Strucker. 

“We’ll call you guys when we’ve got a location,” you stand up abruptly and look towards Steve, “Just make sure you have Clint by then,”

The door behind you opens and Stark rushes inside, not bothering to hold it open behind him as you see how wide his eyes are. 

“I tried to stall,” he turns on his heels and all of you watch as a greying and mustached man in a crisp suit steps through the door that closed on his face. 

Ross clears his throat as he pulls against his sleeves and carefully looks over everyone. Half of the people in the room are weary and exhausted from the mission. The other half stare cautiously, collecting papers behind their backs. Only one stares with a fury that the man has never seen before and because of this, speaks to you .

“You’re not operating.”

Your jaw clenches so tightly, you’re surprised it doesn’t completely shatter. Each paused stare along the politician’s body are places you know would completely ruin the rest of his life. Steve sees the way you roll your wrists, your breath elevating. Your fingers crack beneath his iron vice grip and you grimace as Stark attempts to negotiate with Ross. The words buzz around your head. 

Treaties. Agreements. Violations. War. 

You chuckle, drawing some attention your way but Stark quickly draws it back to him. You’ve been at war longer than Ross could know. At war with Strucker. With your own mind. But he couldn’t care less about those wars. They weren’t important. Finding and killing Strucker wasn’t important compared to the obscure agreements he had pulled up by an assistant. 

They wouldn’t be important to him until it was too late for everyone else. 

You didn’t utter a word as you moved past him, your shoulder cracking against his. He slammed into the door with a grunt. One of his guards stepped in front of you and he flew across the room into the railing of the staircase, not realizing how quickly you could move. The second guard half steps away from you as the pistol that was printing against his jacket comes out. 

Holding out your hands, you wave your fingers towards yourself, “Go ahead, buddy. Make my day.”

The trigger depresses just slightly and you grin, you just need a reason. There’s movement from your side and Nat stands in front of you, looking at you like you’ve lost your mind. And you can’t deny to her that you haven’t.

“Stop being stupid,” she whispers harshly, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around. 

Your face slams into the floor but you don’t struggle. You just watch your breath fog up the tile as your body contorts to Nat’s will. Her apologies to Ross don’t make it past the ringing in your ears. There’s a pressure in your shoulder and your knees come up beneath you, your feet following behind them. 

Stumbling towards the back room, you remember this route. It was the walk you made every day back to the holding cells. The cells you tried so hard to convince yourself that the enemy surrounded you. That any day your meal brought by a redheaded witch would be sedated and you’d be taken within inches of your life. 

“Don’t be mad,” Nat tells you as you stare down at the same bed you sat and watched Wanda chew on her pens, “This is just for show. Ross is out of his mind, we’re going. I’ll exhaust my Rolodex. I’ve got favors to use up.”

There isn’t much warning and even less for Natasha when the dull numbness subsides. You sink down onto the floor, your back pressing against the frame of the bed and exhale sharply. Pressing your stinging eyes against your knees, you let out an uncharacteristic noise. A wailing sob that burns your throat. Your body shivering with shaking breaths that used to only wake you from nightmares. 

And then you realized. Your nightmares had become your life. 

_______________________

Your fingers play with the corners of the menu in front of you, eyes scanning words that you don’t comprehend. The only thing on your mind is the number of people inside, the paths around the tables and exits around you. Leaning against the wall behind you, you watch the waitstaff exit the kitchen from your right. 

“You know I hate eating out with you. Do you know why?” You pull your eyes away from a man sitting alone at the bartop and glare at the blonde in front of you, “Because you always want to sit next to the kitchen and anytime a plate comes out, I think it’s mine.”

Your grimace grows into a scowl, “You don’t know what you ordered?”

“Of course I know what I ordered,” she almost looks offended, as she crosses a leg over her thigh, “I just think it smells good and I’m starving and you’re making me sit here when you made me rush out of the hotel breakfast.”

You stare in silence before glancing back down at the menu, taking a sip of the odd tasting tap water in your glass. A slow breath gets pulled in across the table and you brace yourself for more complaints. 

“Do you ever realize how grumpy you get?”

She’s met with more silence. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re not grumpy, you’re pissed off,”

You cock an eyebrow and watch her grumble down into her menu, “Times a million.”

The waiter makes their rounds again, oddly bypassing your table once again. Your brows clench slightly when he stops at the bartop and talks to the lonesome man. 

“I’m sorry,”

The words catch you off guard and you look back across the table, “What?”

Yelena fiddles around with the bag on her lap, drawing your attention but holding the conversation with ease, “That you actually listened to my advice. About being vulnerable.”

You sigh and adjust the piece of metal digging into your stomach, “She’s part of the team, Yel. I’d be worried either way.”

She hums and you sigh before looking her way again, “When are you going to stop lying to yourself? You wouldn’t be a part of this team right now if it wasn’t -,”

“We’ve been made,” you stop her from psychoanalyzing you any further and carefully watch more suited men enter the building. 

The waiter isn’t as subtle as they keep glancing your way, practically pointing at you. You push your shoulders back, it was inevitable. You weren’t regulars here. The two of you were bound to be noticed. And at least you could say now that you didn’t start the fight. 

Yelena stands up, stopping the waiter who just decided to walk out of the kitchen. You hiss at her to stop as she pokes and prods at the food. The three suited men are walking towards you, two already have their hands tucked inside their suits while the other has their knuckles lined with metal. 

“Yel!” you whisper at her. 

“Don’t bother taking this back to the kitchen, it’s trash!” she yells and whips the tray from his hands and slams it into the group behind her. 

You yell, punting the table away from you, knocking a few of the suited men on the floor. A few start stumbling to their feet amongst the shattered plates and sauces. Yel wraps her legs around the unsteady man who was knocked in the head with a ramekin. As she flips him to the ground, your breath is rushed from your lungs as you’re bulldozed back into the kitchen. 

Slamming your elbow into the top of his shoulder, you try to loosen the tight hug the man has on you. It loosens. After you back clangs against one of the many stoves in the kitchen. You grunt, shoving yourself down to the floor and frantically slapping your arm. 

Your shirt smokes after pressing directly against one of the burners. Your back throbs as you hold up a hand, 

“One second,”

The man waves his hand at you, “Thought you were supposed to be a problem. Don’t know why people are so scared,” His knee slams into your face and you’re knocked back onto the ground as the stove door slams between your shoulders, “Get up!”

“Careful,” you cough, trying to move the arm you swear you heard a crack from, “You’ll ruin your dinner,”

Reaching back, you pull yourself up with the help of the stove. Your eyes catch the sight of scallops cooking in oil. With a grunt, you swing your arm and throw the hot oil behind you, feeling it slightly burn your neck with some flyaway droplets. 

The man screams, holding his hands against his face as you smack the pan against the top of his head. His screams end as he collapses to the floor. The pan clangs next to him, 

“You got something in your eyes,” you say before you grimace from the unyielding pain in your shoulder. 

The kitchen door swings open and you see another man walk in. He doesn’t wear a suit like the other men. It’s a dark uniform and you can see the patch on his shoulder. His belt is lined with different knives and you let out a sigh, you really didn’t want to have to shoot anyone today. 

He pulls one of the long blades from its sheath and tosses it with a quiet grin from hand to hand. The blade reflects the light in every direction as it spins and flips through the air. You sigh, going to lift up your shirt but stop as the emergency door is cracked open. The talent show in front of you pauses for a moment as Yel waltzes inside, rubbing her reddened knuckles. 

“Room for dessert?” she asks, and eyes the man take out another knife with a grin.

“You’re the one who was starving,” you remind her, trying to get feeling down into your numbed fingers. 

She sighs, walking forward without hesitation towards the clanking blades. She grabs a simple chef’s knife from a counter she passes, not slowing her pace. The man swings his arm around, going in for a backhanded stab and is only met with air as Yelena sidesteps without a thought. Her foot slides around gracefully as she ends up behind him. 

She leans forward as the blade slices underneath his arm, pulling a yelp from his throat and the knife in that hand clattering to the floor. She ducks between his frantic swings, making it look like a dance as you look around for where they keep the ice. Spinning on her knee, Yelena presses the blade to his upper thigh and pulls her arms up without much resistance. 

Standing up, she steps around the shocked man and places the knife back where she found it, now dirtied with blood. The man collapses to the floor with grunts, trying to press his hands against the cuts that are profusely bleeding. 

“Hit the arteries. He’s got twenty seconds.” she says as she pulls out a bag of frozen peas, “They said always fresh, never frozen. This place sucks,”

Pressing the cold vegetables to your shoulder, you follow her out into the dining area. You see that she fought more than the two suited men that came for you both. The Hydra soldiers you two were waiting for finally arrived and their uniforms were now ripe for the taking. Tearing some of the unneeded clothes, you make a makeshift wrap to keep the frozen peas in place. 

As you folded up the uniform you’d be taking, you handed over one of the shirts that would fit Yelena better. She goes to take it but you hold onto it for one second longer,

“Thank you,” you say, watching as her eyes look at you with her mouth slightly agape, “I listened to you and stopped lying to myself. Now I’ve got three people to worry about.”

“We’re going to get her back. Alive and safe. And we’ll make sure Strucker draws his last breath, too.” she tells you, wiping off a mustard stain before looking up at you, “Wait, you worry about me? You know sweets ruin your dinner.”

You grin, “Speaking of, I saw some macaroni in the kitchen,”

“You ever dine and dash? That dude is definitely dead in there, we won’t get caught.” Yelena excitedly jogs back into the kitchen to get some road trip snacks and leave you alone to the thoughts that fill your head as the sham of a smile falls from your face. 

You hope both of her promises come true but you know you’ll be lucky to have only one come true. And this unending cycle will continue. Tapping the boots against your thigh as you walk, you wonder how much collateral you have to your name.

________________________

Your fist slams forward, over and over again. Making contact with a fury that leaves his nose cracked and blood to pour from split brows. With a grunt and one more crack, you whip your arm down and extend your fingers. They practically groan from being clenched for so long. You stare at the reddening of your skin, wiping away the blood that isn’t yours. You glance over to the soldier’s friend, waiting patiently in their chair as they stare at the wall. There’s soft mutterings coming from them and you wonder if they’re practicing their lies. 

With a sigh, you turn back to the soldier in front of you, his face bleeding and his left eye already swollen shut. You glance down at his dirtied name tag, Fisher.

“Tell me where they are, Fisher. Come on, you were there being a good little soldier. Where is Strucker?” you squat down in front of him, resting your arms on your thighs and attempt to hold onto your patience a little longer this time. 

He huffs and puffs but doesn’t give an answer, you grin at how loyal he is to this madman. You sigh, picking up the pipe you had previously ripped from the wall and used to make his arm slightly crooked. 

“Listen, I don’t have all this precious time and you’re not the only one I need to talk to so,” you swing the pipe with a strong twist of your hips right into his shin, watching as he conceals his screaming into his shoulder. 

“Okay! They, goddamit! I only know where the General is.”

“Keep it coming,” you say, pacing in front of him and manipulating the cold metal between your hands. 

You listen to his directions, the description of the hideaway the General uses for all of his vices. You grunt, knowing you’re sure to find the worst bachelor pad of your life. Fisher continues to babble on, telling you where you can find mounds of cash in the walls and all kinds of classified documents. You’re bareilly paying attention until he brings up a certain scientist. 

“Strucker… he’s trying to do something. Brainwashing or some crazy magic from this staff. I don’t know, please let me go.”

His voice cracks as he leans as far forward as his tied up body lets him. You stop your pacing and look at his miserable face, his lip now starting to swell. The blood mixes with his sweat and you feel a whole new level of hatred. You know what he’s talking about but you wish you didn’t.

“What?” you ask, making sure you heard him right.

He swallows roughly and you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, “You can’t save her.”

You clench your jaw, the metal creaking in your hands as he stares in fear, “What is he doing to her,”

Fisher grimaces and stares past you. He shakes his head, he’s done talking to you. He’s looked into your eyes and knows he’s not getting out of here alive no matter how much he tells you. You wish you could lie to him, stroke his ego that he’ll heal from his wounds and live a normal life. All you do though is shake your head at his decision. He’ll recover from his wounds but his face’s natural color is going to be blue from this day forward. Pulling back, your joints practically creak as you clench your fingers into a fist. 

“I’m a nice person,” you whisper and watch him shiver away from your breath, “I’m going to let you think about what you’ve done. And when I come back, we better be on the same page.”

Turning, you replace the pipe with a glass of water and take a sip from it. You realize how thirsty you’ve become and you wonder how much longer you’ll be upright. You’re exhausted and starving but every hour you waste, is another hour Wanda is subjected to hell. You remember clearly what happened when you both were captured. You know it’s only worse with that scientific madman. 

Wiping your bloody knuckles against your pants, you walk to the other soldier. They’ve been having a nice time relaxing and dreaming but they forgot to set their alarm. You toss the glass of water at them, shocking them awake. You watch them cough out the water they inhaled with their gasp and casually grab a chair. Pulling it in front of them, they shake at their binds, probably having gotten lost in their happy dreams. Sitting down casually, you’re hoping that this will be a nicer chat. 

Price has nothing more to say to you than their pal Fisher over there. They spit at you, your jaw clenching when you feel the wetness smack you on the face. She chuckles as you slowly wipe it from your face, flicking it down to your boot. You don’t let the rage show on your face as you look up at her calmly. 

“You feel like talking while your friend takes a rest?” you ask her quietly, crossing your foot on top of your knee.

She stays silent, glaring at you. 

“Tell me where the woman is,” you give her one more chance to offer you something useful.

“What woman, asshole? There’s only some freak of nature,” she sneers at you, thinking she can play games. 

You look Price dead in the eyes. Your graciousness continues, you won’t kill her just yet, “One last time. Where?”

“Fuck you,” she spats out once again and you groan. 

You nod with a smile and don’t blink as you slide the knife from your belt and slam it into her shoulder in one fluid motion. As soon as the blade cuts, her scream fills the cabin and the front door opens. You grab the handle tightly and quickly shake her, 

“You tell me where she is or so help me, you’ll never use this arm again!”

“I don’t know!” she screams, gritting her teeth against the pain, “I don’t know!”

Before you can twist the blade, your arm is twisted behind you as you’re shoved towards the front door. You don’t fight against them but you stop your feet to grab the jacket you left on the coat rack. 

“She knows. She knows where Strucker is,” you tell Nat, sliding your arms into your coat. Looking up, you see the worry in her green eyes and for a second you freeze. 

“Reign it in,” she tells you harshly, “You know how this works. You’re just finding an excuse now.”

You slowly button your jacket, “We need to find her.”

“And you’re not finding her if you’re becoming that,” she slaps the patch on your shoulder roughly, “Again. Go get some air, now.”

Stepping through the door, you slide your hands into the uniform jacket and glance down at yourself. The uniform is filthy, covered in dirt and food from the scuffle you had when you ambushed the place. Dried blood and sweat from the conversation you were having with the two survivors. You climb into the car with a sigh, what the hell was Natasha talking about. She knew as well as you that some things required certain tactics. Maybe you were right all along. She had gotten soft.

Yelena peers back at you from the front seat. She shakes a box of granola bars in front of you but you wave her away, listening to her mumbling about how you’re going to pass out. You run your fingers along your knuckles, feeling a stinging pain you hadn’t felt in a long time. A time you always told yourself you wanted to forget. But here you were, purposely living in the past. 

Glancing up, you see green eyes carefully watching you through the rearview. You raise your brows. 

“You okay?”

You stare at the front door you were pushed out of, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N,” Yelena sighs. 

“What do you want me to say?” you snap, watching the green eyes stare one moment longer and then look away. 

There’s a prolonged silence until a noise has you jumping out of your skin, “That you’re scared.”

Nat’s voice carried in from the open window and you watch her climb into the passenger seat, gently closing the car door. You look her over, she doesn’t have a single drop of blood on her and her face isn’t flushed from exertion. She nods quietly to her sister, the car starting to reverse and leaving dust behind all of you. 

You stare out the window, not giving her the answer she already knows. 

“We’ll find her. The General will know where she is and if he doesn’t, the files on his desk will.”

“Are we going to find her alive?” the real question you’ve been thinking of explodes from your mouth and it’s met with the exact answer you knew it. A heavy silence. “You promise me that and I’ll stand aside.”

“You know we’re doing everything to make that happen. So trust us, she's coming home.”

The car ride quiets until you hear the rumbling of your stomach. With a sigh, you lean forward and grab a few bars out of the box that Yelena had offered you. 

“When we get to the General’s safe house,” Nat peers over her shoulder to look at you properly, “Come in after we clear it. Please.”

You look at her, her eyes flashing down to your split knuckles. How hard they shake as you try to open the simple packaging of the granola bar. You think back to what she said to you in the house and realize the night is lasting much longer than you intended. You let yourself hide back into the darkness and you see that there isn’t always a light to rely on. You’d have to be ready for the light. 

If it came down to it and only one of you made it out, you wouldn't want Wanda to remember you with the things you did to find her. You didn't want her to remember the person that she met for the first time but the one she ended up loving.

Biting into the chocolate chip, you give a small nod, “Fine.”

______________Ch. 19

[typingtess]

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch:  “Let It Burn”

The basics:  The team investigates arson at a defense contractor that has the signature of an environmental activist.

Written by: Indira Gibson Wilson co-wrote, “The Frogman’s Daughter”, "Signs of Change" and “Hard for the Money” and was the sole writer for "Lost Soldier Down".  Gibson Wilson played the sleeping Michelle Hanna before Aunjanue Ellis showed up in season four.

Directed by:   Rick Tunell directed "Revenge Deferred", "Se Murio El Payaso", "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" and “Hard for the Money” (co-written by Indira Gibson Wilson).

Guest stars of note: Duncan Campbell returns as NCIS Special Agent Castor from “Of Value”; Justin Huen is Randall Perez.  He was Santo Perez in season two’s “Personal” as the man who shot Deeks.  Ashlei Sharpe Chestnut as FBI Special Agent Summer Morehurst; Romi Dias as Denise Perez, Thal Gondim as Crystal Perez; Brian Leigh Smith as Bomb Tech Aaron Roberts; Rhomeyn Johnson as Terrell and Joe Corzo as Foreman/Michael Duncan

Our heroes:  Are all over the place with Kensi in DC, Callen locked in the office, Sam and Deeks teamed up and Rountree working with an old girlfriend.

What important things did we learn about: Callen:  Reading the Pembrooke file as part of his library day. Sam:   As a caretaker, he has to think about his father first. Kensi:  School trip with Rosa and 24-other 16-year old girls. Deeks:  Offered a trip to Costa Rica. Fatima:   Sent in the field because Callen had a library day. Rountree:  Dated a coworker at the FBI. Kilbride:  Keeping Callen on track.

What not so important things did we learn about: Callen:  Not training for a triathlon because he as common sense. Sam:    Training for a triathlon. Kensi:  OK with Deeks going to Costa Rica – she might go if he doesn’t. Deeks:  Not going to Costa Rica. Fatima:  Wants to know the Rountree-Summer story. Rountree:  Training for a triathlon and going to Costa Rica.  Kilbride:  Not sure Henrietta is Hetty’s first name.  Not sure he likes her either.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange?  In the Pembrooke file.

Who's down with OTP:   Deeks is trying to figure out a solo Costa Rico trip, worrying that probably won’t fly with the family at home.  Rountree has an ex in the FBI.

Who's down with BrOTP:  A little Sam-Deeks bonding about traveling away from your family and becoming a detective through videos.

Fashion review:   Callen wears a long sleeve medium blue lightweight hoodie.  Sam started the day in a wet suit and wore a black long-sleeve tee for most of the episode.  He was in a brown one at the end of the episode.  Deeks has a pale blue henley for most of the episode but a baby blue hoodie.  Fatima wears a light gray jacket over a white turtleneck.  Rountree started the day in a wet suit too with too, too tight swim trunks.  Wore a gunmetal grey pullover sweater once he was dressed.  The Admiral wore his uniform – dark blue suit, light blue dress shirt, blue tie.

Music: “From Fire” by Perta is used in the teaser.  Deeks is shooting in the range with The Mighty Mighty BossTones’s “The Punch Line” playing over the speakers.

Any notable cut scene:  Not today.

Quote:   Kilbride:  “We've all done things we regret.” Callen:  “Hetty doesn't seem to be the kind of person to regret much.” Kilbride:  “Don't kid yourself.  Now, she may put on a good front, but Hetty has enough regrets for all of us.  She has done things that most wouldn't to keep the rest of us safe.  Unfortunately, that comes with some very dark, ugly things that you carry with you to your grave.” Callen:  “Well, I'm not sure how indoctrinating children does much to keep people safe.” Kilbride:  “I don't know.  Seems to me you keep people safe every day.  So maybe some good did come of it.  Even if their methods were ethically and morally questionable.” Callen:  “If not reprehensible.” Kilbride:  “I don't always agree with her.  And I usually don't like the way she operates.  Hell, I'm not even sure I even like her most days.  But I damn well respect her.  Henrietta, and I'm sure that's not even her real name, Henrietta has dedicated her life to the greater good.  She has made mistakes along the way just like the rest of us.  But it was always done in the service of this country.” Callen:  “So, am I a mistake or a dark, ugly thing she has to carry to the grave?” Kilbride:  “Only you can decide that, Agent Callen.  But in my experience, the past is a place to learn from, not to live in.”

Anything else:  In the evening, a construction crew is working in a high rise office building.  Mostly drywall.  The foreman is shutting things down for the night.  The workers start toward the door taking their hardhats, tools and backpacks.  One worker stays behind.

The worker starts spreading something on the floor and pours an accelerant on it.  As he lights a good part of the office floor on fire, the foreman returns.  The two men fight until the firebug knocks out the foreman.  The firebug tries to drag the foreman to safety but the entire floor is about to be engulfed in flames.  Leaving the foreman behind, the firebug runs.  A symbol is burned into the floor.

Callen is reading the paper in the boat shed by the coffee table.  Sam comes in from a swim with Rountree in tow.  Sam is thirsty, Rountree is uncomfortable.  He didn’t want to wear anything under his wetsuit but Sam found him swim trunks in the office lost and found.  Rountree is worried they belong to Deeks but Sam jokes they are Fatima’s.

Training for a triathlon with Sam, Rountree wonders why Callen isn’t involved.  Callen explains he has common sense.  Sam disagrees – Callen is afraid of sharks.  Callen isn’t but starts messing with Rountree by mentioning “McMurtry” who was shark bait.  Sam joins in on the fun before showering.

At the firing range, Deeks is shooting and listening to really loud music.  The Admiral arrives, pleased that Deeks is joining him in making good use of the early hours at the office.  Kensi and Rosa are on a school trip which gave Deeks the ability to surf, workout and shoot early in the morning like he did “pre-kid.”  Not that he’s complaining.  The Admiral offers Deeks the chance to attend the NCIS Western Conference.  Honored, Deeks is grateful for the offer but thinks he needs to stay close to home.  He recommends one of the younger agents – perhaps Rountree would enjoy Branson and a river cruise.  Rountree will get the Admiral’s consideration but the conference will be held in Nosara, Costa Rica.  Deeks reconsiders – maybe Kensi would be okay with him leaving the family behind for a few days.  It’s a week so Deeks is torn.

Sam took a long shower and hopes there is some hot water for Rountree.  As Rountree is about to go into the shower area, Fatima and Callen pop up on the plasma.  Sam asks for Deeks who he is told is trying to run a “boondoggle” on Kensi.  Fatima asks for Rountree, who is in the still way too tight swim trunks.  Fatima asks if Rountree is wearing her shorts.  Just kidding, she tells Rountree – they’re Kensi’s.  Rountree hates everyone.

Fatima starts with the case – the fire.  Global West Ventures, the people who had the office space, are Navy defense contractors.  The symbol burned on the floor was the signature of an arsonist named Randall Perez - O and A – On Alert.  Rountree was familiar with Perez – he didn’t work his case but the FBI was “on alert” for years when it came to Perez.  Perez blew up an oil tanker years back.  Shut down the 405 for a week.

Sam asks about the fire.  The office space was under construction and the foreman, Michael Duncan, died in the blaze.  LAPD thinks Duncan saw the arsonist and the two men fought.  This would be the first time an “On Alert” fire caused a death.  Rountree sees another difference in the fires.  Perez went after companies he thought were hurting the environment.  This was a defense contractor – not the same thing. 

Sam suggest he and Rountree go to the crime scene.  Kilbride told Fatima he wants Rountree working the FBI Agent in-charge of the “On Alert” cases.  Sam should met the with FBI as well.  Callen asks what is his assignment from the Admiral.  The Admiral wants to see Callen in his office. 

Castor bring the FBI Agent in charge of the “On Alert” cases into the boat shed.  FBI Agent Summer Morehurst tells Sam her boss thinks highly of him but not to play Sam in pickleball.  Sam knows her boss – Rashid Perkins – and Rashid knows what Sam can do with a paddle in his hand.  Morehurst reviews Perez’s history for Sam.  He started as a non-violent activist who was creative in his protests.  Trained as an artist, Perez made sculptures out of the plastic straws he found in the ocean.  Sam asked when did Perez change.  After a number of arrests for disorderly conduct at more radical protests according to Morehurst.

In 2017, Perez started setting fires.  It took the FBI nearly a year to identify him.  When the FBI started to close in on Perez, he set nine fires over two months.  He fled to Mexico when the FBI got too close and has been a fugitive for three-years.  This is the first time Perez has resurfaced and Morehurst vows to catch him.

Just after Morehurst’s vow, a towel-clad Rountree walks into the boat shed’s main room.  He’s looking for his clothes.  Rountree and Morehurst call each other by their first name and being the world class investigator he is, Sam deduces the two know each other.  “You can say that,” they both reply simultaneously.

Knocking on Kilbride’s door, Callen has some opinions.  He gets that Rountree has a past with the FBI (oh, if he only knew) and he’s good with Rountree working with them.   Sam, however, does not need to be supervising Rountree’s debrief with the FBI.  “I’m sorry you miss your bunkie but this isn’t summer camp,” the Admiral replies.  Sam is working with Deeks, “poor devil.”  When Callen asks why, the Admiral tells him “that’s what I want.” 

While the Admiral believes it is healthy to question authority on occasion, he’s getting pissed off about it being a regular occurrence.  Passing Callen a large folder, Kilbride shares all he could find on Pembrooke.  Callen knows he overstepped and thanks Kilbride.  Kilbride tells him it isn’t a gift – just a way to keep Callen focused on the job and not a ghost from his past.  This puts a halt to Callen doing his own research.  Callen defends what he does on his own time and it does not impact his work.  The Admiral disagrees – they wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise.  Calling it a “library day”, Callen is told to do his research in the office and is dismissed.

A properly dressed Rountree returns to the boat shed.  He asks if Agent Morehurst – Summer – set this up.  She knew he was working for NCIS.  Summer replies that if she wanted to see him, she would have called him.  Except she forgot that he doesn’t know how a phone works.  “Ouch, fair shot.”  Rountree apologizes but Summer says “we were a long time ago.”  Explaining that when they were dating, he was leaving the FBI, Jordyn was starting college – Rountree had a lot on her plate.  Fatima pops up on the screen but neither Rountree or Summer notice.  Still talking about their past – they were a couple for three months – Fatima really tries to make her presence known.  Rountree does introductions and it is all very uncomfortable.

Fatima found Perez’s sister, Denise.  She’s lived in the same house for 20-years in Gardena.  The FBI is aware of her.  Summer gets a call.  While she is dealing with the call, Fatima wants some gossip but Rountree shuts off the plasma.  A returning Summer tells Rountree her agents did some digging into the construction firm.  They are a well-run company – no major violations or complaints.  Thinking Perez may see his sister – and his daughter who is living with his sister – Rountree and Summer are having them brought in.

Finishing a call with Kensi, Sam ask Deeks about how he brought up the trip to Costa Rica.  Since Kensi is chaperoning 25 16-year olds in Washington DC, Deeks didn’t think this was the best time to bring up the trip.  Deeks asks Sam if he would go – now, with Raymond living with him.  Being a caregiver, Sam couldn’t go.  He needs to put Raymond’s needs first. 

At the crime scene, Sam sees some differences with Perez’s MO.  The fire was set much earlier in the evening.  Perez started his fires between 2AM and 4AM.  If the fire was started between 2AM and 4AM, foreman Michael Duncan would be alive.  The fire could have taken out the entire building.  Instead, it was limited to the one floor.  Sam wants to see the financials of Global West Ventures.  Make sure this isn���t a set-up for insurance money by using Perez’s signature to distract.

In the boat shed, Rountree is speaking with Crystal Perez, Randall’s daughter, with her Aunt Denise watching out for her.  Rountree is trying to be kind but the Denise talks about all the problems Crystal had in school when kids found out who her father was.  Crystal suffered enough.  Summer brings up that Randall Perez caused a lot of harm.  The FBI and NCIS want to stop him before he takes any more lives. 

Summer asks about Crystal’s life.  She’s a guide at a museum, planning to study being a curator in college.  Asked if she heard from her father, Denise jumps in saying that Crystal hasn’t heard from her father – “he’s dead to us.”  Crystal admits she has heard from her father.  

Denise is surprised and unhappy – Randall is dangerous.  Crystal explains that Randall is sorry – he left just as Crystal’s mother died.  He’s also sorry for what he did.  He’s considering turning himself in.  This catches Summer’s attention – does Crystal know where Randall lives?  She doesn’t.  They last spoke a month ago.  Rountree asks for Crystal’s cellphone number.

Fatima talks to Deeks – Global West Ventures is flush with cash.  The fire was not for the insurance money.  Sam is checking out the fire inspector’s report.  Thermite was used for the fire, something that is easy to make and transport.  Perez had his own recipe for thermite but tests will need to be run to see if the recipes match.  Nothing about Perez’s recipe was told to the public in the past – a copycat would not know the correct mixture.  Since thermite’s main components are iron oxide and aluminum powder used in bulk, only a few retailers would have them.  Finding where there they were purchased probably leads to the arsonist.

Callen is reading the Pembrooke files and having flashbacks to his oh so happy childhood.

Deeks is looking for footprints in the parking area behind the office building.  He’s a fan of Freaky Phil’s Forensics, leaving Sam worried that Deeks learned to be a detective on YouTube.  Sam is more interested in surveillance cameras while Deeks explains the thermite sticking to arsonist’s shoes if the shoes had deep grooves.  Sam finds some tire tracks while Deeks sees if a footprint belongs to the arsonist.  When the footprint catches fire, Deeks is pleased.  Based on the footprints and the tire tracks, the arsonist got in on the passenger’s side.  This is a two person job.  Since Perez always worked alone, this is looking like a copycat.

Kilbride catches Fatima listening in on Rountree and Summer.  She tries to explain “ghosting” to the Admiral, who knows what that is.  He’s more interested in a sit-rep than Rountree’s past.  A traffic cam caught the car leaving the parking area but the video is too grainy for facial-rec.  The plates belong to a dead man with a different car so that’s a dead end. 

More interesting was a number both the FBI and NCIS suspect belongs to Perez retrieved from Crystal’s phone.  As soon as she left the boat shed, Denise Perez called the same number so Denise has been in contact with her brother.  While the arson is likely the work of a copycat, Rountree and Summer are going to follow Denise to see if she leads them to Randall.  The Admiral tells Fatima to stop eavesdropping. 

Fatima has two stores that have the components needed for thermite with one making a large sale to a company called Core Dynamics two days earlier.  Core Dynamics has no certificate certifying it is a real business and the components were sent to an apartment building.  Sam and Deeks are on their way.

Denise Perez is in a public parking lot when Rountree and Summer pull in with the Land Rover.  Summer is annoyed – she wants to arrest Denise right way for lying to the FBI.  Rountree wants to see how things play out.  A man walks up to Denise’s car – she gets out to hug him.  It’s Randall Perez.  When Rountree and Summer approach, Randall runs and Rountree chases after him.  Denise tries to drive away only to turn around and try to take out Rountree using her car.  Randall Perez flees in his own vehicle.  Denise is under arrest.

At the apartment building, the manager explains he rents out garage space behind the building – www.parkyourauto.com.  Opening the garage that got the components delivery, there is no car but there is a lab set-up.  Sam sees a trip wire that would burn down the garage and cover the renter’s/arsonist’s tracks.  LAPD bomb squad is called.

Summer explains to Denise that she is facing life in jail for the attempted murder of a federal agent while helping a known fugitive escape.  Rountree thinks the judge would be lenient if Denise cooperates.  She’s not in the mood.  Randall did not set the fire.  He believes the FBI and NCIS are trying to pin it on him because of his past.  In his past, Randall believed he was doing the right thing – it is why Denise forgives him.  Rountree asks if Randall had an accomplice.  Two people were involved in the Global West Ventures fire.  Since Randall wasn’t involved with that fire, how could he have an accomplice?

Fatima joins Sam and Deeks as the bomb squad gives the garage the all-clear.  The IED attached to the trip wire probably wouldn’t have done much damage on its own but with all the accelerant in the garage, it likely would have taken out all the garages in the back of the apartment building.  Sam asks why Fatima is there and is told Kilbride sent her instead of Callen.  She has a piece of equipment – a mass spectrometer - that will analyze the thermite mix in the garage.

In the garage, Fatima asks Sam’s opinion of Summer.  Sam thinks she was nice until Rountree arrived.  Deeks is brought up to speed on the Rountree-Summer tea.  Fatima thinks it is like “When Harry Met Sally” mixed with “Love Jones” which means nothing to either Sam or Deeks.  She also says none of this is her fault – Rountree and Summer had their comms on.

The analysis matches the thermite mixture in the garage with Perez’s special recipe.  Deeks finds some maps of Los Angeles and a list of targets.  Global West Ventures was fifth on the list.   There is a health care company, an investment bank and a shoe manufacturer.  Fatima calls in the list to LAPD.

The Admiral has info for Sam and Deeks.  The dead man whose license plates were used in the arson is Christian Navarro.  The plates were cited in two-DUIs before he died.  The driver was Marco Navarro, Christian’s son and Deeks thinks is Perez’s accomplice.  Better news – the burner phone used by Randall to speak with Crystal and Denise was traced to a home in Echo Park.  Sam and Deeks are on their way.

At the Echo Park house, Deeks pretends to be a food deliveryman.  Perez runs and Deeks chases him through the house.  Sam is waiting at the back door.  A handcuffed Perez explains he has been trying to stop Marco Navarro.  He’s been looking for Marco Navarro.  Before he went on the run, Perez asked Navarro to store some of his explosives.  He thinks Navarro had his own mass spectrometer and figured out how to make his own explosives – Navarro is a smart man.  When he heard about the fire and the signature, he knew it had to be Navarro.

Saying they may believe him, Sam asks who would be Navarro’s accomplice.  Perez doesn’t know.  Navarro is a young, brash man who wants to change the world.  They were involved in many peaceful protests together.  He was family, lived with Perez.  When he figured out who Perez was, Navarro wanted to join him in the not-peaceful protests.  Perez pushed him away.  Asked if Denise knew Navarro, she did not.   She lived in a different part of town. 

Crystal knew Navarro, however.  He was like a big brother to her.  Sam checks with Rountree to see if Crystal had any contact with Navarro but Crystal turned off her phone.  She hasn’t been to work in a week – she quit.  Denise says this is not like Crystal at all.  Deeks asks if Crystal knew Navarro had Randall’s explosives.  She probably did but Randall tells Sam and Deeks that Crystal knew he also regrets what he did.  Deeks asks if he regrets what he did or regrets getting caught. 

In the boat shed, Summer tells Rountree that Crystal’s car was found.  A witness saw Crystal get into a car with a man who looks like Navarro.  The FBI is checking the area traffic cameras for license plates.  Denise told Rountree that Crystal didn’t mention having any new friends or changes in her life.  Summer is confused about the targets Sam and Deeks found – none of them have an environment connection.   Rountree thinks Navarro may have a different agenda than Randall Perez.

Back in Ops, Fatima found a connection to the companies on the list.   All of the companies are major donors to Senator Greg Garrett’s reelection campaign.  Sen. Garrett was responsible for killing an environmental bill in congress.  Navarro wanted the companies to pay.  Garrett is in Los Angeles to tour a warehouse that is part of an urban renewal project but the warehouse is not on the target list.  The warehouse isn’t the target, Rountree and Summer think, Garrett is.  They are going to meet Sam and Deeks at the warehouse.  Fatima is going to update the Senator’s team.

Rountree and Summer meet with Sam and Deeks at the warehouse.  The Senator’s team is evacuating the place but the worry is that Crystal and Navarro had an hour to lay down the thermite and accelerant.  Entering the building, there is no sign of anyone – Crystal, Navarro or Garrett.  Sam and Deeks come across Crystal as she’s spreading thermite outside the warehouse. 

Rountree and Summer find Garrett and his aides.  Navarro opens fire, hitting one of the aides.  Rountree goes after Navarro while Summer gets Garrett and his staff to safety. 

Sam tries to talk Crystal into surrendering as he and Deeks enter the warehouse.

Rountree and Navarro struggle for about a second.  Navarro is apprehended. 

Crystal lets Sam and Deeks walk far enough into the warehouse so she can circle behind them and light the place on fire.  Sam finds a fire extinguisher and puts out the fire.  Crystal, on the run, winds up cornered by Rountree and Summer.  Crystal tries to explain that “we” are not the criminals.  She threatens to set herself and her bag of thermite on fire but Summer talks her out of it.  Crystal is arrested. 

The Senator’s aide is on his way to the hospital but everyone is fine.  Deeks mentions wanting to be a fireman – “mostly for the calendar.” 

At the end of the day, a tired Deeks is complimented Admiral for a good day’s work.  The Senator’s aide only suffered a flesh wound and is doing well.  Deeks says that after “extensive consideration” he’s going to turn down the conference.  The Admiral thinks Kensi would be relieved.  No, Kensi was fine with Deeks going, even thought she’d go if he said no.  The Admiral agrees with Deeks’s decision.  Besides, next year’s conference is in Albuquerque – perfect for Deeks.  Rountree is going to Costa Rica instead.

In the boat shed, Randall and Crystal share a hug before both are taken away.  Summer found the Perez's farewells bittersweet.  The FBI coordinated the farewell and Rountree approves.  Since she saved his life, Summer thinks she’s owed about five IOUs by Rountree.  She’s also grateful that Rountree apologized.  Sam arrives – Summer, her boss and Sam are going to play some pickleball. 

Once Summer leaves, Sam talks about starting their triathlon training at 4:30AM.  Rountree is distracted by Summer’s departure.  Sam thinks Rountree thinks too much.  “Call that woman – call her.”  Rountree chases after Summer.

The Admiral and his large decanter of scotch visit Callen in the bullpen.  Callen has the Pembrooke paperwork all over his desk.  Callen asks if the Admiral reviewed the information in the file.  He did not – he just called in some favors to get what he could find.  “This is your story, Agent Callen.”  It isn’t the Admiral’s place to invade his privacy, though his door is open if Callen wants to talk.

Callen doesn’t talk, he instead shows Kilbride a black and white photo.  It is Hetty and Pembrooke.  The Admiral explains everyone has done things they regret.  “Hetty doesn’t regret much,” according to Callen.  Kilbride disagrees – “Hetty has enough regrets for all of us.”  She has done things to keep people safe.  Dark, ugly things she will likely take to her grave.  Callen asks how indoctrinating children keeps people safe.  The Admiral thinks Callen keeps people safe, if the methods were morally questionable.  The Admiral isn’t a Hetty fan but he respects her.  Hetty is all about the greater good and she made mistakes.  But the mistakes were in the service to her country.  Callen asks if he’s a mistake or a dark, ugly thing Hetty will carry to grave.   The Admiral says the past is something your learn from, not where you live.

What head canon can be formed from here:    A rather generic, and talky to be honest, episode until the very end.  Nothing here wouldn’t have worked in season one, season five or season nine, just switching around the agents. 

Not thrilled with the family reunion at the end.  The foreman doesn’t get to hug his daughter one last time.

The end was very well done.  A quiet scene, really well written and well-acted.  Well worth the ho-hum 55-minutes before it. 

The Rountree scene cut in “Glory of the Sea” really would have helped sell Rountree ghosting poor Summer. 

Hey Deeks – you are going to get a hotel room for the conference.  Take Kensi and Rosa, you surf in the morning, going to some meetings in the morning.  While everyone else goes play golf in the afternoon (I’ve been to my fair share of conferences), hang with the family on the beach.  Life’s good.

Episode number:   Episode eight of season 14.  This is episode number 310 overall.

[castle-dominion]

4x11 until death us do part

flirty BODY toxic waste XD at least he has a water bottle, these idiots never have water bottles. "forgot it" this is the saddest thing ever. esposito just watching in disgust I love it lmao they are so in love & it's nauseating like he said but it's also so cute. but the no solid food thing sounds dumb af.

JE: Well, I am looking forward to meeting some of Jenny's sorority sisters. I'm about to show them some of New York's finest. *does a dumb little dance* KR: Good, then I guess you won't care that Lanie's bringing a plus one. JE, looking sad af: Who? KR: Uh, I don't know. She just RSVPed “plus one”. JE: How can--? How can she already have a boyfriend? We just broke up. KB: Don't worry, Espo, I'm going alone, so if the sorority girls don't work out, I'll dance with you. Alexis wasn't invited as castle's family.

Castle is so right, if I have to die I'm going down happy. Unless I want to make less burden on the mortician bc I'm suicidal bc I'm a burden on ppl, then I'd probs go nakey. ALEXIS? birthday suit hit the fruit. JE: *concerned about some medical guy named antonio* KR: *yelling loud af out the window*

Ooh sexy classical music ew castle: Coldest hearted creature on earth. She lures an unsuspecting male, takes him into her web, and then the moment they culminate, as soon as he feels the ecstasy of achieving his biological destiny, [shup] she opens up her jaws and eats him alive. Ryan, softly saying to beckett: I'm glad I'm in a healthy relationship.

Ooh double identity! fun!

Lanie's phone records? is that illegal? *chokes on the green toxic waste* He's rly pretty btw. Nice tie, nice red vest, nice shirt+jacket+lapel pin. So many buttons on the cuff. & then esposito at least he is wearing smth with a collar. "I'll get you his name.." *eyes emoji*

He fell pretty hard too lmao. isn't that dead in ASL?

Remember who killed markiplier & he died a billion different ways? Maybe that was a different episode... Rick: Who's the date? Lanie: Rick: sry "you dog" he says to the dead guy

KR: Ms. Franklin, i—it seems that you weren't the only woman that-- that Mr. Bailey was, uh… with [good word] in the hours prior to his death. HF: Um, what you mean “with”? KR: Was there another woman in the hotel room with you? HF: I didn't think could get any more humiliating. KR: Was that a yes? HF: No, Detective. KR: Thank you. Oh, and you should know that our M.E. has been able to determine that Mr. Bailey was, uh, wearing a condom both times, so that's… [I mean yeah at least you don't have an std] HF: That makes it all better. [Holly gives Ryan an angry look and he walks away. Holly calls after him.] HF: Now I wished I pushed him!

Poor ryan, he is Not Eating All Fricking Week & esposito comes in with a donut (lmao cop stereotypes) this is so sad remember that incorrect quotes? "did u eat my powdered donut?" 'no' "then what's that white powder on you?" 'cocaine?' KR: blgahgh!

RC: Speaking of murder, what's the credit card for? How is that a speaking of which?

KB: Yeah, well, you haven't heard what I would do. RC: Yeah, I don't think I ever want to know. LITTLE MISS HOMICIDE DETECTIVE Beckett's eyes just Widen My brother: hahaha look at Ryan. You can see his eyes go all the way around the room. *whisper yells* ryan, Ryan Riyaaan!!! Look at ryan's pretty tie there. hehe.

How did they GET all these women? I thought he was just sleeping with them not actually dating them all... & he wasn't lying to them abt his name but he still could have been lying about everything else.

RC: That's a big month. Taking a leave from work and your girlfriends. KR: And his apartment. *shakes evidence bags & his toxic water he's so cute omfh* & esposito is wearing basically the shirt I wore the other day except I actually embroidered mine to look cool. JE: That's a lot of cake. Me: what? KR: Why do you have to call it cake? I-it's money. It's a lot of money. It's about 60 grand. That's a really good fake id...

Wow that really messed up the meeting lol This man has a really really fancy tie but I don't like it.

lmao a wrench & an opened up paperclip? You want two paperclips or two wrenches hun. I thought she was just jewish lol I didn't realize it was an airline insignia woah former isralei military now that's experience

KR: Ahh. Jenny just texted me Lanie's plus one. Name is Toby Lang. JE: What? All right. Let's check this punk out. [Esposito types the name into his computer. Toby Lang MD pops up.] JE: Doctor Toby Lang? The guy's the chief administrator at St. Samuel's Hospital. Big job. KR: Lanie did her residency there, didn't she? JE: Yeah. KR, happygolucky: Good looking guy. JE: *eyeroll* KR: *looks down* JE: Played college hoops at Kentucky? Groundbreaking cancer research, are you kidding me? Put me down for plus one. KR: Jenny already did the tables. JE: >:( KR, immediately backtracking: What about her sorority sisters? *does that weird little dance brushing off his jacket* JE: Dude, I'm not showing up solo when she's bringing Captain America over here. *jabs the computer screen* KR, willing to upset his wife's placecards for his best friend: Okay. I'll talk to Jenny. But her mom is gonna need a name for that place card.

She said whom captions said who.

Perfect timing lol They would not have done it where there were cameras right in front of it These randos bested an ex-military flight attendant huh

Ryan is so smart: KR: Hey, tech just got the plate number off the kidnappers car. KB: I thought that the plates weren't visible on the ATM footage. KR: Ah, they weren't. But I found a traffic cam up the block where they were. I was also wondering where esposito was KR: In the break room trying to score his plus one. KB, through the wall: Espo! Let's go! JE: *looks up at Beckett and his hand slips on the espresso machine, spraying his potential plus one with steamed milk. The cop squeals in surprise and Esposito hands her a napkin on his way out.* Sorry. I gotta-- I gotta go.

RC: Hey, relax, man. It happens to a lot of guys. You get a little exited, lose control of your steamer. JE: (poor muzzle control. At least they let him mkick in the door) WHOA MOSTLY NAKEY OK THEN Lol I remember getting so many black eyes & nosebleeds from my san dien guan. classical music <3

exstalktion lmao castle rattling off crews before they reveal they are "pickup artists" 12%... oh wait this was back when milfs were not loved by tumblr Pablo Barnes: Then I see that she's got a ring on her finger. She's a married chick. We stay away from married chicks. KB: 'Cause you're so ethical. (other room) Max Landon: pf! No. They're just trouble. But he doesn't care. He's all in on her.

Authorizing huh? I like how espt is taking notes for the case but is totally taking them for himself. m-swing? heisman? Butterjob? *ryan looks over at espt taking these notes, I think he's asking "what are you doing" with his hand* Yank & chain reversal Bailey ultimatum? ew yucky

Holy crap it is a ledger & the prop team actually filled it! zebra trap? *boys get a little too close in the face* (this scene from the transcript) [23:54, INT. PRECINCT, BULLPEN - NIGHT] [Castle flips through Mike's "ledger".] RC: It's literally hundreds of women that Bailey slept with. KB: Or so he claims. JE: Seems legit to me. Most of these shots are pretty racy. [Esposito leans in close to see the ledger over Castle's shoulder.] RC: All with nicknames and dates. "June 9, 2010 Carnal Carrie. June 12, 2010 Mesmerizing Marjan." JE: Mmm. [Castle turns his head & ends up within kissing distance of esposito, then backs away from Esposito's face.] RC: Whoa. JE: Sorry.

KR: Really? This impresses you? These women are pathetic for falling for this guy. And Bailey? Bailey was just a--a con man and a liar. KB: Thank you. At least there is one real man amongst us. inconsistency with the book being open & closed but I don't care. it's fine.

RC: Beckett, when exactly did Ryan and Jenny start dating? [weird how ryan is is last name] KB: Mm, I think it was around 2009. She got him that ugly tie for their two week anniversary. [I remember that episode] So, I think Easter April. RC: Meaning, by May 2009, they'd been dating a month. KB, disinterested: Yeah. Why? RC: ... RC, uncomfortable: Bailey's May 20, 2009 entry. [Castle flips the book around to show Beckett.] KB: Oh, my gosh. That's Jenny. [that's a big picture compared to the others] RC: (whisper) Not just Jenny. "Gyrating Jenny".

esposito making eyes at work. so dumb sometimes. then again I'm a lesbian I was dating my first partner for a month before we realized it

JE: I think I like this place, partner. [calls him partner <3] KR: Dude, you're a cop. This is a Midtown bar. Women here, they're looking for lawyers and bankers. JE: I bank. [yeah bud, you use a bank] *Ryan chuckles* KR: Well, you are on your own. I'm getting married on Sunday. [he's so smiley] JE: Exactly. So, this is your last chance to be my wingman, [yk that's cute] help me get a plus one. [ah yes] KR: *drops his notebook in his lap* JE: I think I'm gonna try an M-swig. [lmao from the pickup artists] KR: Dude, you can't be serious. JE: What, are you thinking butter job? [no esposito he was not saying you can't be serious about the m swing he was saying you can't be serious about this silly thing right before his wedding] *Ryan bites his lips trying not to say anything* ew writes really big like that? You probably go through notebooks hella fast then.

Castle doing dishes lmao forbes top 400 no f'ing wonder But these people aren't in his book so...

I feel like you /should/ tell ryan but big bro brought up what happened in m*a*s*h If it's more than 2 you can't say both anymore. it's the 21st century people sleep with other people before marriage. (reminds me of that incorrect quote I read for aftg: Nicky "what's your body count?" neil 'idk like 30' nicky "neil you slut" neil 'wait we were talking about sex? I'm a virgin.' Nicky "WAIT WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY 30?") especially that early on, like... I mean they had a fortnightversary tie gift so they must have really liked each other but I thought "what if they were just dating a bunch of different people but kept coming back on a date with this one person so we decided to make it official" but that doesn't fit with the two week gift. I mean I would suggest talking to jenny herself

goes by jd, so cute RC: So, who was the wingman, the grandpa or the kid? She's not just skipping out on her dad she's skipping out on ryan. except that she wasn't invited in the first place she's a plus one so who cares.

oh my goodness 2:30 in the morning? that's late af when you have work the next day! At least esposito looks good in his bisexual layers, leather jacket, hoodieWAIT trans headcanon except for yk military but shush. See? & that's how you carry your coat. Ryan is soooo pretty. He doesn't have an engagement ring tho rn which I think is cool ig bc he can wingman easier... I am sure that I have seen this clip around so I don't feel the need to record it except that I do. Great fight scene but poor ryan he is starving.

you always email yourself, have you never had a job or been in high school? corporate sexpionage

I think that the writer couldn't come up with a joke so had castle say "there's a penetrating enemy lines joke here" either that or they were all too dirty for tv. pretty pretty sweater. KR: The only reason you guys didn't run into her at Global Twelve Consolidated is that we're still holding her. Lmao they were holding her & that's why she wasn't there that's literally what he said but I just found it funny I can't wait for ryan to faint while on the case.

Is this lunch or supper chinese food? lil bro just said gold frankincense & myrhhder should be a castle episode so now I'm goingto write a fanfic based on it. I was just going to quote the first bit but then there was more & I could not find a good place to stop. KB: There's too big a pool of possible marks that Bailey could have slept with. JE: Yeah, uh…speaking of that. You know…Ryan's my boy, [<3]so I gotta tell him about Jenny and Bailey. [Beckett gives Castle a look.] RC: You only told me I couldn't tell Ryan. KB: (sigh) Look, Espo, I appreciate your point of view, but the guy hasn't eaten in a week and a half, and after that doughnut incident, I don't-- [yeah she's right now is not the time to handle it, but then again I said they should tell jenny & she has also not eaten for a week & a half.] *Ryan enters and stares at the Chinese food sitting on the table. He gingerly picks up a file from the center of the boxes* KR: I'll just take these back to my desk. [bc he doesn't want to be around food, poor guy, brings up my DE days] JE: Sit down, bro. KR: What? *looks around* What? *sits down* KR: Why do you guys look so serious? JE: You should…eat something. KB: Yeah. Look hungry. You've got the posture of a feral cat. KR: Guys, I made a sacred vow to the woman I love… RC: *moves a takeout box towards Ryan* KR: Is that Mushu pork? [Esposito continues chowing down the food.] JE: (muffled) Yes. It is delicious. Come on, bro, just eat. [Ryan grabs the food from Castle and digs in, groaning in pleasure.] KR: (muffled) you're not kidding about this Mushu pork. Come on! JE: Right? KR: (muffled) Would you pass the spring rolls, please? JE: Yeah. So… *passes the box* JE: You know how we all love Jenny, right? KR: Yeah, what about her? JE: Well, it's just that…that ledger of Bailey's… KR, interrupting: Hey, is she in that? I've been meaning to ask, but I have been having these--these memory lapses. [which is so not ok, esp for a detective] Mm, pass the fried rice? RC: Yeah. *hands Ryan the box* RC: So, you've known all along? KR: No. I was telling Jenny about Javi's antics last night. [first names bc this was javi not esposito] *Beckett gives Esposito a look.* KR: And we got to talking about the case, and she told me that she met Bailey at a bar a month or so after we started out. JE: She told you about that???? KR: (chuckles) Yeah. She had no idea that he was some kind of professional pickup artist. Ha! RC: And you're not upset at all? KR: I'm-- um… *looks around* it's not like we were exclusive. [points for the polyam o'ryspolly hcs.] Mm, is that Mongolian beef? *Beckett smiles at Esposito and Castle's reactions. An officer enters. She hands Ryan a note.* Di: Here you go. KR: Thanks, Di. *Ryan reads the note.* KR: Oh! Get this. [he's been so happy since putting food in his mouth.] So, I've been trying to figure out where else Bailey might've been staying for the past month, and when we got onto his corporate spying for Global Twelve Consolidated, I looked into their corporate housing. KB: That's-- a great idea. RC: Yeah. Why didn't I think of that? [yeah, esp since he's the one starving himself.] KR: Turns out Mike Bailey has been checked into the Oaks on Park Avenue for the last month under his alias, Jake Hendricks. KB: Well, what are you sitting around for? *Ryan gets up quick & excited but hesitates as he reaches back for some food.* KR: Uh, do you mind if I take a spare rib? *Castle hands Ryan a takeout box.*

lil bro: maybe it's dr parish bc she deals with people who perish

First names but as someone with a mispronounced name I hate when they call him javieérre with three syllables & a big r instead of javyer' with two (& a half) syllables & a tapped r.

"yeah I bet" lmao

should have been the guy then it should have been the lawyer & then it was some rando.

Ryan eating a donut again <3 he's alive! & he is using a tissue to protect his hands<3 KR: haha, I'm just glad I'm out of the game. RC: The games are only beginning for you, my friend. KB: Hey, so what's up with your plus one? JR: Oh, it's on. That's all I'm saying.

marriage love marriage love wedding I can't believe it I'm so happy for him

[Esposito stands with a gorgeous woman taller than he is (at least in heels). Lanie enters with her doctor date.] JE: Lanie, hey. LP: Hello, Javier. This is Toby. TL: Pleased to meet you. JE: Yeah, you too. This is Jody. LP: Nice to meet you. Jody: Pleasure. Excuse me, I need to find the ladies' room. *Lanie watches Jody saunter off.* TL: Um, you two talk. I'll get us seats. LP: Thank you, Toby. JE: Toby, huh? LP: What do you mean, "Toby, huh"? JE: I don't know, you tell me. LP: You and I broke up two months ago. So, unless you thought I'd joined a convent, you need to take a step back. [Yeah bud two months is not "we just broke up" but it is a short amount of time in some ways] JE: So, you two serious now? LP: Yeah, we're serious. About dancing. [I loooove dancing, that's how ogdoch got together, I know plenty of people who aren't lovers but are dance partners, I love going to Métis fiddle dances, I can't wait to learn more swing, I've had enough salsa but I could always go for more, I have hade more than enough ballroom dancing but I wouldn't mind more as long as it's fun...] LP: That's why his boyfriend let me borrow him. Besides, I figured I'd need somebody to keep my company while you flirted with all of Jenny's sorority sisters. JE: Toby's boyfriend? *points back to the doctor* LP: And I seem to recall you here with the center for the New York Liberty. JE: She's my cousin. I heard you were coming with a date, so I thought I had to have somebody… you look great, you know. LP: Yeah, I know. JE: Can I show you to your seat? LP: That would be nice. *Lanie takes Esposito's arm and they enter the church.* they are so cute. I recently in my normal watch heard lanie mention the occasional booty call which I think is hilarious, & then a more recent ep was the valentine's ep & I think it was soooo cute.

they are not together? I can't believe it, caskett are too good together. Tho tb beckett doesn't look super great rn. He looks so happy! & she snaps a photo! Ohhhhhh uwu uwu they hug & kiss but then castle & esposito are so boring barely even shaking his hand He's getting married today! He is getting married to the love of his life (besides his other partner) & he is so happy & in love! becks preventing him from turning around esposito is one of the groomsmen I'm assuming on his right our left is nolan jenny's half brother but who the heck is the guy on the other side?

[hournites]

Im not the hournite/car anon… but what is the Theory?

OK so here's the deal! Did some snooping and as we know Beth is absolutely wearing 3 chains in the car and the shot cuts out like most of her body. I checked and found this bts vid of Anj on set from when she was promoting the stargirl s2 finale and HEY. She's NOT WEARING THE THIRD NECKLACE.

Why would she be wearing 2 but not the 3 unless it's obviously a spoiler?? And she was doing a live so obviously that was a no go (her jacket is also gone).

ALSO I AM A COMPLETE IDIOT. BECAUSE. RICK MAKES A NEW HOURGLASS. SO WHO IS TO SAY THE ONE SHE IS WEARING HAS THE SAME CHAIN THAT WE ARE USED TO?

I based it upon the bts of Rick in his suit fighting Cam and it is once again a gold link chain

But the more that I look at it!!!

the THICKER the chain seems.

And, again, she's in Rick's car so it makes sense, right? Right??? What do you think, non og hg anon?

And thanks for @bluevalleybreakingnews for reintroducing the theory. I didn't want to get my hopes up and I'm still cautiously like .... trying my best to be logical in thinking maybe not. But. MAYBE YES.

[tinydooms]

Derbyshire, May 1931

"Oh, I am going to kill Jonathan."

Evie, wrapped in an Egyptian robe on her return from her morning ablutions, blinked. Rick stood half-dressed at the side of the big four poster, dressed in a gleaming white shirt, a tastefully pattered tie, and his underwear. There was a thunderous expression on his face. He looked up as Evie came in, and snatched up a pair of woolen trousers, holding them up with direful eyes.

"What d'you call these?"

Evie choked back a laugh. "Er, knickerbockers."

"Knickerbockers!" howled Rick, shaking the offending articles. "What was he thinking?! I can't wear these!"

Evie put her hand to her mouth, trying to hide her grin. "I think you'll look rather adorable."

Rick glared. "Honey, I've gone my entire life without looking adorable; I'm not about to start now."

Evie cackled and went to put on her own clothes. They were up in Derbyshire for the week at a house party put on by the formidable Duke of Devonshire, who liked to host interesting people and who might be persuaded to fund a dig next season. It was a last-minute trip; the Carnahan-O'Connells had been over in Ireland, helping one of Evie's former professors with a dig in the peat bogs, and Jonathan had been tasked with packing suitable clothes for the party. Being a reasonable fellow, he had handed that task over to the housekeeper, Mrs. Bythell, but had wired Rick to tell him that he needed a new suit for outdoor activities, and "not to worry, I know just the fellow!"

"Aw, man." Rick sank down onto the bed, holding the offending trousers in both hands. "Why didn't we stay in Ireland?"

Evie, pulling on a stylish woolen skirt and jumper, perfect for a fashionable country party, smiled in commiseration. "Knickerbockers are very fashionable, you know. I'm given to understand that film stars wear them."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a film star." Rick sighed. "Can I wear my archaeology clothes? We'll give the toffs something to talk about."

Evie chuckled. "Come on, I bet you'll look just fine. Besides, what else have you got? And don't say your archaeology clothes."

"I can wear my boots, at least." Rick brightened. "Right?"

"Right." Evie laced up her own sensible oxfords. Mrs. Bythell had packed all of her most elegant clothes, and the shoes were freshly polished. "Come on, darling, I'm starving. Put the knickerbockers on and let's go have breakfast."

Rick sighed and acquiesced. The knickerbocker suit was extremely well-tailored in a gorgeous grey herringbone wool, and with the jacket on, Rick looked fantastic. Evie told him so as she straightened his tie and tried to suppress her smile.

"Swap out the jacket for a jumper later and you'll look like a polo player."

Rick snarled. Evie laughed all the way down to breakfast.

[raith-way]

Scenes I’ll (Probably) Never Write [001/???] Fic: Memento Vivere

When Rick strolled down the dirt and gravel path leading into Belle Reve, wearing his ridiculous church suit that absolutely did not accentuate the width of his shoulders at all, Rev was perched on the high wall next to the main gate and letting her feet swing through the thick humid air. Sunglasses hid her gaze and her head was tipped up towards the endless blue sky, so Rick had no idea that she was watching every moment of his slow approach. The fingers of his right hand were twitching, quick ticking curls, like when he wanted a gun in his hand. Probably thinking of ripping his tie off. Meeting with the big bosses was a hazard of being team leader, and Rev was grateful that she was merely his second-in-command. Tasked with guarding the inmates while he had to defend their actions in the field.

“The hell ‘re you doin’ up there?” The drawled words reached her before he did, and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide her wince. Rick’s slow angry drawl only came out when he was especially pissed, so it must not have been a pleasant meeting. Rev didn’t see what the big deal was. It wasn’t like anyone important had died, and the property damage had been contained. Eventually.

“Just waiting on you, o’ fearless leader.” The usual tease only earned her a very impressive scowl, and she tried not to focus on how Rick’s face was level with her knees. Or how her thighs had parted the slightest bit as he got closer. Or on the way the muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked up at her from between her knees. Fuck it. Thinking inappropriate thoughts about her kind-of boss was pretty much her second job these days. No one should look that good while scowling, just like she shouldn’t think about how easy it would be to sling her legs over his shoulders and pull him in. “What’s a’matter, Colonel? Couldn’t make any headway with the other suits?”

“Classified, Revnic.” She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see and then bared her teeth in a grin to get her emotions across; shit-damn-fuck, he looked even better with that soft smile bracketed by her thighs. “What did you make today?”

Rev thought of Boomer’s flaming pant leg, Floyd’s screams as Boomer ran after him while yelling for someone to put out the fire, and Harley’s enthusiastic cheering of Boomer’s new origin story for his fire powers. The burns on her palms had healed, but she’d bet Boomer’s left slightly charred nut that Briggs was still crying in the corner of his office. Rev looked away from Rick’s shoulders brushing the insides of her knees and his tempting mouth, found a cloud overhead that looked like a unicorn, and sighed dramatically like a Hollywood starlet looking longingly out of a window.

“Mistakes.” Clearly, making flaming sambuca shots were not on the approved criminal exercises list for a reason. Rev sighed one last time and prepared to face Rick’s wrath at finding the scorch marks inside the prison. On the plus side, Rick looked downright sinful when he was lecturing her. She could probably get him so worked up that he’d strip the suit jacket off and muss up his meeting-combed hair. So she looked down to let her sunglasses slip down her nose and looked him right in the eye as she repeated, “So many mistakes. Fire mistakes.”

one-two-three

“Goddammit, Rev! How many times do I have to tell you—”

“He only uses my name when he’s yelling,” she thought as the tirade picked up volume. “Fucking glorious.”

Tagging: @jinxsflame @hughstheforcelou @uno-reverse-reversed @hiddenqveendom @asirensrage @ocfairygodmother

[pollylynn]

Title: Devisal WC: 2000 Episode: Knockout (3 x 24)

What will she give to this? The thing she walked away from. The thing that gave chase. The thing she has since turned on and bared her teeth, her claws, but what will she give to this?

Time.

This has been the answer for weeks. It has been the answer for months.

She fetches down her mother’s ring from its nail behind the shutters, from the place where it stands watch among the photos, the ragged-edged news clippings, the tight scrawl of her own writing. She begins a new thicket of hash marks—sixteen weeks today. Sixteen times she has fetched down her mother’s ring.

She fetches her mother’s ring from its tucked away place inside her jacket, from where it nestles as close to her body as she can bear these days. She fetches it out and stares as it catches the sallow fluorescent light, as she waits for the buzzer to make the cage sting out. The tiny stone flickers with all its might, urgent as an SOS. The chain hisses against itself as the ring spins. It winds. It unwinds.

She mechanically thanks one guard—a different one each week. A different one much of the time? She’s not sure. There’s only the wait for the buzzer, the cage singing out. There is only the ring with its frantic shower of minute sparks.

And then there is the dance with the man beyond the cage. The man inside is a constant. Ryker. She knows his name. She doesn’t know his name. Now slides past then. This time swaps places with last time—with the last fifteen times. Time is what she gives. This is what she gets, a street punk’s game of Three-Card Monte. Find the Lady. Find the Lady.

She knows the man inside, but he does not know her. What will she give to this? Nothing of herself. Nothing of who she is. This is the bargain she has struck.

She grits her teeth. Officer Ryker, she says, and maybe it’s pleasant. Maybe it’s not. Either way, He has a smile at the ready and a lame joke teed up—today it’s a serial arsonist, an armed robber. For her part, there is the polite laugh. When did that start, she wonders? How much time trickled to the bottom of the hourglass before this became their version of Hi, honey, how was your day?

He—Officer Ryker—puts the kettle on, as it were. He dials up the next man inside, some other faceless inconstant, she thinks. A different one each week. A different one much of the time? Ryker rattles off Hal Lockwood’s prisoner ID from memory.

He does not know her. He has never asked why she comes, who Lockwood is to her, what it is she comes in search of, week after week. He simply does everything she does, backwards in uniform-issue shoes.

This is before, though. This is the fifteen times before, and time is suddenly not enough.

*******************

What will she give to this? The thing that has come for her at last. The thing that has the audacity to tell her that she is not predator, but prey. What is it now that she will she give?

A fucking show.

She blocks Castle’s apologies, his empathy, his pity, like so many blows raining down in the chaos of a bar brawl. She knocks him off balance. She makes a point of how off-kilter they are—how out of the loop he is. It’s all part of the show. He’s sorry about McCallister’s execution? He must not have the faintest idea what she’s been doing for all these weeks, all these months. McCallister’s murder goes in the win column. It’s the paper trail of her dreams. It’s Christmas in May.

Stricken by this, wounded and terrified, by her and for her, he still musters up the courage to point out that Lockwood’s cage is unlikely to rattle? She shows him her back. She struts away at speed, tossing revelations over her shoulder: Lockwood is the B-plot. He is nothing but a drop-kick lapdog. She’s going after the king of the beasts, armed with a chair and a whip.

And that’s all just Act I.

Act II. Interior: Bullpen. She is in constant motion. She she raps out unnecessary orders. The boys are on the case of who ordered Lockwood’s transfer. They are on the tail-chasing mission of trying to find something—anything—on the courtroom impostors. They are on the chopper and recordings of Lockwood’s calls. They are on the job of stating the obvious—say hello to Charlie and Mike: She is Lockwood’s next target, and that suits her just fine.

But it’s a plot twist. It’s an uproar. It’s a red herring? Maybe it’s a red herring.

Everyone’s blood runs cold when the Captain points out that she’d have already been dead on the courtroom floor if it were her back with a target painted on it. There’s no pause for a dramatic musical cue. Castle is on his feet. He is on exposition duty, desperate to change the narrative. his hands fly across the murder board, swapping file photos from slot to slot to slot until the letters that sprawl across each one to spell out deceased become nothing but a blur. Find the lady. Find the lady.

Her eyes are locked on her mother’s picture, the one fixed point she can find amid the frenetic show-time energy. Her ring is missing. The shutters and the nail that tips its head toward the ceiling are nowhere to be found. There is no shower of tiny sparks and no hiss of the chain against itself as it winds, unwinds, winds again.

.

And still, she’s putting on a show. They are putting on a show, and this is how it happens.

What will she give to this? Every poor player among them, piece by piece. Now. This is what she will give.

*******************

What will she give to this? The ravenous, undying thing that winds itself around her and drops its venom in her ear. There is no question of predator and prey now, there is only who she has been and this undying thing, entwined. The words of Gary McCallister, of Hal Lockwood bubble up—So much bigger than you realize. You can’t hide from him. These, whispers the ravenous, undying thing, are the only true words ever spoken. And for this truth, to this truth, what will she give?

Her mind. Her heart. The twanging snip of threads that have bound her to life—to everything other than this. She will give in. That is what she will give.

It begins in the hangar. It begins with the chopper, scrubbed down, reeking of bleach, looming. It begins with one pathetic bullet hole. Details swirl in the air—stolen, hedge fund, the Caribbean. Wherever her feet land, wherever her shoulders try to straighten themselves, the shadow of the hulking bird presses down on her. This is the metaphor.

Why now?

The question is hers. It is not hers. It is the slither and hiss of threads untangling in her mind, though her voice—out in the world—sounds normal. It sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing to ask, and he shrugs. He calculates exactly the gesture, his tone, the glance delivered on an oblique angle. He is wary. He is managing her.

Time, planning, resources, he says, and every molecule of air in that hangar thrums with black suspicion.

What if it was something else?

There is is again, the slither and hiss. What if it was him? That’s what the ravenous, undying thing wants to know.

I will do anything that you need, including nothing, if that's what you want.

What kind of fool believes that, when he’s standing there, perfectly at home next to a two-million-dollar toy,? He gives a makes sense, yeah, that’ll happen nod as Esposito explains the owner might never have even realized the fucking bird was gone without her one pathetic shot dimpling its tail.

Makes sense, he nods, and what kind idiot would never think to wonder what strings he has been pulling since Dick Coonan, since John Raglan, since she was pathetic enough, needy enough to name him someone she trusts? She lives with his ego, day in and day out. She lives with his savior complex, and what if it was him who set all this in motion?

That’s it. That’s it. The frantic blur of bent plastic cards comes to an end. Find the Lady.

She gives in. She lets the black suspicion rear up and bare its fangs, and when he comes to her—when he dares come to her as though he knows her—she strikes.

What about you, Rick?

Is that what we are?

We are over.

And just like that, she is free. She is swallowed whole. She floats, weightless, in the black.

She gives in.

*********************

What will she give to this? What has she given to this?

Her family. The one she has built. The one that has built itself around her. The one that lies in ruins at her feet, because she let this thing blot out everything else in existence.

What has she given to this that she can never reclaim?

A decade and more of her life, spent in hiding—spent behind the cheap plastic mask of a heroine, an avenging angel, a dutiful daughter, a warrior. There is the twanging snip of a frayed elastic band, the almost silent fall of an unconvincing disguise falling, falling.

What is left to her—of her—after all she has given to this?

Nothing.

That is the slither and hiss again. That is cowardice that will not see the shower of tiny sparks, that will not heed the urgent SOS sent out by what little of her mother she can carry with her.

And she does carry her mother with her on this day of days. She wears the delicate links of chain next to her skin, beneath the suffocating weight of her dress uniform. She feels her heart beating, beating, beating, against the solid circle of it. She feels unworthy of it. She knows she is unworthy of it. But she carries her mother with her on this day of days. She heeds that urgent message at last.

What is left of her—to her—after all she has thrown on the pyre? Not nothing.

There is a sea of stalwart shoulders around her, bowed by grief that is hers, that is theirs, that is a terrible weight shared among them. There is a sea of tear-streaked faces brave enough to seek the sun, even now. There is a sea of warriors and dutiful daughters, of shining examples, giving and receiving grace. There is a wordless chorus that knocks around the hollow remains of her mind, her heart, as if to say This is how it’s done. This is how we mourn. Together. This is how.

This is what bravery is—to hear them. This is what is righteous and healing—to be a shoulder, a face, a spark of grace, given and received.

What is left?

He is left. She is left. They are left, despite her craven pronouncements, despite his lies of omission and barbed-wire truths. They are left.

She speaks this into being. A tremulous, unfamiliar voice that seems to be hers speaks this unassailable fact into being.

You find someone to stand with you.

It is a beginning. Not a harvest, but a tentative vision for what might grow here. It is not a question. Not yet. She is still in pieces. He is still in ruins. They are still dragon’s teeth, scattered on still-smoking ground, waiting to be human. Waiting to see if they can be human, alone and together.

But still, it is a beginning—a nascent question: What can she take from this?

A/N: So. After taking on a spur-of-the-moment, enormous editing project with a tight deadline, There was total lack of morphousness until 3 AM. Sprawling, writhing lack of morphousness that was only half of this. So I had to add a second half of absolute absence of morphousness this morning, obviously. OBVIOUSLY.

images via homeofthenutty

[twdeadfanfic]

Silence Pt.2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Request for a deaf reader. Between season 2 and 3. After getting captured trying to hunt the men that raided her camp and killed her people, reader is rescued by Daryl, Glenn and Maggie, who take her with them and to their camp, and soon, reader is going to be surprised to find that the man witht he crossbow, who at first she deemed someone dangerous to keep an eye on, is rather shy and awkward around her, but sweet in his way too, and she can’t help but want to get to know him more.

Chapters: 2/8

You can find a lic to my masterlist with more of my fics in the main page of this tumblr.

You woke up the next morning when the sun began to rise, safe and sound, nobody had killed you in your sleep. You felt bad for having thought such thing about the kind people who had taken you in, but you’d learned that in this world, it was risky to trust people blindly. 

You sat up and looked around. Some were awake, some were still asleep. Rick seemed to be patrolling around, looking at you when he noticed you sitting up. You wrote in your notebook what you wanted to tell him and then you got up and walked towards him, showing him the page.

“Thanks for taking me in. I understand why you don’t trust me. Last time I trusted someone my people died. But your friends saved me and I’ll help you all as much as I can” 

Rick nodded  and took the notebook. “They told me. I’m sorry about your people.” He gave you the notebook back and walked away. You weren’t sure if you were making progress or not at getting him to warm up to you, you hoped he’d see you were trustworthy.  

You saw Daryl approaching and you gave him a smile. He looked down and nodded. He opened his mouth as if to say something but didn’t, and for a second you thought he was going to take the notebook but he lowered the hand he’d lifted. It seemed he wasn’t sure of what to do or how to behave with you. You were confused, but you also thought he was kind of cute, different from the first idea you had gotten of him. 

Finally he looked at you, raising his eyebrows and pointing at your arm bandage and neck bruises before signing what was almost an ‘okay’ but not quite. You nodded, repeating the okay sign both to reply to his question and to show him again how the sign was done. He frowned and did it again, this time perfectly, and you nodded and grinned.  Daryl reached out as if to take the notebook but he seemed hesitant, and so you gave it to him. 

“Hurt?” He wrote down and you took the notebook to write, “not much. Nothing I can’t handle. Thanks to you all.” Daryl just shrugged shyly and when you gave him a smile he looked away…he really could be cute.

He took the notebook again and wrote down “You need something?” passing you the notebook back and chewing on his lips, averting his eyes from you before catching himself and looking at you again so he could see your answer.

You shook your head but then something came to your mind, and you wrote down, “I think Rick doesn’t trust me. I understand it. But I wish he did.” Daryl nodded, taking the notebook to write, “he will.” You took the notebook again. “How you know you can trust me?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Daryl just shrugged, looking down as if shy, but then he looked at you so you could read his lips. “Just do,” he mouthed, shrugging again, and you grinned at him. Whatever it was that made Daryl think you were trustworthy, you were grateful for it. A small, crocked smile tugged at Daryl’s lip, and he reached out to squeeze your shoulder before walking towards Rick.

*

Soon, you all got going to the place where Glenn wanted to go scavenging. Carol got behind Daryl on his bike, and you went with Glenn, Maggie, Beth and Hershel on their car, driving for a couple of hours. You stopped the vehicles at distance from where you could see the shopping mall, smaller than you all had thought, but from a safe distance in case there were walkers around. 

You tried to understand what everyone was saying as they made plans. Glenn, Maggie, Daryl and Rick would go check the mall while the others stayed behind, T-Dog and Carol on watch duty to make sure no walker got too close to the cars. Rick also thought that if the mall was safe enough, maybe you could spend there a few days. Notebook in hand, you approached Rick. 

“I’ll help,” you wrote down and Rick arched a brow at you, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if take offense.  “I’ve put down walkers before. I can aim and shoot. I can stab them too.” You had made sure to learn how to fight walkers as soon as possible, knowing that you needed it to survive. You rather didn’t fight them, the monsters were strong, and you’d rather put them down from away, but still, you could fight if needed, if it wasn’t a group of those things.

Rick was still just frowning at you and so you took your gun from the holster, shaking it in front of his face. “Don’t got bullets. Give me one. I’ll prove it to you.” You scribbled grumpily, almost pushing the notebook in Rick’s face in your hustle, frowning at him. Rick arched his eyebrow again, but he smirked, shrugging and mouthing an okay.

He gave you more than one bullet, though, enough for your charger, and also a silencer, which was welcomed but rather unexpected, and you smiled at him. He nodded and gestured to everyone to get going. Daryl walked near you, tugging at your elbow to get your attention, and then he signed you an okay to which you nodded. You wanted to be useful and prove to these people that you were trustworthy, and that you weren’t useless even though they had to rescue you.

As you approached the mall you were overwhelmed by the stench of dead and rottenness. Your were on alter, but soon you realized it didn’t come from walkers, but from the half rotten, dead bodies on the ground. You all looked at each other but kept walking anyway, walking into the mall through a broken crystal door. If you were to stay there, you should fix that. 

You were welcomed by an even more intense smell, half-rotten and half-eaten corpses everywhere. It seemed a big group of people had taken refuge in there and had ended badly. You didn’t know about the others, but you didn’t feel like staying there, even if you were able to clean all the mess and fix the doors. 

It seemed Rick, Daryl, Maggie and Glenn were used to work the four together, and they were already dividing into pairs to check the area. Rick turned to you as if remembering you were there, and signaled to you to follow him and Daryl.  

As you followed them, you noticed two walkers munching on a corpse in one of the aisles, its back to you. You had to walk near them, and so you decided it could be time to prove your worth, or at least, that you could shoot when needed, and so you aimed your gun, pressed the trigger, and one of the walkers dropped dead.

The other one turned its head to look at you, but before you could shoot again, an arrow embedded into its forehead. You turned around and saw Rick looking at you, Daryl next to him with his crossbow, lowering it and walking to retrieve the arrow. You signed him a thanks and went to follow him, but Rick tugged at your elbow so you looked at him, passing him your notebook when he pointed at your pocket.

“You can shoot,” he wrote down and you rolled your eyes. “Told you so,” you wrote back, and Rick said nothing, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you. Maybe he was warming up to you? You had no idea, you hoped so, but you also hoped he stopped thinking you couldn’t do anything. Daryl was looking back at you both, noticing you weren’t following, and he asked something that seemed a “What?” Both Rick and you shook your heads and walked to him.

As you kept checking the place you found more corpses on the ground, blood everywhere. The place seemed almost emptied too, as if it had been raided. You had thought those people had been killed by walkers, but now you wondered if maybe they hadn’t been murdered by other people who wanted their stuff. It was too horrible to think. 

When you found some aisles with clothes you pocked Rick’s shoulder to catch his attention and signaled from you to the shelves, you wanted to check the clothes, maybe find you something more suited for the cold weather than what you were wearing. You missed the heavy shawl you had lost when you fled your camp and that had been your sister’s. 

Rick and Daryl exchanged a couple of sentences you couldn’t understand, they talked fast and without looking at you, and then Rick began walking towards another part of the mall while Daryl stayed with you. You guessed Rick would be good alone, and signed from Daryl to one of the clothes aisles and from you to the other, so he’d check one while you checked the other. He seemed hesitant for a second, but then he nodded. 

As you walked down the aisle you grew more and more disappointed, there was almost nothing left and the sizes weren’t good for you. You took some trousers, the material felt warm and the waist was elastic, so you hoped they’d suit you. You kept looking around, trying to see if there was anything else that you thought could be good for any of your new friends.  

You found a couple of jackets that would be better for the cold than your thin shirt. One of the jackets was definitely too small, and you tried the other one but it was too tight on your arms, you couldn’t move them freely, but you took it anyway, maybe it could suit Beth. 

You looked around and noticed Daryl trying to catch your attention. You walked to him and he handed you a long coat made of warm, gray wool. You gave Daryl a grateful smile and signed him a thanks before trying on the coat. It was bigger than your size, but you loved how the material felt and how warm it was. You nodded to Daryl, grinning, and he nodded back, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. You thought it was the first time you saw him smile. It suited him. 

You were again alone, checking a shelf, though you knew that Daryl wasn’t far, when something grabbed you hard. You gasped, turning fast and grabbing the walker in time so it wouldn’t bite you, struggling to hold it just with one hand so you could stab it, but then the walker was being pulled away from you. You realized it was Daryl, dragging the walker back, but before he could put it down or the walker could struggle, you rushed and sank your knife into its head.

You were panting, looking from the corpse to Daryl, who was looking at you with wide, worried eyes. “Are you okay?!” You were pretty sure he said, before he caught himself and signed you an okay, to which you nodded, trying to calm down. Daryl arched an eyebrow, looking over you, and so you nodded again.

You lifted your hand to clean your knife when you noticed a tear on the shelve of your new coat. Damn it. You frowned, taking the notebook to write down your annoyment, “it ripped my new coat.” You showed it to Daryl and he took the notebook from your hand “better the coat than you.” He was still looking at you worriedly and you nodded, giving him a small smile before signing him thanks. Daryl nodded back at you, reaching to squeeze your shoulder before turning to keep checking the shelves.

You chewed on your lip before deciding to tug at Daryl’s vest. He turned to look at you questioningly and you began to write, angling the notebook so he could read while you wrote. “I promise I’m not useless,” you wrote down, looking at him a bit embarrassed, and Daryl frowned at you. “Second time you have to help me…”

Daryl shook his head, taking the notebook from your hand. “You are not useless.” You looked at him doubtfully, unsure if he was being honest, and Daryl tapped the notebook with the pen before writing again. “You can shoot. Got good aim. Grabbed that walker right too.” His handwritten was getting rushed, but you got it, and you smiled at him, nodding and signing him a thanks. Daryl nodded back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he reached to squeeze your shoulder before pushing at you gently to walk beside him.

By the time you went to find Rick again, you both were carrying an assortment of mismatched gloves, hats and scarves, along with a couple of oversized shirts that you hoped would suit almost everyone. Rick had with him a bag with a big camping tent and you wondered who would be the ones using it, his family you guessed. He also had found more wire, rope, and some boxes of matches. 

You three met with Glenn and Maggie at the main doors. They had gone through the drug store and judging by how disappointed they looked, they didn’t seem to have found much. There hadn’t been antibiotics or disinfectant left, or nothing like that, just some packages of band-aids, bandages and gauze, and a more than welcome little first aid kit. 

Back with the others, Rick explained how you couldn’t stay in the mall and that you’d keep camping in the woods until you found something. You got an idea, but you weren’t sure it’d work. Taking the notebook, you wrote what you wanted to say to Rick and you approached him

“My group and I lived in a warehouse, few hours drive from where you found me. When the men attacked us they drew walkers to the place, but maybe they left?” 

“Maybe”, Rick said, seeming thoughtful, before taking the notebook. “We could try. We could get there before the sundown?” He wrote down. You weren’t sure, you had left it walking, not by car, and you signed him a maybe. “We’ll check it tomorrow”, Rick wrote before going to tell everyone else the idea. 

You saw Daryl leaving, getting further into the woods, and you guessed he was going hunting. You wished you had remembered to set a trap before going to the mall, maybe you could have hunt something. You watched as Rick got out the camping tent, but instead of getting it ready, he began to cut it until he had some long pieces of fabric that then he began tying to the trees, and you realized it’d make the cold wind hit your camp less hard, as long as it wasn’t too strong. Smart. 

That night you dinned on squirrel stew, sitting down around the campfire, and once again you began reviewing and teaching sings with Carol and Maggie. You noticed Daryl looking at you, but he didn’t join you. That night you took first watch with Rick, which you guessed was a sign of trust on his side, and as you patrolled the area, he had you explain him everything about your old camp and the warehouse, and you hoped it wasn’t still invaded by walkers. 

With the sunrise, you all got going, arriving at your camp by late afternoon. You could smell the dead, and soon you saw some walkers roaming around, but not enough to be a threat, you could overpower them, and you all got ready to fight. 

You shot at a couple of walkers, before getting your knife and putting down one that was approaching. You went to put down another, but as you looked at him, you realized it’d been one of your friends before, now dead and reaching for you. You froze in place and it grabbed you, growling, trying to bite you, so you put it down, feeling sick to your stomach. 

You saw Maggie running to you, and she reached out to squeeze your hand, mouthing a “you okay?” You nodded, eyes trained on the dead walker. Maggie signaled from you to the walker, looking at you with sad eyes as she seemed to realize what had happened. You nodded, blinking quickly, trying not to cry. 

You couldn’t stop your tears from falling, though, when you looked around at the dead walkers and half-eaten corpses that lied on the ground. Some were the men that had attacked you, but the others were your people. Carol approached you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into her, grateful. Everyone was looking at you, seeming sorry, and Rick took the notebook to write down. 

“We dig some graves. We bury them.”

You nodded and signed him a thanks, rubbing your eyes, you didn’t want to keep crying.  

Before burying your dead, you all checked the warehouse. Walkers hadn’t gotten in, and you could keep staying in there. Most of your group supplies were still there, the men hadn’t had time to take them as they ran away from the walkers. 

“Take what you need,” you wrote down, and Rick signed you thanks before squeezing your shoulder. You nodded to him and went to check your stuff. Your few clothes were there, all more appropriate for summer than for autumn and winter, though you had a shirt less thin than the one you’d been wearing. You also found your compass, which had been a gift from one of your now dead friends, a book, a few pens and your small notebook, that you could fit in the pocket of your shirt.  

Your sister’s shawl was there too, much to your relief, and you took off your new coat to wrap the shawl around you, as if it could bring you some comfort, almost as a hug, even though it had lost your sister’s scent long ago and had a couple of holes now. 

Once you went outside again, Rick and some of the others had covered the bodies with some fabric, and you were grateful for it. You realized that you didn’t have any shovel to dig the graves, you thought you had one but it was nowhere to be seen, and when you told Rick it seemed like he didn’t know what to do, so you decided you’d just burn the bodies. Rick and the others seemed to think it wasn’t good enough, but you shrugged. Your friends had been practical people, and you were sure they wouldn’t care about what happened to what was left of their bodies, they weren’t in there anymore, those were just dead bodies. They didn’t even look like themselves anymore. 

Besides, it wasn’t that different from cremation, and lots of people used to do that in the world before. You told yourself that as you got all the bodies together and ready, helped by Rick, T-Dog and Daryl. You couldn’t stop your tears again, and you were grateful nobody said anything. Daryl did look at you, opening and closing his mouth as if he were to say something, but he didn’t. 

As they burned, you felt Maggie’s hand holding yours. Your tears kept falling, but you were grateful for those people, who had taken you in and treated you as one of their own despite having known you for only a couple of days. The fire attracted a couple of walkers, but Daryl put them down before they could get close. 

Your new friends were practical people too, and so once the bodies had burned, they had paid their respects and gave you their condolences, everyone began to work on different chores. Daryl went hunting and you went a bit further into the woods too to set a trap.  

Back in the warehouse, you helped the others to move their things in, assorting everything along with what was already there. Some first aid-kits, some cans of food, some jars with water from the nearby river…you were pretty sure you would be good there for a while. Rick looked around at everything and grinned at you, signing you thanks. You guessed he must have been pretty stressed that month on the go without a place to settle down, considering he’d a small kid and Lori was pregnant. It was a bit comforting, to know that at least you could help those people. 

They seemed a bit reluctant to go through your late friends belongings, as if they thought it might upset or anger you, but trying to be practical, you began sorting clothes, trying to see what could suit them, even though most of them weren’t warm enough for the winter that was coming in less than a couple months, you thought. It was hard to keep the track of seasons. 

Once that was done, the sun was starting to go down and you went to check your trap. Nothing. You let out a disappointed sigh, frowning at the trap. Turning around, you noticed Daryl walking out of the woods and looking at you, a rabbit and some squirrels hanging from his belt. He hesitated for a moment but then approached you. 

Daryl opened his mouth as if to say something but didn’t, reached out as if to take the notebook that peeked out of your coat’s pocket but neither did he grab it. You cocked your head at him. He still didn’t seem to know how to approach you or talk to you, and you’d have taken offense if it weren’t because you also found it a bit cute how he seemed not to know how to act around you. You thought you had been right thinking he was shy.  

He was just standing there, frowning, before pointing at the trap and then signing an okay. You didn’t really understand what he meant, since you hadn’t caught anything, if maybe he thought it was a good trap or what. You raised your eyebrows at him, confused, and he reached out as if to take the notebook from your pocket but stopped midway, and so you took it out and handed it to him. 

“Not your fault. We scared the game with the fire and noise.” He wrote down, and you nodded, giving him a small smile. Maybe he was right, you decided to let the trap there to see if you had caught something in the morning. Daryl nodded to you awkwardly and walked to the warehouse. You saw him sitting down on the stairs as he began to get the rabbit ready for cooking. 

You looked at Carol, who was sat down sorting some clothes. You were pretty sure she was Daryl’s best friend, along with Rick, probably. She and Daryl were always close, you’d seen them talking to each other, keeping watch together, and stuff like that. You approached her, sat down next to her, and took your notebook to write. 

“I think Daryl doesn’t know how to talk to me?” Or maybe it was just that he actually didn’t like you…but you didn’t think that, he’d been checking on you, helping you out, had tried to make you feel better a couple of times already, had thought on you when he saw the warm coat, had learned a couple of signs…he’d been actually quite nice to you, now that you thought about it. 

Carol smiled, seeming amused, but also her smile was so fond that you couldn’t help your own. “Daryl doesn’t know how to talk to most people. Difficult for him to get used to them”, she wrote down. “He’s better at it now. He’s gone through stuff. But he’s a good man.”  

You nodded and smiled to her. Yeah, yeah, you thought he was. On his own, shy and awkward yet cute way. 

*

We had more Daryl trying to interact with reader, a run, and now a somewhat safe place. What did you think? If you liked it, please let me know your thoughts.

As always, excuse my english, is not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[witchiswriting]

A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 3

Summary: Negan has some ugly revelations on his path

Warnings: Angst ( Lots of it), Mentions of Infidelity, Swearing, Mentions of death

Author’s Note: This chapter was pretty hard for me to write. I tried to explain everything about his past at once. And, you don’t know what it’s coming for you guys. Please don’t kill me after this chapter lmao

‘’What?’’ Negan slurred. That was the only thing that could come out from his mouth at the moment.

Shock surrounded his whole body. He literally had no idea where he was, or what fucking was The Sanctuary. The room was definitely his style, except for mounted animals. He’d never been a fan of dead animals on the walls. However, Lilith would fucking despise this room and that was the reason why he hadn’t furnished theirs with dark furniture.

He blinked several times before taking a full glance at the man who was standing before him. Funny enough, Negan knew the man very well. He was his childhood best friend Simon, they grew up together and Simon was a bartender in the same small town. Long story short, he died in a terrible car accident three years ago and naturally, Negan hasn’t seen the man since then, but at the very moment Simon was standing in front of him, very much alive and a stressful expression on his face.

''That’s odd'' Negan mused.

It was evident that Simon was tired and, maybe, little bit scared… It was strange, though, cause no matter how intimidating Negan was Simon was one of the few people who was never afraid of him. The others were Rick and Lilith but Negan quickly pushed the thought of them off his mind.

Simon cleared his throat, waiting for to find the right words. Negan hasn’t been himself since that horrific day but he did never forget where he was before. It was new and very much worrying for Simon.

‘’Negan, I know that you don’t wanna fucking remember or acknowledge what had happened a month ago, but you need to find a way to get yourself together. This place needs you.’’ Simon spoke with a soft, caring tone. He knows that his boss, best friend is hurting nevertheless, but, also he is very much needed. There's no way Simon could run The Sanctuary without Negan and, to be honest, he is worried for his friend’s mental health too. It isn’t like they could afford a psychologist these days.

Negan slowly got up from the bed without saying another word to Simon. He was wearing the grey sweatpants and white t-shirt he wore last night just before going to the bed in his own room.

He slowly moved the curtains aside and took a quick glance from window. The view had him shocked. There were lifeless, rotten corpses chained to the fence of the building and a few men with prisoner suits triying to tie them down.

Where the fuck was he? If this was a nightmare then it was, for sure the most horrific and unpleasant one.

‘’What the fuck are they doing?’’ Negan said with a loud voice. It wasn’t his intention to sound angry towards his friend but he couldn’t help it.

Simon was watching the same scenery from window. Though, unlike his friend, it was a pretty usual scene for him.

‘’You ordered for the remained Alexandrians to deal with the biters as a first thing in the morning, boss.’’ Simon shrugged his shoulders and explained like there was nothing wrong with it.

Negan furrowed his brows. His face was frowned. ‘’Biters?’’ He asked with a genuine confused voice.

Simon took a deep breath before his next words. He slowly put his hand on Negan’s shoulder as a supporting manner. ‘’Look, Negan. I know you’re suffering and I wish we could go back in time and make things right but, as you can fucking see, that’s not the case. Locking yourself in that mind of yours and trying to forget everything might have seemed a better choice but it’s not. You have to move on.’’ He was watching Negan with almost pitying eyes.

‘’Plus, Rick the Prick has started to be a pain in the ass. You need to take care of him, too.’’ Simon stated.

Rick? If he’s in this shit hole then, maybe he knows what the actual fuck is going on too.

Negan nodded towards his best friend, licking his lips. ‘’Okay. Fucking wait outside while I put on decent fucking clothes then.’’

Simon turned and left the room just like an obedient dog.

An inanimate object caught his eye. A barbed wired baseball bat is just standing beside his wardrobe. It had a few scratches on it, but other than that the bat looked fine and, well, deadly. Probably it’s a fucking weapon for dealing with the moving corpses.

As Negan went through the drawers he couldn’t help but think about the one person he needed at the moment.

Lilith… Maybe it was all her doing, since she was always talking about witchy stuff he hadn’t believed nor given a second thought. What if it was his punishment for breaking her heart?

‘’Bull-fucking-shit.’’ He muttered under his breath. Negan wasn’t an illogical person. Of course, he believed in things like religion, and he considered himself a believer. He wasn’t religious or something but he understood the religion, at least the logical parts of it.

I’m trying to rationalize this fucking hell hole with irrational things. He told himself.

But when he opened the drawer he met his very own clothes. Bunch of white shirts he loved so much and his one and only leather jacket, and lots of black shirts.

‘’You fucking kidding me?!’’ He roared with an uncontrollable anger. He was rubbing his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He dressed hastily and got out of the room with heavy, rushed steps. His heart was pounding in his stomach.

Simon watched him with a concerned glance. Thinking about if he should inform him about the absence of his precious bat, probably he forgot to take it and considering his commitment to the object, he decided to tell Negan.

‘’Boss, I see you’re pretty preoccupied today. You left Lucille in the room.’’ Simon said in a humoristic way. Trying to hide his worries with a reassuring smile.

WHAT THE FUCK FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK?

Negan’s face fell instantly. He felt the blood in his veins going cold. His already pale and tired face became paler in seconds. He could feel the wave of nausea  washing him.

‘’What the fuck did you just say?’’ He tried to sound firm but failed miserably. He could barely speak and his voice was shaky.

Simon was shocked. His friend had never spent a day without Lucille by his side, but, apparently the latest events had Negan shook more than Simon had cared to admit. So, he took a deep breath and decided to drop asking about the famous bat. ‘’Let’s get you something to eat first, then we’ll take care of everything else.’’ He put his hand on Negan’s shoulder with a soothing manner.

As they started to walk in long, dim hallway Negan tried to convince himself that this wasn’t happening for real, it was just a dream, a fucking trick of his drunk mind, but, unfortunately he couldn’t bring himself to believe that the place wasn’t real.

He meant to ask Simon what was going on and what he fucking exactly meant by ‘’Lucille’’, but he was already feeling so goddamn tired, and he shouldn't scare Simon if he wants to get out of this place.

‘’You’re quiet, boss. Care to share your thoughts?’’ Simon interrupted in an attempt to collect the attention of Negan.

Negan closed his eyes for a second and tried to sound normal to his death but somehow alive friend. If he wanted to know about where he fucking was then he had to play by the rules.

‘’So many things but I’m just feeling fucking tired and goddamn hungry, y’know.’’ He dropped the words with an uninterested tone.

As two men walked towards the stairs they passed by a grand wooden doored room. The door was open, so, Negan forced himself to look the other way. He didn’t want to come face to face with anybody else, especially if the person was someone he knew. He didn’t know if he could take it. What if Lilith was in there? But, he caught glimpse of an enormous crystal chandelier and shiny shelves filled with alcohol.

Despite his efforts to avoid the parlor a petite, feminine form slightly moved and caught his attention.

‘’Negan?’’ A soft, almost afraid feminine voice was heard in the empty hallway.

When Negan turned around he couldn’t recognize the blonde immediately but felt a strange familiarity.

I’M IN FUCKING HELL.

The blonde was twirling with her long hair. She had a concerned expression on her pretty face. Her baby blue eyes were wide with curiosity and hesitation.

Negan tried to remember the blonde’s name. It had to be something like Amanda or Amber.

Amber… She was one of the women Negan had cheated on Lucille with. He met her during one of his team’s matches. She was the sister of one of his students, and he fucked her in that particular evening on the benches. They had fooled around for a few times but she had become clingy over time and made herself believe in stuff like he was going to left Lucille for her. So, he had put her away like the trinkot she was and looked ahead for his fair share of women.

Negan’s throat was closing up. He could feel his stomach dropping and cold sweat was running down from his back. If hell is real then it is this exact place.

‘You’ve been avoiding us for a month… I wanted to know if you’re okay, y’know, if we can help.’’ She said with the same calm and hopeful tone Negan had known back then.

We? What the fuck is we?

Without thinking Negan walked towards to the parlor and felt a delicious horror with what he has just seen.

Four women, clad in black dress and high heels, looking pretty with their makeup on. And, unfortunately, Negan knew every one of them very well. He had forgotten their names in time but couldn’t forget their faces. He hated them with every cell in his body and they made him hate himself even more. They were the cruel evidence what he had done to the two women he had loved so dearly.

Sherry,

She was the first woman he had cheated on Lucille with. They were neighbors. Sherry lived in the house across from Negan’s, and she was married but, of course, it didn’t stop him. They had an affair going on for at least two or three months.

She had always find Negan attractive and when she came to him he couldn’t find the strength to say no to her. They ended the affair when her husband, Dwight found out.

Tanya, she was a simple lay. Negan met her in a restaurant. She was working as a waitress there and looking forward for a one night stand. He was supposed to book that restaurant for Lucille’s birthday but when he saw the deep V neck blouse Tanya was wearing he immediately forgot about his wife, as always, and took her to the first motel he could find.

They fucked roughly that night and Negan went back to home, to find out that his Lucille had cancer.

And, the redhead, Frankie. He didn’t have to force his mind to remember the details with her cause what had happened with her was recent. She was the first and last woman he cheated on Lilith with.

When he asked Lilith to move in with him she didn’t say yes immediately, like he had imagined. So, they got into a meaningless stupid fight because of his insecurities and he hit the bar that night. Determined to get drunk like an ass but, what he hadn’t planned was fucking the redhead who was giving him come and fuck me eyes for whole night.

He ended up fucking her there and then in the small bar toilet and couldn’t shake the fact that he wasn’t fully drunk while he was fucking her against the wall, making her scream his name over and over. He got mad at Lilith and tried to get revenge on her…

When he came to his senses he was already at his own home, looking at the caller ID of Lilith. Thinking about calling her and telling what he'd done that night but he couldn’t bring himself to do it because he knew that Lilith would never forgive him. She’d leave him in the blink of an eye and never look back.

He wasn’t strong enough to live without her, at least that was what he thought, he had no idea what guilt was gonna make him do back then and he passed out on his couch. Tears on the corners of his eyes and vomit on his lips.

Negan was looking at them but wasn’t able to understand what they were saying to him. All the four women’s mouths were moving but he couldn’t hear them. His ears were pounding so hard that for a moment, he thought he was going to black out. Oh, how that was the only thing he wanted at the moment.

What did him bring back to reality was Sherry’s sickening touch. She was shaking his shoulders gently, trying to tell him something.

‘’Negan, we’re your wives. You can’t neglect us like that.’’ Sherry stated with an unpleasant tone.

‘’GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!’’ Negan roared. His throat was one fire. He was pretty sure that he damaged his vocal cords.

‘’I’m fucking done with you. Get the fuck out. I don’t wanna see any fucking of you ever a-fucking-gain. Get out of my fucking sight before I fucking kill you!’’ He yelled like an animal. His saliva was on the corners of his mouth.

‘’D-do you want me to give you a m-massage? Don’t mind Sherry. I-if you’d like, of course.’’ Frankie asked with a scared voice from the place she was sitting. She was fumbling with her fingers, afraid.

‘’You! Especially you! If you say one fucking more word I’m going to fucking chain you to the fence. Get the fuck out before I come fucking back.’’ Negan yelled the last time and got out of the room, never looking back.

Simon was sweating while trying to catch up with Negan. He hadn’t seen his friend that angry since the day he had slaughtered all of the other communities.

‘’Simon!’’ Negan barked. His hazel colored eyes were almost dark with danger. He was fuming like an animal.

‘’Yes, boss.’’ Simon tried to sound obedient , finally catching up with Negan’s faster than lightning steps.

‘’I want them fucking gone by the end of the day. Do you fucking understand me? I don’t wanna fucking see any of them. If they wouldn’t be gone until tonight, then you’ll be the one to take their punishments. Am I fucking clear?’’ Negan hinted with a dangerous voice.

‘’Yes, sir, boss. Don’t worry.’’ That was the exact thing Simon was afraid of. Having to deal with his wives. They were all bitchy and spoiled. He didn’t know how to remove them from The Sanctuary, but he had to find a way if he wants to live.

Finally, they got to the first floor and Negan found himself in a pool of people. They were clothed badly and he couldn’t say they were living under hygienic circumstances either.

When people realized Negan was there they got on their knees immediately. However, Negan wasn’t in a state to understand why they were kneeling so he began to wander around in hopes to get something to eat and maybe find another familiar face, though, he wasn’t sure if seeing one more person from his prior life is gonna make him feel good.

Simon cleared his throat as an attempt to warn Negan. ‘’Ugh, boss, you need to…’’ He showed the still kneeling people.

He furrowed his brows. He had to tell them to stand up? ‘’Alright, okay. Stand the fuck up. I don’t have whole fucking day.’’

As people stood up the whispers started immediately. All of them were shocked with Negan’s attitude. Sure, he hasn’t been himself lately but he’d never forgotten to tell them ‘’As you were.’’

‘’Umm, boss.’’ Simon nudged Negan’s arm with his elbow. ‘’You always say as you were when you’re ordering people to stand up, but I guess, you’re pretty tired today.’’ Simon said as if people kneeling before Negan wasn’t something important.

Am I a fucking cult leader? Lilith, if it’s your doing then you’re fucking right. I deserve all of this shit.

His hunger and the abominable morning he was having made Negan’s whole body ache. Sure, he also wanted to cry and crash every fucking thing he could find but he, also, wasn’t sure if his mental state and body could take it.

Suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of brownish red locks. The woman’s back was turned and she was wearing a pastel pink flannel. For a moment, he thought about the woman who was occupying his mind, his heart and his whole being but he quickly realized that the woman wasn’t the one he was looking for.

Jane… Lilith’s mother. She was having a chit chat with an older lady. She sounded nice but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she wasn’t happy. Instead, her sadness was dripping on her face. Her bright blue eyes were absent from their usual joy. They were full with a grey melancholy.

Jane was quick to realize that someone was watching her, and that someone was the only person she hated with every fiber in her body.

She abruptly stopped her chit chat with the older lady and turned to Negan. If looks could kill Negan would have been dead by now. Jane was practically throwing daggers at him with her intense glare.

‘’How dare you? How dare you are standing there, living your life after what you’ve done?! Have you no fucking shame? How could you continue to fuck your wives after… a-after.’’ She let out a sob, couldn’t finish her sentence.

The whispers had stopped. All of the people were in silence and shock. They stood there, watching the scene unfold before them.

Negan was stunned. He couldn’t keep himself from thinking that what he had done to Lilith this time… How badly did he hurt her? And wives? He couldn’t touch any other women after that disgusting night full of regret and guilt.

Jane took a deep breath and let the words out from her trembling lips. Her face was shiny from the tears she couldn’t stop. ‘’I fucking hate you. You’d better watch out, Negan.’’ She said his name like it’s a disease.

‘’When I have the chance, and I swear to god, I will. I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m going to fucking bleed you ‘till you go fucking numb and then I’ll kill you. You fucking monster.’’ Jane spit on the ground before turning back and going back to her work.

Negan could feel his heart is squeezing so badly. He immediately left the building and found himself in the yard of The Sanctuary.

He was sweaty and feeling dizzy. Bending, he couldn’t keep it together anymore and threw up his empty stomach, only bile coming out from his mouth.

When he straightened up he found Simon beside him.

He was standing there, unsure of what to do. Negan was being hard on himself and according to Simon’s experiences the day has triggered a panic attack for his boss.

Negan finally caught his breath. His face was dreading colour but he forced himself to be strong. At least, he had to know about Lilith. He had to find her and make this right.

What if he cheated on her with those five women and she saw it, or she was pregnant and she lost it because of him being such a dickhead. Maybe, she was with someone else, trying to be happy and forget him.

To be honest, Negan would be miserable and sad for the rest of his life if Lilith is moved on and happy with someone else, but that was the only thing she had deserved from the beginning. A healthy relationship with a person who loves her and makes her feel loved.

So, Negan took a deep breath and braced himself for what was coming, and asked the inevitable question.

‘’Simon, where is Lilith?’’ His voice was filled with exhaustion, fear and a little bit hope.

Simon didn’t know how to answer this question. He could mince the words and gain some time or left his question unanswered but this would be the cruelest thing for Negan.

In Simon’s mind Negan already knew the answer but apparently didn’t want to face it, so his mind had deleted the truth or hided in somewhere.

Therefore, he decided not to sugar coat his answer or delay the unbearable ugly truth. So, he let the words out without giving a second thought about it.

‘’Negan, Lilith is dead.’’

Tag List:

@buttercandy16​ 

[fayewonglibrary]

The legendary Faye Wong: fashion only for herself (2014)

This year’s Paris Fashion Week seemed to attract special attention because Faye Wong attended the Celine show as a friend of the brand. The focus was not on the fashion itself but on the gossip surrounding Faye Wong. Faye Wong is one of entertainment reporters' favorites to capture. Every time Faye Wong appears, it sparks a new round of discussion about her clothes which are extraordinary and legendary. This time, will she have her freshest look yet at Paris Fashion Week? 

Ten years have passed since the last time Faye Wong went to Paris Fashion Week and attended the Celine show in 2004. Ten years ago, Faye Wong’s Celine shoot in Paris was a whirlwind. We remember the moment when Faye Wong was on the streets of Paris in a slim beige dress and leather gloves designed by Michael Kors in his last autumn/winter collection for Celine. Those images gave us a sense that we were looking at movie stills, like she was a lost character under the lens of Wong Kar-wai.

Faye Wong’s Celine looks ten years ago are like her song “Only Myself” on the album "Mystery" in 1994. This woman has always given us the impression that her personality and attitude are completely herself, hence the song "Only Myself". Therefore, such a woman does not need extravagant or gorgeous clothes. She only needs her own interest. Those who really love fashion are also keen on this kind of "mystery". It is the kind of fashion that is not too mainstream and a rare feature in the popular fashion world.

In 2005, Faye Wong attended the opening of the Celine store at Hong Kong Landmark Plaza. She wore the 2005 spring/summer printed jacket designed by Roberto Menichetti. With her long legs and straight hair, Faye appeared shy at the event. At the time, she was in love and enjoying her marriage. The print on that suit happened to be a rare expression of warmth from Faye Wong. Later, we got used to the collaborations between Faye Wong and Celine. Faye Wong loved Celine and went to Taipei for the Celine store opening, she stood on stage in Celine, and she wore Celine at her birthday party.  

From 2004 to 2014, the design director of Celine changed from Michael Kors to Roberto Menichetti to Ivana Omazic to Phoebe Philo.  Phoebe Philo, the creative director of Celine today, has brought the old Paris brand to a new level. Phoebe Philo seems compatible with Faye Wong. Faye Wong is a pioneer in fashion. Her influence in Asian fashion occurred even earlier when she was already an unforgettable trail-blazer. In the early 1990s, when the designs of the “The Antwerp Six" were not well known by everyday consumers in Asia, Faye Wong was already wearing the fashions from Belgium with the help of stylists Thomas Chan and later Titi Kwan. Faye Wong wore the works of these Belgian designers and created stunning looks again and again at her concerts.

To cite a few examples, Jurgi Persoons was an avant-garde designer from Antwerp who caused a sensation in his graduation exhibition in Antwerp in 1992. In 1996, he started his own brand. The design had strong avant-garde and decadent qualities. Coupled with expensive and unbelievably intricate handiwork, it was unique in the fashion industry. When the brand closed in 2003, many fans were sad. Hong Kong fashion culture critic Lai Jianhui wrote in  "Fashion Moments" that Jurgi Persoons was independent from the rest of the world. The era when Faye Wong wore Jurgi Persoons while holding concerts in Hong Kong was also the era when "The Antwerp Six” legend began to awaken in Asian fashion.  Faye Wong wore a lot of Jurgi Persoons. The works of Jurgi Persoons were carried by D-Mop, a Hong Kong fashion house. It was a golden era for Hong Kong fashion.

In addition, Faye Wong was wearing Martin Margiela and Ann Demeulemeester as early as 1995, or even earlier.  Faye Wong has been a fan of Ann Demeulemeester for many years. Back on the stage in 1996, Faye Wong's Ann Demeulemeester look was so stunning.  I also appreciate Faye Wong for wearing Belgian brands such as Véronique Branquinho in the 1990s. Nowadays, there are fewer and fewer avant-garde and pioneering surprises on the runway. Just like how we prefer to listen to Faye Wong’s old Cantopop songs, looking through the past Faye Wong looks, each one has a story. Each one is full of aura and jolting to the senses. When Titi Kwan went to the Louis fashion store in Antwerp to choose pieces for Faye Wong’s concert, he discovered another Belgian designer Bernard Willhelm and brought it to Hong Kong and Asia through Faye Wong’s interpretation. Bernard Willhelm's never-ending indulgence and playful designs leaned towards artistic and whimsical, which made people love it very much!

Stories in fashion have disappeared. Thinking about it, I often feel it’s a pity. In the 1990s, Helmut Lang, the designer who gave us the minimalist fashion style, created a new era of minimalism. Faye Wong's Helmut Lang period is also the best era of Helmut Lang. Unfortunately, even second-hand Helmut Lang pieces are now rare. Today, Helmut Lang lives in seclusion on Long Island, New York and has become a true artist.

In 1997, Faye Wong joined EMI Records. From 1997 to 2003, Faye Wong was in her most brilliant musical era. The album "Faye Wong" was her first album released in her golden age at EMI. In the album's promotional photos, the stylist found a black and white harlequin coat from the 1997-1998 autumn/winter collection by Yohji Yamamoto.

In 1999, Faye Wong continued to shine in the music world and released the album "Only Love Strangers". In the album, there was a song I loved very much called "Passing Cloud". The MV for this song was directed by Susie Au.  Faye Wong appeared in a black trench coat by British futuristic designer Hussein Chalayan, which seemed to lead us to appreciate her truly ethereal and elusive fashion temperament. At that time, Hussein Chalayan's reputation was rising because he attracted a lot of attention at London Fashion Week. 

By the year 2000, "Fable" might have been Faye Wong's best album yet. Do you still remember the song "Love Letter to Myself"? In the MV, Faye Wong wore a white Jil Sander dress. It was the first time Jil Sander appeared in front of us.

Faye Wong became an all out fashion pioneer.  As for today's gossip entertainment headlines, whatever brand Faye Wong wears becomes really popular. For example, when Faye Wong appeared in Rick Owens' shirt and boots, and was photographed by reporters, the fashion editor started looking for Rick Owens pieces...

Therefore, in 2014, seeing the Heavenly Queen set foot in Paris Fashion Week again, there is definitely a feeling of evolution. No matter what style she appears in, we will miss those good moments in fashion that gave us enlightenment. 

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

SOURCE: SINA // TRANSLATED BY: FAYE WONG FUZAO

[angerissue]

Character Survey.

Real name: Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, Ph.D..

Single or taken: Single, and this probably isn't going to change anytime soon. He has a number of ingrained emotional issues, and ideological issues that pertain to his condition, that prevent him from seeking romantic relationships and even just becoming close to someone. One-night stands are possible, because they don’t involve emotional commitment from either party, but real relationships scare the hell out of him. The closer that someone gets to Bruce, the more he fears hurting them or being hurt himself.

Abilities or powers: He has an extremely high IQ, almost unprecedented intuition when it comes to the sciences and its numerous technologies, and a great ability to think outside the box and solve complicated, confounding problems. Also, he can turn big and green, which makes him capable of inhuman physical feats and gives him a ridiculous healing factor. This cannot be understated; he can literally recover from decapitation if the conditions are right. It's debatable whether these qualify as gifts or curses, because of the experiences they've created for Bruce in the past, but they're definitely abilities at the least.

Eye colour: Brown. Sometimes green if he’s in a mood.

Hair colour: Dark brown with some grey.

Family members: Rebecca Banner (mother / deceased), Brian Banner (father / incarcerated), Jennifer Walters (cousin / alive), Susan Drake (adoptive aunt / unknown), Elaine Banner (aunt / deceased).

Pets: In The Persistence, he owns a white knockout mouse named Eddie, who came from a selection of ailing lab mice that he experimented on with the Hulk's plasma. He doesn’t have pets in other verses, though he wouldn’t mind a cat, or a dog with a calm and mellow demeanour, as long as his living situation and overall routine is constant and undisturbed. Otherwise, it will never be a possibility. Back when General Ross' squad broke down his door in Brazil, he needed to abandon a mutt named Rick, and it hurt because he’d become very fond of him. He doesn't want to do this to another animal.

Hobbies or activities: He loves hiking and jogging (with trails in forested areas being his preferred location), cooking and baking, gardening, reading textbooks and science journalism, bait fishing, programming and experimenting, travelling, sightseeing, meditation, yoga, collecting and listening to vinyl records, and being a rebel by listening to police scanners and going after bad guys if he doesn't have much else to do. But even if it seems like he's not outwardly doing anything, he's probably still occupied — he tends to spend a profuse amount of time in his own head, ruminating and reflecting on future goals, whether it involves anticipating or dreading them. He also likes to contemplate new concepts and designs for technologies.

Animal that represents them: Definitely a pangolin, because you can’t look at a pangolin and the way it carries itself and not think of Banner from a purely visual perspective. Add on the fact that their bodies are covered in hardened scales for defense, and how they curl up into a ball whenever they're upset and threatened, and you have a metaphorical version of Bruce, who tends to shy away and retreat into himself whenever he's having a lower moment, and has a lot of deep-seated defensive mechanisms on display during social interactions. But seriously, these animals just want to walk around eating ants, minding their own business. They don’t have a bone to pick with anyone... Which is also similar to Bruce. And did I mention that pangolins are endangered, because they're frequently hunted and trapped by humans for their supposed “beneficial properties” in medicine (none of which are proven)? That's similar to how Banner has been followed all over the place by the U.S. military, just because they perceived his condition to be useful somehow.

Worst habits: Take your pick. Distancing himself from other people even when he could use the company, self-flagellation, humouring his guilt complex even when he's not responsible for certain negative outcomes, repressing or suppressing his emotions when he needs to express them (or the opposite, staying as the Hulk so he can stew in those strong emotions and therefore punish himself for whatever he “did wrong”), running away from connections that involve real commitment, especially romantic ones.

Role models: Steve Rogers for his patriotism and overall sense of morality, Neils Bohr for his defense of the Bohr atomic model (which had been a radical theory for the time) and subsequent successes, Ernest Rutherford for similar reasons, and his mother when he was younger, though he doesn’t remember much about her because he was only six when she died. Same goes for his aunt, Susan; while he spent more time around her than Rebecca in total, he was rather emotionally absent by this point because of all the trauma earlier in his childhood. In general, his role models tend to be people who remain strong in the face of adversity and judgement, and stick to their values for the benefit of others. All the above people qualify in that sense, for different reasons.

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual.

Thoughts on marriage and kids: Nope, and bigger nope. He would love to have a close connection with someone, however much he's actually repressed the desire for the time being, and some part of him does want to have a child — however, he always concludes that it wouldn't be worth it. Bruce believes marriage would be a shackle for anyone who's unfortunate enough to become his partner, and it would open them up to potential threats from people who could use them to get to him and his condition. And children are a no-go because Bruce doesn’t want them to have a father like him; he might be absent for a lot of their upbringing, and either unstable or otherwise unaccommodating in temperament if he’s upset. And he'll constantly be trying to hide his condition from them as well, because god forbid they find out their father is a monster, and they feel like a freak because of it. He's been in a position where he felt like an anomaly as a child, and he's not interested in subjecting his children to this. He also loathes the idea of bringing children into the world because he would not be able to ensure their safety — after all, he can’t even ensure his own. So to Bruce, he'd be setting them up for endangerment just because they’re related to him, similar to how his partner would become a target as well.

Style preferences: Safe and conservative, and not flamboyant by any means. He usually sticks to warmer and neutral palettes, and cuts/styles that are classic and unlikely to fall out of style; this includes his suits, jackets, pants, and shirts. We're talking chinos and slacks, poplin dress shirts, wool sport coats and blazers. Most occasions will see him wearing the dress shirt, slacks, and sport coat together. If he's feeling more adventurous, he'll pair a sport coat with a crewneck, or he could even go with a polo shirt and jeans, but the latter is rare. In general, Bruce's most interesting piece is a brown leather bomber jacket, which he usually wears in the warmer months; colder weather will bring out a peacoat (and he loves to pop the collar in lieu of using a scarf). As far as cost goes, Bruce is fairly well-off between the royalties from S.H.I.E.L.D. and other work he's done here and there, but even so, he doesn't purchase outrageously expensive clothing and tends to go for the mid-upper brands. He'll do made-to-measure, but not full bespoke. He finds any further spending to be superfluous.

Approach to friendships: Cautious and uncertain about them, and tends not to approach people first, because he would hate to overstep his boundaries / make someone uncomfortable. Rather accommodating to people he considers friends, but he's extremely quick to duck out if they can’t meet him eye-to-eye regarding touchy topics, like decisions that affect the well-being of many people. This is the reason he shunned his friendship with Tony after they debated about the Sokovia Accords. Being an introvert, he’s one of those people who doesn't like bothering his friends; even if they make it abundantly clear that he's welcome anytime, he'll hesitate, but he’s completely okay and even happy if those friends approach him instead. He doesn't always like when his personal space is invaded, or if someone touches him, but he'll start to make exceptions if he becomes more familiar with someone. He loves the people that he can consider friends, but he always views the friendships as something that could dissolve in a heartbeat. On some level, even unconscious, he's always expecting things to end.

Thoughts on pie: An acceptable desert. Bumbleberry, strawberry rhubarb, and pumpkin are his favourites. He prefers the homemade variety, and because of it, he tends to make his own, butter crust and all, avoiding store-bought unless it’s particularly memorable — or if someone buys a slice for him. He’s appreciative like that.

Favourite place to spend time: Somewhere he can guarantee that he's not being watched; these are most commonly his labs in the Northwind Observatory, quiet and secluded trails, or his chambers in the Crown City citadel on Sakaar. Not only do these locations ease his anxieties about being studied, inspected, or followed, but he feels less of a pressure to put on false pretenses and exhaust himself with social niceties, many of which may be fabricated. He doesn’t need much external stimulation, because he’s fine simply turning inward and thinking, without paying much attention to his surroundings, but he’ll certainly admit to spending a ton of time tinkering with pet projects if he’s in the labs. Obviously, Bruce prefers to be alone in most of these cases. But if he's with someone he cares about, whether a friend or a romantic partner, and can openly express himself around them, that's nice for him too.

Swim in the lake or ocean: Lakes, without question. He has some bad memories of being in the ocean, whether it’s about the time he was tossing and turning in glacial waters after his failed suicide attempt, or clawing his way out of a quinjet that crashed into the water while his alter started to take over. Bruce remembers all that, and it's not pleasant. The openness of oceans perturb him as well; lakes are usually far more intimate and amniotic because they’re often surrounded by forests, which allows him to feel safer and less exposed.

Their type: Someone who is, and is comfortable with showing, some semblance of dependence on him, which would placate his need to fill a provider role and not simply be a charity case; he's had enough of that between begging on the streets and asking Tony Stark for boarding. (This doesn't mean he's looking for someone who's a total pushover, cannot make their own decisions, or is emotionally needy, because those would make him run in the other direction, frankly.) Someone who can hold their own and stand up for their beliefs when necessary. Someone who can challenge him intellectually, though not necessarily in an academic sense; it really just depends on how much they can expand his own perspective by giving their own. Someone who really understands his needs and issues. And obviously, someone who isn't scared of his condition, because it's going to manifest a lot. It needs to; he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. Hulk is another story, but fortunately, he doesn't show up enough to really be an immediate concern, and Bruce and his partner can cross that bridge when they reach it. Physically, he's usually attracted to women who are slightly shorter than him; their hair can be anything from blonde to brown, and he prefers body types that are similar to his own; more on the slender side but not necessarily fragile.

Camping or indoors: He’d rather be indoors. He isn’t extremely fond of camping, if we’re using the most common definition of "pitching a tent, cooking with a fire made from sticks and tinder, and spending the night in the woods with the bears and the bugs". There are indeed occasions where he cannot stand to be indoors, whether because he’s feeling claustrophobic (a common symptom of abstaining a little too long from transformations), or he simply needs some time away from other people in the geographic sense, but in those cases, he’s more likely to go for a walk or hike, not set up an entire campsite and spend the rest of the night outdoors. For him, camping is meant for a survival-type situation rather than a recreational one. The closest thing to camping he'll do is living in a cabin with a wood stove and local water supply, which he’s done a few times over the years. He's even purchased a few cabins by the time his Persistence verse rolls around, so if one of the properties are compromised, he could always retreat to another one.

Tagged by: @mynameisanakin​! Tagging: @fallencomrade​ , @asgardianhammer​​ , @alongingwithin​ , and anyone else who wants to do this.

[hardlyinteresting]

Happy to Burn Firefighter!Bucky

PART 1 of 3

This isn’t where she wants to be. It’s not where she thought she’d be by now. All her dreams of a cosy loft in Brooklyn with exposed brick walls and the job of her dreams right around the corner are crashing down around her as she sits in the back of the cab taking her and her embarrassingly few belongings back t her childhood home. It definitely a step in the wrong direction.  

Her bedroom is the same as she left it when she went away to college. Her bed made up with new pillowcases and a big white duvet in the corner by the window, a big Ikea dresser across the room, a desk in the far corner opposite the bed. Her mom makes dinner, leaving her to unpack her things. Glancing at her high school graduation photo on the wall she wonders how she ended up here. Wonders if she had stayed in town instead of going away if everything would be better. She’d probably be married to her high school boyfriend and working in town. Life would be easy and uncomplicated; worrying about the town gossip instead of her New York city failure of a career. She might’ve been happy. But she had to go, she had to fill her big movie trope dreams of moving to the big city and a fat lot of good that did her. She’s setting her books on the bookshelf above the desk when her mom enters the room, sitting on the end of the bed. “Listen,” she starts and Y/n can’t help but roll her eyes, “I know it’s not the fancy city life you were after, but they’re looking for help down at the V.A. Judy at the post office was saying they’re overrun with paperwork, and a lot of the veterans have been asking for someone to help them apply for their benefits and whatnot”. “I’ll look into it. Thanks, mom,” Y/n replies without an ounce of enthusiasm.

“Your friends are working at the fire station now,” her mother attempts to change the subject “What friends?” “James, and Steven. Natasha is working down there too” James. Y/n  nearly chokes at the sound of her exes name. “I haven’t talked to them since high school. I wouldn’t say we’re friends anymore” Raising her hands in surrender her mom stands to leave the room, “Suit yourself. But I’m sure they’d love to see you again. Talk to you about New York” “Yeah, I’m sure a lot of the town wants to talk to me about new york and all of my failure” “It’s not like that y/n!” “Well forgive me! I’m sorry I’m not ready to tell everybody about how I was dumb enough to think the man dangling my future promotion over my head was actually in love with me!” “Sweetheart…” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell,” she sighs taking her mother’s place at the end of the bed.

She spends the next week in her bedroom, only leaving for meals and to go to the bathroom. Her days are spent with the curtains drawn, wearing the same track pants for days on end, going through high school yearbooks and going over proposals she’d written for work projects, wondering where she went wrong. It’s Saturday when the doorbell rings. Peaking out the window from behind the curtain she can see her childhood friend stood on the front step just like she did every morning coming to collect Y/n for their walk to school. Her hair is as red as it ever was and Y/n takes a moment to feel jealous about how well dressed her friend has always managed to be with one thrift store in town and a single walmart miles away. She considers pretending there’s nobody home, but surprises herself by making her hair semi presettable before heading to open the front door. “You need to get out of the house,” are the first words out of Wanda’s mouth. “How did you know I was here?” “You think that your mother’s only daughter came home and she wasn’t going to tell everyone?” Of course not. “So, I want you to take a shower. I’m going to pick out an outfit for you, and then you’re going to tell me all about this jackass who broke your heart” “She told everyone about that too, huh?” “No. That I just know”. And for the first time in weeks, Y/n manages a smile. It’s nice to have a friend.

Freshly showered, a full face of makeup, dressed in black skinny jeans, white converse and tube top with her biker jacket, Y/n is finally deemed presentable by Wanda. Y/n tells her about New York. About why she left town. About getting the job, how she thought she was doing really well, living the dream. And she tells her about how Brock was just a scum bag, using her promotion to get in her pants. “I have half a mind to go to New York and give him a piece of my mind!” “Believe me, I did,” Y/n assures her as they walk towards the main street, to Rick’s bar, “The last time I was in town I was still underage”. “Well, you haven’t missed much. A dive bar is a dive bar. But I think you and I need drinks!” And so the night begins, tucked in a booth with a friend, ignoring the way their shoes stick to the wood floors, and how everything smells a little bit like stale beer. They start with a shot of tequila, then two more, before sipping on rum and cokes. The jukebox plays glam rock, and some of the locals tilt their heads trying to figure out if that’s Y/n L/n back in town while they shoot pool. The night is young and the drinks are cheap. The bell above the door rings as a group walks in talking loudly amongst themselves, and then time stops as the name spills from his lips, “Y/N?”

*Sorry this part is really short and like not that interesting, but I promise it will get better!!! the next part is going to be much longer and the part after that as well. please let me know what you think! 

[tinydooms]

Since the overwhelming response to my previous question was "yes, please", here is a half-written snippet that I may or may not finish:

A Trip to Harrods

London, late August 1923

“You’re sure it’s still August, right? We didn’t enter some kind of time warp and land in October?”

Evie laughed. “No, darling, I’m positive it’s August. We do seem to have missed summertime, though.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Rick gave the pouring rain outside on last mournful look and came to sit beside Evie.

They had only just arrived in London that evening, after docking in Southampton earlier in the day. It had been a straightforward disembarkation from the ship, followed by a swift train journey to Victoria Station and finally a taxi to Claridge’s Hotel on Brooke Street, where Evie had reserved rooms for them before they left Cairo. Because of course she had chosen a hotel that out-swanked Shepherd’s, Rick had thought when they arrived. Evie was a sensible and practical woman (most of the time), but sometimes her wealthy side shone through. There were probably any number of just-as-nice-but-much-cheaper hotels in London, but Claridge’s it was.

“I always forget how cold it is in England,” Evie said, stretching her feet towards the fire.

“Do you?” Rick said wryly.

Evie smiled. “Anyway, I had planned to do some shopping once we arrived. None of our clothes will be suitable for the Great British Winter.”

“Honey, our clothes are barely suitable for the Great British Summer. I’m about to go climb into that swimming pool in the bathroom and never come out.”

They grinned at each other, Evie somewhat sheepishly. “Do you hate it already?”

Rick shook his head. “No, of course not. It’s different from what I’m used to, is all. I’ll be fine. Can we eat dinner up here, though? I don’t think I’m up for the dining room tonight.”

Evie nodded. “We were rather out-classed down there, weren’t we?”

That was, Rick felt, putting it mildly. Claridge’s was apparently the place to see and be seen; the lobby had been crawling with bright young things and dapper gents and people who had never had to work a day in their life or wear the same suit more than once. Rick generally considered himself well-dressed and confident, but he had been nonplussed by how plain, even dowdy, he and Evie had looked as they checked in. Even the first class dining room on the ship hadn’t been this fancy.

“I’ve always tried to dress well, but this place…” he trailed off.

Evie shifted to put her arms around him. “You look beautiful. London is…it’s just different. And it doesn’t help that we’re in Mayfair.”

“Lucky we’re only staying a few days, huh?”

“And we’re not staying in the hotel the whole time.” Evie brightened. “We really must see the sights: the Tower and the museums and the Changing of the Guard and all. Especially since you’ve never been here! There are also some amazing bookshops–” And her eyes took on a distinct gleam.

Rick laughed. “Well, if there are bookshops.”

But first, Evie decreed, they really did need to get their shopping out of the way. Business before pleasure, Rick quipped, and laughed at the face she made. And so it was that the next morning they emerged into the heavy London fog in their heaviest jackets, bound for Harrods.

There had been some debate about where to shop, but Harrods had won out purely because Evie’s parents had long maintained an account there and Evie had had an almost yearly trip there for new clothes for as long as she could remember.

tbc

[ozymandiasdirge]

well i have a 52 oz. coke slurpee and some kettle chips so i guess its time for more star trek...episode 3x02 the ensigns of command

last time worf’s half human girlfriend had such hot top energy it prevented me from taking notes because my brain melted but we’re back and onto season three.

BEVS BACK. OBRIEN PLAYS THE CELLO. DATA HAS HIS VIOLIN. ITS BEEN 30 SECONDS AND IVE ALREADY RECEIVED SO MUCH

also this whole ship really is full of NPR gays….y’all are all going to the orchestra aren’t there any jocks here besides riker.

picard really is just data’s dad isn’t he….i may be in my feelings give me a minute.

oh the intro is way fancier i dig i dig

i knew bev was coming back but my episode guide said that the season 3 premier was peak wesley being annoying so i skipped but I’m glad to see dr. crusher and her perm back with us god bless.

okay last time the crew went into a radiation cloud spock died so maybe don’t send data into the planet full of toxic radiation just an idea.

oh this leader guy already sucks. bye bitch. oh my god this guy’s assistant is the country club manager from high school musical 2.

DUDE ALL YOUR PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE. GET UR PRIORITIES IN ORDER.

does deanna ever get to wear something that isn’t this terrible late eighties jump suit??? they aren’t even letting her wear should pads.

i like this girl. her hair is wonderful and she has sensible corduroy jacket. she is, most importantly, nice to data.

starfleet is once again rife with incompetence. so business as  usual then.

RIKER BE NICER TO DATA JEEZ HES TRYING HIS BEST AND THIS ISNT EVEN HIS JOB DESCRIPTION

GIRL YOU CANT JUST KISS PEOPLE YOU JUST MET. WHAT WORLD IS THIS???

star trek the next generation really said “we can’t have people thinking this robot is gay. we have to let people know he fucks.” i hate you rick berman. 

god who did data’s highlighter!!! i just want to know

god when people on this show are being this dumb you really say to yourself “lore really was right about some shit.”

deanna is so smart 💖

oh okay this man hurt data its time for him to die

data off his shits and i couldn’t be prouder. you’re doing amazing sweetie.

only picard could make fucking contract law a huge FUCK YOU. god bless you patrick stewart.

this girl is so cool and they reduce her at the end to “wants to fuck data” I HATE YOU RICK BERMAN.

data really is sweet :’)

data: shows empathy and compassion

data literally thirty seconds later: sir i have no feelings what emotion are you speaking of. king you are feeling right now <3

well if even the standard episodes are that consistent i can see why people say season three gets better. that was pretty good. nothing mindblowing but i had a good time.

[alilpunkrock]

Eternally Yours

Eternally Yours

AJ Stortz x reader

I don’t remember who requested this one.. oops.

“Can I request one where AJ proposes? But can he be really nervous about it?”

••••••••••

“AJ calm down, you’re going to give away the surprise.” Ryan whispered so you wouldn’t hear from the makeup chair. Chris sat still with his eyes closed, answering your questions as you focused on blending his eyeshadow.

“I know man. I’m just nervous.” AJ replied. Ryan pat his shoulder in support.

“She’s in love with you man. No reason to be nervous.”

AJ sighed and his mind went back to the ring hidden in his suitcase, so happy you turned down the option of sharing one big bag. The beautiful engagement ring, that you unknowingly picked out after showing Jaime a picture that she forwarded to your boyfriend, was taunting him. He didn’t know that a piece of sterling silver and diamonds could hold so much weight but he’s never felt so uneasy in his life. Not that he thought you’d say no. Well, that crossed his mind, but he doesn’t think it’ll happen. It’s mainly because you two haven’t been together a super long time; almost two years. And AJ has never been in love with someone like he is you.

He decided he was going to marry you after your first date. Sounds crazy but it’s true. You’d stolen his heart from the moment you sat down at in front of him at the table. It was the stupid joke you made about the restaurant name and your laugh. He thought he had dreamed the date when he woke up the next morning, until he got a text from you asking if he want to go out again.

AJ jumped when one of the crew members voices rang in his ear from the ear piece. He turned the walkie down and answered that he’d be right there.

You had moved on to Vinny’s makeup next. AJ came over and kissed the side of your head.

“I gotta go help set the stage, I’ll see you in a few.” You smiled and turned to kiss his lips.

“See ya!” He walked away after another kiss.

“You guys are disgusting.” Vinny grunted.

~~~~~~

The concert carried on smoothly as you watch from the side of the stage with AJ and the crew. AJ was standing behind you, holding you with his arms above your chest. He started swaying to the music making you laugh.

“You know this isn’t exactly slow dance music.” You leaned up to speak into his ear. He smiled down at you and shrugged.

Eternally Yours began to play, it was your favorite song by Motionless and you loved every time it played.

“I always think of you when I hear this song,” AJ said into your ear. A warm blush covered your body and butterflies erupted in your belly.

“Really?” You asked, almost surprised. He nodded and sang along to you;

“I'm ready to bury all of my bones, I'm ready to lie but say I won't, so tell me your secrets and join me in pieces, to rot in this garden made of stones, eternally yours.”

With a smile, you leaned up and kissed his lips, hoping it was filled with enough emotion to show him how much you love him.

“I love you.”

~~~~~~

The next day was a day off. The bus made it to the next stop and parked for the day.

Today was the day AJ decided it was going to happen. The ring was burning a hole in his suitcase and his mind.

“Yo, AJ,” Ryan called. AJ turned his attention from his phone to the guitarist. Ryan motioned for him to follow him outside.

“What’s up, man? Everything all set up?” AJ asked hopeful.

“Yep! Chris and I marked the path on the trail that’ll lead you to the gazebo. Rick will be there with his camera to record and Vince is going to get the pictures,” Ryan explained. “Jaime is getting ready with Y/N as week speak and is going to suggest they go sightseeing. You’ll already be at the gazebo by then.” AJ nodded, understanding the plan.

“Alright let’s do this.”

You finished tying your hair up in a top knot and checked your outfit in the tiny, funhouse like mirror built into the bus. Your tight, black, ripped jeans and black flowy tank top suited the weather outside perfectly.

“Jaim? What shoes should I wear?” You called to your friend, holding up leather slip on vans and high top converse.

“Hmmm, Vans.” She answered. You nodded and slipped on your shoes and grabbed your purse.

“Hey beautiful,” AJ said walking into the bus, heading towards you and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “The boys and I are going to explore. You and Jaime going to do something?”

“Yeah, we’re going to eat and then hike this beautiful trail in the woods.” You told him, holding his hand.

“Sounds like fun, babe! I’ll see you later.” AJ smiled and gave you a proper kiss, lasting a little longer than usual.

~~~~~~

“Are you ready to find this trail? I’m so excited to see the forest here!” Jaime asked, putting her napkin on her plate. You nodded and pushed your chair out.

The walk from the restaurant to the hiking trail was rather short, and the weather was beautiful. Cloudy, breezy, but warm enough to not need a jacket.

“Ugh Jaime, I want to live here!” You exclaimed and spun in a circle. “It’s so beautiful!” She laughed.

“No! You can’t move away from me!” She grabbed your arm.

“I’m bringing you with obviously! I’ll steal you away from Ricky!”

You both were laughing as you made it to the trail.

“Look, there’s arrows.” You noticed. “That must be the trail.”

“Let’s follow it then.” Jaime said, walking ahead of you. She was trying to hide her knowing smile.

The arrows continued for a few minutes, but soon you were met with a beautiful gazebo decorated with lights and lanterns and flowers. There was an amazing view of more mountains and pine trees in the background along with a foggy haze.

“Oh my god, Jaime look how beautiful this is!” You said, not getting a response. You turned to look at Jaime, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Jaime? Hello?”

Suddenly a throat cleared and you almost jumped out of your skin. You turned abruptly and saw AJ standing in front of the gazebo.

“AJ! What the hell?! I just had a heart attack.” You held your hand to your heart.

“I’m sorry babe,” he chuckled. “Come here.” He held his hand out.

“You look nice.” You complemented. He wore nice black jeans, a clean, plain black t shirt and new black and white vans. “What’s the occasion?” You kinda had an idea.

“Just wanted to surprise you, are you surprised?” He asked.

“Definitely.” You nodded.

You stood there in silence enjoying the scenery.

“You know, we should get married here one day.” AJ said casually. In reality he was shitting his pants.

“You think?” You asked, then nodded agreeing. “How soon do you want to do that?”

He put his hand in his pocket. “Hmm, hopefully soon. This should speed things along.”

AJ let go and turned to face you, landing on his left knee and holding the box up to you. Tears immediately weld up in your eyes.

“AJ-“ you started.

“Nope don’t say anything yet. I’m not going to get through this without crying anyway,” you nodded covering your mouth with out hands.

“So, I’ve literally thought about this moment from our first date. And it’s been so hard not proposing sooner. I love you more than I ever could’ve thought possible. You make me so happy and my bad days don’t stay bad because of you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I want to make you mine forever. So will you please, marry me?”

By now you can barley answer him so an enthusiastic nod of your head is how you say yes. He smiled and stood up, slipping the ring on your finger. You finally stood on your tiptoes and kissed him like you wanted to.

“I’m eternally yours.” You whispered.

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