#then he moves to Boston and refuses to do anything but regular calls so that he does not have to see them

[iscreamkitty]

Leo then continued to fall for the puppy dog eyes for the next 82 years <3

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??

Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added

To be added please tag me in your future works!

Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...

If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3

Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.

Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)

Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)

Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)

Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)

Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)

Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.

Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”

Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.

All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.

Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.

Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.

To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)

✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader

✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.

✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!

Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.

my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.

Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader

Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)

I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.

Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.

Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.

Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.

Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress

A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*

The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader

off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*

What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.

Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!

These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.

Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.

AO3 Website Reccomendations

Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.

Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.

Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.

off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.

Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!

Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.

The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.

Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.

[stillebesat]

Meeting Virgil (5x1) -First Time

December Drabbles Day 16  Sanders Shorts: Remy  Sanders Sides: Virgil  Blurb: A Special Delivery Prequel. -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded.  Inspiration: @book-of-charlie​ asked: What did Virgil mean by "the last 5 times?" Fic Type: STORK!AU, Winged!Remy Fic Warnings: Bad Parenting implications, Injury, Hitting  Taglist in Reblog. 

The baby girl stirred in Remy’s arms just as the bright lights of good old NYC came into view. “Shh. Shh, little one.” He soothed, brushing her tiny cheek with a single finger, leaving the faintest of traces of dark green dust behind that would ensure that she would drift back into whatever dreams a newborn could have. “We’re almost there.” 

It had been a long night of flying for the both of them, though Remy had been doing all the work with his wings, having flown over three major storm cells in his cross country journey from West Coast to East. 

You couldn’t argue with the Parent Line though. 

Remy glanced to the brightly glowing purple ribbon of light he’d chosen to follow out of the half dozen that had been presented to him when he’d taken the baby girl from the hot car she’d purposely been left in and tilted his wings, adjusting his flight path to take him deeper into the city. 

Always choose the brightest. That was what he’d been told to do when multiple ribbons appeared in his vision. Not that any of the choices were bad per se, but the brighter the colored ribbon, the more easily the parents could integrate the child into their lives and that was what was needed. A smooth transition. 

Far smoother than most of the others. Remy let out a low whistle, wings fluttering as his weaving through the city led him to one of the skyscrapers that housed the richer millionaire type of people. “Well look who lucked out.” He mumbled, pushing his sunglasses onto his head as he landed gracefully on a balcony halfway up the south side. 

A richy. That was...different. Usually the fools were too obsessed over making money and buying their next fancy jet or island to want to deal with children, especially newborns. It just didn’t...fit. 

Remy frowned, adjusting the baby in his arms, his wings curling around them to block out the wind so she wouldn’t get cold as he double checked that the purple ribbon was leading him inside.

It was.

“Huh.” The word left his lips involuntarily as he moved to the sliding glass door, the latch unlocking at his touch so he could slip inside the darkened room. Maybe she wasn’t going to the millionaire but to their maid or butler instead. That would make far more sens--

WHAM.

Remy staggered as something cold and definitely made of heavy metal hit the side of his face. His sunglasses flew off, landing somewhere to his left as he whirled to the source, wing raising in time to block the frying pan swinging again for his head. “WATCH THE BABY!” He screeched at his unknown assailant as he desperately tried to blink the stars from his eyes. 

Geez. And he’d thought seeing stars was a myth. 

The shadowy figure froze. “Lights.” A man said in a low voice.

Remy hissed, ducking his aching head as the room flooded with light, blinding him. His wings automatically folded in over him to protect his poor eyes, but also so he could check on the baby girl. 

If this idiot had harmed her---

But no. The tightness in his chest eased to see her still sleeping soundly. Good. The dust had helped to keep her asleep despite the noise. 

He looked up, wings pulling back as he straightened to glare at the man in a black hoodie with dark eyeshadow under his eyes like a freaking raccoon standing before him with a  frying pan held in his hands. “Geez Rapunzel. You’re lucky you didn’t hurt her!” 

The man bared his teeth, a hiss coming from his lips, though his grey storm colored eyes anxiously checked the bundle in Remy’s arms. “What sort of idiot brings a baby to a break-in?” He demanded.

Remy scoffed, taking a slow step backwards to get out of range of the ‘weapon,’ holding his charge protectively. “Gurl! Me? Break in--out of the two of us--” He gestured with one wing to his brown leather jacket and jeans, wondering why no one else had come to investigate the commotion yet. “Which of us looks more like a robber? Cus it certainly ain’t me, Sugarbee.” 

The man glanced down to his clothes and smirked before he surged forward, pressing the edge of the frying pan against Remy’s throat before he could blink. “I’m the one who lives here, Flynn Rider.” He growled, stormy eyes glittering. “I can dress however the blazes I want and no freaking glowing green-eyed Angel is going to tell me how to dress.” 

Angel?

Remy froze, swallowing as the cold metal pressed against his throat. Impossible. Adults shouldn’t be able to-- “You can see my wings?” He asked carefully, ignoring the comment about his eyes. He already knew people were offset by the metallic quality they held, but it came with being a S.T.O.R.K. along with the wings.

“Well…yah?” The man frowned, grey eyes flicking to them, the baby and then back to Remy himself. “I mean you’re no Mothman, that’s for sure, they're more polite.” 

No Mothman? The man spoke like he’d met one. That wasn’t--they didn’t exist! It shou--who was this guy?! His wings spread out, puffing up. “But that’s---you shouldn’t!”

The man raised his eyebrows, taking a step back. “Why shouldn’t I be able to see them? They’re rather hard to miss.” He gestured to the wings with his makeshift weapon. “All white and huge.” 

“Because you’re not---” Remy cut off, abruptly realizing where exactly the purple ribbon in the room led. “Oh Jiminy Crickets.” He breathed as he made the connection.  “You are.” It still didn’t explain how his wings were visible to this guy, but--

The man tensed, fingers going white on the handle. “I’m what?” 

Remy relaxed, wings snapping shut. It was unusual, yes, but there were no other ribbons drifting through the apartment. Meaning that the Emo Nightmare before him was the only person here. A single father. Unusual, but not uncommon. “You ever hear of a S.T.O.R.K?” He asked, moving a step closer, brushing the sleeping baby girl’s cheek with a finger. 

“The regular bird, or the legends about how babies--” The man inhaled sharply, going pale as the frying pan slipped from his fingers to clatter to the floor. 

Remy smirked. Looked like Rapunzel could piece the puzzle together on his own. “Still wondering why I’m here in your apartment with a baby?” 

If anything the soon-to-be Father got paler, stumbling back a step. “I can’t!” His voice cracked.

Yah, Remy had heard similar exclamations with other deliveries he’d made. “Of course you can.” He said, carefully holding the little girl out to him. He wouldn’t be here if the young man wouldn’t be a good Dad. “You already have a Father’s protective instinct down.” 

If he didn’t end up with half his face black and blue in the morning, Remy would be very surprised. “You’ll be fine.” 

“But she’s a tiny baby! What if I hurt--no.” The young man violently shook his head, vaulting over the back of the black couch to put a blockade between him and Remy, crossing his arms in front of him as a feeble blockade. “No. No, I can’t take her! I’m not a good dad. I won’t be--I can’t!” 

Denial too was to be expected. It isn’t always easy to comprehend that you’re suddenly a parent. Though no new Dad had reacted quite like this before. “You’ll be fine.” Remy soothed. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I don’t make mistakes.” No S.T.O.R.K. did. “Here.” Again he held her out. “Just hold her and you’ll see.” 

The familial bond could only be made once the parents, or in this case, parent held the child in his arms. Not before. But once he did. Flynn Rider here would be fine. He’d be a great Dad.  

 Edgelord shuddered, closing his eyes as he turned away, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “No. Please. No. I can’t. I can’t. I CAN’T! She deserves better. Please.” 

Please.

The purple ribbon fizzled out, vanishing before Remy’s eyes only for a bright pink ribbon to suddenly flash into view, leading out and away from the apartment. 

What the what?! Remy pulled the child close to his chest, rocking her as she stirred, whimpering in her sleep. The ribbon had just--that had never happened before! EVER. Once a S.T.O.R.K. chose a ribbon, then the child would go to that family. No question. And now--suddenly--Remy swallowed, slowly shaking his head, his wings half spreading, fluttering in his confusion. 

He didn’t get it. But if the man felt that strongly, so strongly to change the ribbon’s color-- 

”Alright. Hey. Hey. Gurl, it’s alright. You don’t have to say yes.” It was unusual. Actually, all of this was just plain weird. No one ever refused a S.T.O.R.K. once they were chosen. “I can take her to another.” 

The man refused to turn around. “Then do it.” He choked out. “Go.” 

Remy frowned, but didn’t argue, scooping up his sunglasses as he moved to the open balcony door. He needed to get the baby girl to this family of this new glowing pink parent line before the sun rose. 

Still, he paused on the threshold, looking over his shoulder to the man in black. “I do stand by what I said though.” He slipped outside, spreading his wings. “You will make a great Dad.”  He called as he took a running leap, jumping off the balcony to soar up into the night sky, following the new ribbon’s trail northeast towards Boston. 

Remy set his jaw, holding the babe close to his chest as he climbed. He just needed to find the right child to prove it.

To Be Continued Second Time

[yourdeepestfathoms]

for anyone curious, my newest book is about the Salem Witch Trials! it’s at the point of view of Mary Warren and how she went through trials, ultimately ending in her downward spiral into madness as the trials deteriorate her mental health. it’s called Servant of Evil.

here’s the first segment of the first chapter!

— — —

She was gathering crops the first day she caught wind of the hysteria.

It was late January and sunny, the last warm day in what would soon feel like forever. The sickle in her hand was wickedly sharp and gleaming in pale yellow light, and the stalks of the corn she was cutting away were rough and sharp beneath calloused fingers. Already, the skin on her hands was shredded, oozing ruby droplets of blood and staining bright green stems. Her legs ached from crouching in the dirt, muscles locked up and tense. Somewhere beyond the pillars of corn stretched out before her, she could hear her master’s children talking in high-pitched voices, dogs barking, and horses neighing. Even closer than that, however, she could hear heavy footsteps tramping through the field, and she knew the owner of this land would not enjoy such galumphing through his crops. But she also knew that the one who appeared through the stalks wouldn’t care much for the fiery point of John Proctor’s scorn.

“Something weirdish is going on in Salem.”

Without looking up, Mary Warren answered the unexpected visitor, “Something is always going on in Salem.”

That much was true, at least right now. Salem was a town of rich trade and sea salt, characterized by a sparkling harbor that was bested only by Boston’s and a habit of fighting with itself. For years, Salem had been split between two forces: the nobles up in Salem Town and the farmers down in Salem Village. The two territories were never not fighting with each other; they were always mad about something the other did, and it was easy to lose track of who hated who and for what reason. Salem Village didn’t like the control Salem Town held over it, while Salem Town was annoyed by Salem Village thinking it was its own settlement, but they all detested the British church, which was mutual. Salem Town often pulled men from Salem Village to be a part of the national guard, which made Salem Village nervous because then they would have nobody to protect them, and Indian attacks were a regular fear throughout the civilization. Aside from its harbor, the other thing Salem had to owe to its popularity was its unfortunate position in front of frequent ambushes. And if it didn’t suffer ambushes first-hand, then it suffered ambushes through the survivors of such raids, many of which populated the city and would soon help with the grisly events that turned the community over on its head.

But the only other thing Salem Village and Salem Town could agree on was that the Indians were an issue. Unfortunately, that was where agreements ended and arguments began- Salem Town wanted more men to train, promising protection; Salem Village refusing, saying they knew how Salem Town lied, and if they didn’t, then they only saved them because of their bountiful trade and not because they were their people. It wouldn’t be long until the yelling broke out, testaments from the Bible were quoted, and grown men argued like two children fighting over who was their parents’ favorite kid.

However, Salem as a whole had fallen silent recently. Things were peaceful. It was as though a grace period were opening up before them all--or, perhaps, it was actually ending.

Except for right now, in the Proctor corn field, of course. Because her visitor would only bring silence if she were dead, and she had proved to be too slippery for death’s fingers three times over after surviving several Indian attacks throughout her young life.

“This is different.”

Wiping a sagging green sleeve over her damp brow, Mary looked up and squinted through sweat and sun to look at none other than the Putnam’s maid, Mercy Lewis.

Mercy was a fine example of everything the Puritans didn’t want. Despite her name’s sake, she was stubborn, brash, and spitfire, though she was smart enough to never act in such a way in front of the church. And she was, indeed, smart. She was more clever than a fox, easily outwitting several situations despite the minimal education women had in their lifetime. The only thing she was merciful to was her younger cousin, Ann Putnam Jr. Her parents were better off naming her Big, Loud, and Vulgar.

Mercy was nineteen-years-old, two years older than Mary, and built like a small bear. She was short, compact, and sinewy, her muscles and joints well-honed from rough maid work. Her temper was black and her teeth were sharp. Her curly dark brown hair was tucked up in her blindingly white bonnet, and she was dressed in a nondescript dress of purple. Storm cloud grey eyes bore down on Mary with bright amusement.

The two of them met three years ago in Elizabeth Proctor’s tavern. Mary had been struggling to wipe away a sticky stain on one of the tables; Mercy was looking for fresh meat. They both were in the right place at the right time.

Mary hadn’t heard her come in. It was as though the shadows of the tavern itself had unfolded the sixteen-year-old before her because she was suddenly there, towering over the front of the table, and Mary ended up spilling the bowl of soapy water she was using all over herself upon noticing her.

“My, are you jumpy,” the strange girl had observed, peering over the edge of the table. She didn’t offer Mary her help or even an apology. Mary didn’t ask for one. “Were your parents murdered by savages, too?”

“What?”

“Ooo, no, then. Got it.”

Mary blinked up at her for a moment, then carefully got up out of the sudsy puddle and retrieved a dry rag to clean up the newest mess. The entire time, the strange girl watched her as she dripped droplets and beads of white soap from the bottom of her old lavender dress.

“Can I help you?” Mary asked as she got back down on her hands and knees to clean the floor.

“Oh, no,” the strange girl answered. “I just came to say hello. Introduce myself. You work for the Proctor’s, yeah?”

“Yes,” Mary nodded.

“Interesting, interesting. I work for the Putnam’s. Thomas is my cousin, actually.”

Mary nodded again. She looked back down at the puddle, trying to focus on that. The girl didn’t move.

“Mercy.”

Mary looked back up again. She blinked. The strange girl blinked back. Was this a game?

“Pity.”

The girl stared at her for a moment, then burst into loud laughter that seemed to shake the walls. Mary was startled; she had never heard anyone laugh so hard in her entire life. Especially in a town as strict as Sakem.

“No, that’s my name,” the girl said after calming down. “My name is Mercy. Mercy Lewis.”

“Oh,” Mary’s ears heated up. “Right. Your parents were feeling pretty creative, weren’t they?”

Another bout of laughter. “Yes. Yes, they were.” She squinted at her. “And you are?”

“Mary. Mary Warren.”

“Well, Mary ‘Pity’ Warren, I think we are going to be very good friends.”

And she was right.

Mercy, as menacing as she could be, made life in Salem a lot more bearable, especially when Proctor’s whip frequently began lapping at Mary’s bare back. Together, they formed a cohort of sorts, sneaking away into the woods with other village girls, hiding away from the Lord’s watchful eyes to discuss the most sinful of things.

And today, Mercy wanted to carry on with their long-running traditions.

“Different in what way?” Mary asked.

Mercy rolled her eyes. She kicked a cloud of dust at Mary, and Mary sputtered, nearly falling backwards into the corn.

“Different-different,” Mercy answered. “Something is wrong with Abigail. Betty, too, I hear. We’re gonna go up to the Reverend’s house and see them. They’re ill, you know?”

“No,” Mary shook her head. “Mister Proctor didn’t tell me anything. They’re sick?”

“Yeah. Real sick. Ain’t wakin’ up. The Reverend has been throwin’ a huge fit over them.” Mercy explained, “I’m surprised you never heard him howlin’!” Then, doing a horrible imitation of Reverend Samuel Parris’s voice, she wailed, “Oh Betty, Betty! Wake, my sweet daughter! Wake! Why won’t you wake?!”

She clung to Mary’s arm dramatically. “God! God! Why have you forsaken me?! What have you struck my little girls with?!”

Mary couldn’t help but giggle softly. Still, her mind was made up on the whole ordeal.

“Tell them my pardons and prayers,” she said, grabbing the fallen sickle. “My master said I gotta tend to the crops. Then I can go to town. But I am not spendin’ my free time meddlin’ in someone else’s affairs.”

Mercy groaned loudly and snatched the sickle away from Mary, making her yelp.

“Live a little, will ya? Let’s go see poor Abby and Betty!” Mercy urged. “To Hell with your master right now. You can’t let him lead you around by a leash all the time. Deal with the consequences later. Let’s go!”

Mary stared into the older girl’s eyes and then sighed, giving in. She stood up- Mercy was taller than her, as she always had been. “Lead on, Mercy.”

Mercy brightened.

Together, the two of them snuck out of the Proctor property, careful as to not get caught by one of the many children roaming the plantation.

Technically, the Proctor’s had eighteen children, though four were dead and eleven were brought forth by two different women, both of which had also passed over the seasons. The only living child of John Proctor’s first wife, Martha Giddens, was Benjamin, a tall, lanky man who could never seem to grow a beard, yet had hair down to his shoulders. He was thirty-three and didn’t talk to Mary very often, but when he did, he greatly critiqued her work in the field. That farm was his pride and joy, and it was a challenge to not roll her eyes when he would go on about the importance of their crops and proper plant care.

Elizabeth II was the second oldest at twenty-nine, and helped Elizabeth Proctor run the tavern with her other siblings: Martha IV, twenty-six (the first two Martha’s had died when they were both infants, along with the woman they were named after); Mary II, twenty-five; John II, twenty-four; Mary III, twenty-three; and Thorndike, twenty. Why Proctor decided to have TWO daughters named Mary was beyond Mary herself, but it wasn’t uncommon for things to become confusing when their name was shouted for whatever reason.

Elizabeth Proctor’s children stayed on the farm, helping clean and take care of the livestock: William, eighteen; Sarah fifteen; Samuel, seven; Elisha, five; Abigail, three; and Joseph, one. Mercy often made jokes that Elizabeth had obviously been the one to name the kids, as they were actually creative and not repeating several times over.

But with so many watchmen on the property, Mary was surprised about how easy it was to slip away unseen.

The road was loose and crunched loudly beneath their footfalls. Mercy kept kicking a rock, and Mary watched it bounce across the ground.

“So, what’s wrong with Betty and Abby?” Mary asked.

Mercy smirked widely.

“There be witches about, Mary.”

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X8

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I freakin’ loved this episode! It was so so good! Which surprised me considering what they focused on. Based on the promo I knew that this would be DeLuca’s goodbye episode and so I expected to like the other parts of the episode we were shown in the promo such as Hayes talking to Meredith at her bedside, Richard’s storyline, and Derek’s return. However, I was not expecting to enjoy any part of DeLuca’s farewell storyline and I was pleasantly surprised. I think that’s because they focused on the effects of grief and guilt and how everyone processes those emotions differently.

It was a really interesting character study on how each person feels a loss in their own way. Despite not liking the character I actually found DeLuca’s memorial service quite moving. I think it was because they found a creative way to do it and because funerals in the real world like we normally do aren't possible right now. My grandfather died last summer and while he didn’t want a funeral my family and I weren’t able to get together to mourn his loss as we usually would and that’s been hard.

I wasn’t particularly close with my grandfather, but the loss of traditional grieving rituals in this time of COVID-19 has been frustrating. I liked that they found a creative way to have the characters mourn the loss of a fellow staff member. I expected to see Carina more, but as I understand it her storyline played out more on Station 19 which makes sense. I felt like they did a good job of showing the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and how everyone experiences them differently.

Teddy and Owen displayed survivors' guilt and frustration that they did everything right and he still died. At the end we see Teddy in a catatonic state and it made me think that she might be sick with COVID herself or that there was something else wrong. While I've never been a Teddy and Owen shipper I did like the moment at the end where Owen noticed something was wrong and came over to her and told her that he would take her home and when she didn't respond he picked her up and carried her.

It reminded me of the Season 2 episode where Denny dies and Izzie refuses to leave his side so Alex picks her up and carries her over to a chair in her prom dress. Very different relationships, but a nice parallel in my opinion. This episode had a lot of those. Teddy seeing DeLuca in other people’s faces was freaky! I have to say that guy is way more interesting as a ghost then he ever was alive.  

I totally got Helm's reaction. I understand why she said and thought those horrible things about DeLuca. He was an ass for a really long time. I probably would have done the same thing myself, but that doesn't mean she wanted him dead. I thought what Maggie did for her was wonderful. My heart broke for Schmitt when he described his emotions. Richard was angry and Bailey went overboard trying to figure out what happened. Everyone's experience of a loss is different and I like that they showed that.

I’m glad that Richard told Bailey what she needed to hear. It was painful, but in trying to find an answer or a reason for what happened she was unintentionally hurting the people around her who were suffering too. The strength of Richard and Bailey's relationship is that they can tell each other the truth when no one else can or will. I loved his monologue to Catherine about trying to find a meaning in the puzzle of life and questioning his faith which is such a big part of his sobriety. James Pickens Jr. did a beautiful job in that scene.

Say what you want about Catherine, but I loved her response. Richard was trying to find meaning in the meaningless and in response she shared with him that her latest scans showed that the cancer hadn’t grown. Logically it should have, but it didn’t. Sometimes there are miracles and sometimes there are senseless deaths. Life is a puzzle. We don’t always understand it. That was exactly what Richard needed to hear in that moment.

On a more upbeat note, I loved the beach scenes this week! They were perfect! They were everything I dreamed of for my favourite characters and more! We got to see Derek and Meredith get closer and talk about the kids. When Meredith is heartbroken that Derek never got to meet Ellis or to know her he tells her all of these wonderful things about her. How she’s just like Meredith and makes it clear that he’s watching over them always.

He talks about Zola and how she writes to him in her journal and how Meredith taught her to ride a bike. I teared up! I've been waiting for them to discuss the kids and here it is! Hearing Derek talk about Ellis and knowing that he watches over Meredith and the kids was so emotional for me. I loved hearing him describe who she is and getting to learn more about her. I'm glad he encouraged her to go back. As much as Derek and Meredith miss each other she's needed back in the land of the living.

Her kids need her and so does everyone else. I loved Derek's gentle teasing. His facial expressions. And then there are her scenes with Hayes! God they were perfect! I've been waiting for this! I loved how Meredith kept joyfully asking him what he did to make Ellis smile so wide and laugh so loudly. She knows he can't hear her yet there she is dying to know what he said or did. The sound of her voice when she said that was everything for me. They already feel like a couple. So much in sync.

I love that Derek, who was shown to be extremely jealous in life, encouraged her to hear Hayes out. I really felt like he was giving her his blessing and the fact that they established that Hayes has met the kids virtually and they know who he is sealed the deal for me. Hayes has now received Cristina’s approval, Derek’s blessing, and is shown to have positive relationships with Meredith’s friends and family in Seattle. I loved that Hayes told Meredith to fight and talked about how her kids were doing and how everyone needs her.

I loved that he came and sat at her bedside and begged her to fight and not give up and that he talked to her even though he wasn’t sure if she could hear him. I love that he sat with her through the virtual memorial even though he wasn’t close to DeLuca and didn’t like him. The cheerful greeting and familiarity with which he greets Amelia and Zola and the stories he tells Meredith indicates that he’s been having regular video chats with Amelia, Maggie, Link, and the kids and that he’s chosen to stay by Meredith’s side when he just as easily could have left while she was on a call with her kids.  

It will also make the transition easier when do start dating because the kids will already know him. The music in this episode was really beautiful. Especially the songs that played during the beach scenes. I really enjoyed the drunken Link, Jo, and Jackson scene. I felt it brought much needed levity and humour to the episode the same way the beer scene with Jackson, Link, and Winston did in the previous episode. Their scenes were funny and raw and provided a good balance for the episode.

I also loved seeing more of Jo and Jackson's friends with benefits relationship and more of Jo and Link and Jackson and Link's friendship. I'd actually forgotten that Jackson and Link were friends so it was cool to see that dynamic again and that Link is supportive of their situation. The drinking game to me felt like a throwback to the Season 2 episode where Meredith and Cristina are at Joe’s Bar playing a game of whose life sucks the most and she tells them that Derek is married and Cristina tells her she’s pregnant. These revelations eventual lead to Cristina scheduling an abortion and declaring Meredith her person.

It was cool to see Maggie and Winston working together at Grey Sloan Memorial. Winston living in Boston was only going to go on for so long because as we've all found out this past year there's only so much you can do virtually. I knew he'd be moving to Seattle at some point and I'm glad to see him working at the hospital and hanging with Maggie's family. The scene where he danced it out with the kids was too cute! I'll be interested to see more of their dynamic moving forward as Maggie used to be his teacher and is now his boss. I'm also glad that both Winston and Hayes are finally getting the proper screen time they deserve.

Their storyline with the naked guy cracked me up! My two favourite lines of the episode were when the guy freaked out because he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and Maggie said, “You’re not wearing much of anything.” And when Maggie and Winston went looking for him and Zander Perez, the resident from Pac North, told them, “If you’re looking for a naked guy he went that way.” I laughed so hard!

The scenes with Zola got me. She is a real trouper. She definitely is Meredith Grey's daughter through and through. I'm a big believer in found family and one of the things Grey's does really is show that there are many different ways to be a family and that family is what you make of it. True family is made up of the people who love and support you unconditionally not genetics. I really love that they've shown the strength of that bond between Zola and her family.

My favourite hidden moment of the episode was Tom! He appears in the background at DeLuca's memorial which means he's getting better. If he's well enough to be outside at the memorial then his condition has greatly improved since last we saw and that's great! Tom's a wonderfully complex character and I'm glad he's doing better. He appears in a bunch of deleted scenes that were released through the Grey’s Anatomy Twitter account which I highly recommend. The writing in this episode was excellent!

This episode was written by Adrian Wenner whose previous credits include the Season 16 episode ‘A Hard Pill to Swallow’ in which Meredith and Hayes work that vaping case together and get to know each for the first time. Honestly, my only complaint about this episode is that I wish they’d done it sooner! I wish they had bumped this and the previous episode up. The Mid-Season Finale felt very anti-climatic to me and was poorly received by a lot of fans. I wish they had just scrapped that episode or combined it with what we saw in the Mid-Season Premiere and then jumped into this episode after the break. But we’re here now and that’s the important thing.

Onto next week’s promo. Damn does it look interesting! We see that Owen has brought Teddy home and she’s not eating or speaking and he’s worried if her condition does not improve he’ll have to admit her. I’m sure he’s having flashbacks to when Cristina did the same thing after the plane crash. She appears to be experiencing some kind of nightmare sequence where she sees DeLuca as a ghost and Meredith speaks to her. Looks intense!

Until next time!

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian "Hook" Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma "The Savior" Swan's career was cut short. When Hook's manager moves up and the office brings in UFC's youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3

[Chapter 1/?]

Tap gloves.

It’s not like he dreamed of being here.

Fake right hook.

Beating the shit out of someone is pretty much one of the only things that keeps Killian Jones numb.

Leg kick to left eye.

That and rum.

Elbow.

Does anyone really dream of beating the shit out of people for a living?

Left hook. Opponent stumbles.

Will Scarlett aside, he doesn’t think so.

Take down.

And maybe Jefferson… that bloke’s ring name is literally “Mad”.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Left.

He knows there’s good money in MMA, but when he got in a bar fight two—

Wrestle. Maneuver. Arm bar.

—years ago, he never thought it’d lead to this.

Tap tap tap.

Showtime.

Release a tad too late. Don’t help Graham up, let the trainers do it. Run to the side of the cage. Ramp up the fans. Arm raise.

“Hook, you just won by submission against The Huntsman. How does it feel to remain undefeated in our stacked featherweight division?”

Deep breath. Come on, Jones, put on your act for the camera.

“Issac, did you say stacked? Not gonna lie, mate, I’m not sure that term applies to me.” Well placed smirk.

Why are the lights so damn bright? He hears the crowd chanting his name, he supposes that’s because he’s on a homer card. Still unreal as ever.

“You’re probably right considering you absolutely dominated that entire match. You’re a latecomer to the sport but continue to make a name for yourself, even against much younger opponents. Is there a secret to all this fast success?”

Don’t cringe at the mention of your age; they think you want to be here.

“Aye, but if I told you on national television, it wouldn’t be a secret.” Wink at the camera. Smirk. “ Thanks for coming out, Boston!” The crowd cheers louder. “I may not have started here but I’ve called this city home for ten years now and I’ll be damned if I let you down.”

Hook! Hook! Hook! Hook!

“They love ya, Jones. Great match! Who do you wanna see next?”

“No one”, Killian thinks to himself. “ I want to get out of this bloody octagon and get some rum.” He turns to the exec table.

“I’ll take whoever you give me, Gold, no sweat. I’m going all the way to the championship, Issac. I’m in this to win it all.”

As if there’s another option.

Issac nods enthusiastically at him. Killian is apparently a better actor than he thought. “Great fight, Hook. Well, folks you heard it from the man himself. Killian “Hook” Jones wants the belt—“

Issac’s voice fades away. Killian does his obligatory selfie with his trainers, hugging Robin and heading out of the ring.

High five a fan. Selfie. Smirk at the brunette. Autograph. High five. Kiss the redhead’s knuckles. Fist bump.

Once in the locker room, he can finally breathe. Killian scrambles to shower and change, being sure to dodge Robin and August on his way out the door. He knows he’s supposed to stay for the other matches, but it’s been nine years today and he’s not in the fucking mood.

. . .

“But, Mooooom, it’s Fight Night!”

“Exactly why you’re off to bed. You’re way too young to be watching that live. I’ll show you highlights in the morning.” Emma has this conversation almost every Saturday night. She can’t blame the kid for liking UFC, he was technically conceived because of it, but nine is way too young and she’s not budging on this.

“But it’s a super good card!”

Emma rolls her eyes, “Copying what Uncle David says will get you negative points. Bed. Now. Go.”

Henry opens his mouth to argue again, but with one more look from Emma he thinks better and stomps off to bed. Emma laughs to herself knowing he’ll be out like a light in minutes, but she admires his stubbornness.

Emma finishes cleaning up the kitchen and then wanders in to check on Henry. Just as she suspected, he’s fast asleep with ESPN Magazine splayed across his lap. She shakes her head and smiles at him. Quietly, she moves the magazine, kisses him on the forehead, and shuts off the light, closing the door gently behind her.

Emma leaves Henry’s room to a knock at the door. As if on cue, David and Mary Margaret let themselves into her apartment with pizzas and a case of beer. After setting down the food, David walks up to Emma and kisses her on the temple. “Hey, sis! Henry asleep already?”

She scoffs at his lack of subtlety. “Yes, although it seems he had an accomplice in his attempts to stay awake for tonight.” Emma purses her lips knowingly as Mary Margaret slaps David’s shoulder.

“David! This show is too violent for adults let alone a nine year old .” David shrugs and turns to help his wife with the food.

As Emma gets the TV set up, Ruby shows up, barging in with a bottle of red wine and already talking a mile a minute. “Did you see the second match up?! These two are like the men of my dreams . God bless whoever decided Jones and Humbert should duke it out. I mean honestly, Ems, I may need you to turn up the air conditioning.”

Emma laughs at Ruby being… well Ruby. “Rubes, chill. I’m sure the network is fully aware of the ratings the two of them fighting will bring in.”

Mary Margaret speaks up a little too quickly, “Oh definitely! And both of them are so good, watching them fight sometimes makes me wish you still—“ She trails off at David’s hiss and Emma pretends she doesn’t notice.

“Alright, the first fight is about to start. Let’s do this.”

Despite being unable— maybe that’s not the right term— unwilling?— to fight anymore, Emma loves watching Fight Night.

Whenever she’s watching a fight she feels her body move on its own, mimicking their movements and mentally throwing punches and blocks of her own.

Emma Swan wasn’t good at much of anything, but she was a damn good fighter.

The first match is an overall bore. Going the entire 15 minutes and not even ending in a unanimous decision. Emma grabs another piece of pizza and the bowl of popcorn— thank god they let her keep the fighter rate for her gym membership— and settles in for the second fight.

Ruby is not wrong about these two.

Graham “The Huntsman” Humbert, vs. up and comer, Killian “Hook” Jones. She’s seen Graham around the circuit before, he’s somewhat of a regular face. Never doing much with his career but doing enough not to get kicked from the roster. Killian, she’s only seen fight a few times, but he trains at her gym, supposedly also based out of Boston, so she’s seen him there.

She scoffs to herself. He may have the looks, but he knows it. He approached her once, confidence seeping off of him like sweat:

“Emma ‘The Savior’ Swan.”

Emma whips around at the use of her ring name. Most people at this gym know who she is, but leave her alone to work out and go home. “Yes that’s me.” She looks up at him in hopes of serving him her best ‘get the fuck out of here’ stare, but stutters when she sees how absolutely stunning he is.

“Stunning, Emma? Really?” She thinks to herself, but then realizes there really isn’t another word for the blue of his eyes… or his British accent.

“Killian ‘Hook’ Jones.” He puts out his left hand, catching Emma off guard, most fighters being right handed. As if he could read her mind he continues, “You know, for my killer left hook.” He drops her hand with a wink.

A fucking wink. Who does this guy think he is?

“Clever.” Emma knows she’s being icy but she’s almost done with her workout and really doesn’t have time to put up with some cocky new guy.

“Aye, Gold thought so.” He smirks at her and she rolls her eyes, regretting the satisfaction it gives him immediately.

“I’m sure he did.”

“And why, ‘The Savior’, Swan? I’m not sure I know that back story.” Emma flinches at his bluntness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She realizes she’s practically flirting before she can stop herself.

He catches her gaze, “Perhaps I would.”

She doesn’t expect such a sincere response.

Brick meet wall. Hello, darkness, my old friend or something like that.

“Huh,” she scoffs noncommittally, “Nice to meet you, Jones, but I’ve gotta get back to my work out.”

He nods, seeming a bit jilted at her lack of interest. She does her best to keep a straight face at that realization, happy to knock anyone that arrogant down a few pegs. “Aye, Swan, me as well. See you around, love.”

She takes a swig from her water bottle and almost chokes at his casual use of the pet name. “ Not your love.” He raises his hands in mock surrender and Emma carries on with her day.

Somehow the same man she was insanely annoyed by, has completely entranced her with his fighting style. It’s clean and polished, definitely trained but with this edge of a street fighter which almost seems almost instinctual.

Leg kick, elbow, left hook, take down, arm bar, submission.

Humbert didn’t have a chance.

Jones makes it look too easy.

Emma is snapped out of whatever spell she was under the moment he opens his mouth to do his interview with Issac, the same cocky asshat she spoke to in the gym now on her TV screen.

“Wait! I didn’t know he fought for Boston.” Ruby rounds on Emma. “Did you ever see him at the gym?!”

Emma shrugs, “A few times.” She refuses to tell M or Ruby about their conversation, both of them likely to twist it into some UFC enemies to lovers story that makes Emma want to barf. Lucky for Emma the next fight starts and with the sound of “Mad” Jefferson Hatter’s entrance music, and the entire room seems to forget all about Killian “Hook” Jones.

Continue on AO3

[beyondflashpoint]

Prologue 1: Bedtime stories.

John massaged his temple. He’d been pouring through ancient tomes and cross referencing half forgotten folklore for what felt like hours. He sat back in his overstuffed chair, considered lighting a cigarette, then recalled the one unlit, currently pressed between his lips. How long had it been there? He needed a break.

“Da- ... John?” The little voice inquired from the doorway. John slowly raised his eyes.

The child had been in his care for over a year now. Looking at her now, wearing an adults band tee like a nightgown and dragging the large stuffed bat she carried everywhere, it was hard to remember how dangerous she could be.

“Well, what have we here? Little Bird escaped her cage?”

She smiled at the affectionate nickname, but there was still fear in her eyes.

John Constantine had never once thought of himself as anything close to fatherly. After all, his own dear old dad had been nothing short of a five-star bastard. But she wanted to call him dad, wanted him to be a father to her. Seeing her, putting on a brave face, but desperately craving comfort and company, it reminded him why he had taken the girl from a dying world, a dying mother, and her own five-star bastard. He moved in a way that only a concerned father can move, a delicate balance between caution so as not to startle, and haste to provide that comfort she was practically begging for. In moments he had scooped her up, cradled like a princess in his arms.

“Bad dreams again Rachael?” He asked tenderly. She nodded.

“Can’t get back to sleep then either, I take it?” She shook her head.

He pointed at he stuffed bat, now held in a chokehold by her scrawny little arms.

“Now you listen here Batsy, I told you more than once that you’re supposed to keep our girl safe.” A stern voice, usually reserved for pit fiends and people fooling with things they didn’t understand. John Constantine was upbraiding a stuffed toy. If that ever got out it’d be the end of his reputation. But bullocks to that.

“His name is Bartok. And he’s just a stuffed animal.” But she was giggling, genuine and true.

John exited the study carrying the girl back to bed. Neither noticed that the doorway which had previously opened into the foyer now deposited them on the second floor landing, a few doors down from Rachael’s bedroom. This was the House of Mystery, and it changed to suit its owner’s needs. Thankfully it knew John well enough to know that carrying a six year old child up a flight of stairs was a little excessive.

“That’s not entirely true, now is it luv? We studied totems and objects of power just last week. You’ve given him a name, and you carry him with you everywhere. Bartok is probably absolutely pulsing with magical energy. With the right focus and a solid incantation Barty could be a regular supercharged dream catcher.”

He was laying her down now, pulling the covers over her, but making sure to leave the bat’s stitch’s smile free. Rachael listened intently and nodded.

“Zatanna will be here all day tomorrow. I’m sure if you ask really nicely she’ll help you.”

“Is she doing a magic show right now?”

John smiled and nodded.

“Some of us have day jobs. You’ll want to follow her lead on that. Don’t be a deadbeat like ol’ Johnny boy.” He ended with a silly face, and was rewarded with another giggle.

“We’ll have to tell Zee to get you some proper sleepwear. I’m not sure how I feel about a six year old trundling about in a Mucous Membrane tee that’s older than Christ.”

“I like it. Zatanna says it’s the band you were in when you were a teenager. Uncle Boston let me listen to some of your songs, but he made me promise not to tell. He said there were bad words.”

“Did he now? I’ll have to have a talk with ‘Uncle Boston’ later. Punk is for your rebellious teenage years.” He smiled to show he was joking, but mentally cursed Boston Brand for starting her off with his old rubbish. “All tucked in. Close your eyes now Little Bird. Try and sleep.”

He started to stand, but the girl’s eyes doubled in size, wordlessly begging him not to go. He settled his weight once more.

“How’s about a story then?”

She immediately brightened.

“Will you tell me a Hellblazer story?”

John laughed.

“Those stories are a bit too dark for you Little Bird. When your older. Promise. I was thinking something a bit more age appropriate. With dragons.”

Her face dropped.

“A fairy tale?”

“Not exactly, luv. By all accounts this is a true story.”

She quirked an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It does begin a long time ago, in a land far away. About a thousand years ago. In a land called Nol. It was a different dimension. Nol was a peaceful kingdom, in the heights power. Arts, sciences, magic. A true utopia by all accounts. Streets of gold and all that. Actually,” he smirked, leaning onto his side, and gesturing with one hand while chanting under his breath. Sparks of gold light shot from his fingers, and after a few quick twirls, he flicked them towards the ceiling with a flourish. “Better to show than tell, innit?”

The sparks of gold fluttered and danced, multiplied, and arranged themselves into an image. Rachael gasped and watched in wide-eyed wonder that briefly made John understand Zatanna’s Copperfeild routine. Hovering above them, at an angle suited for a child to fall asleep to, the streets of Nol took shape, exactly as John pictured them when he read about them.

Polished marble walls rose ever skyward the tallest among them of height with a modern skyscraper. The streets, onyx, not gold, sloped downward in a gentle incline towards the port, and the sea beyond. All manner of strange vessels were docked there, traders and travelers from strange unknown lands. The great gates of the walled city were many, made of bronze, and flanked by the figures of many fantastic beasts. Here a griffin, there a sphinx, manticores, and many others beyond listing. The houses were of chalcedony or marble, with each their own walled gardens. No workers tools had ever touched these stones, and in fact it looked more like the stone had grown into the shapes they now held.

Of that same seemingly grown stone was the palace, directly in the city’s center. The highest of its towers dwarfed the Great Wall of Nol. And there were many towers. The palace was an opulent thing of soaring towers and impossible domed buildings, of high bridges between towers that seemed impossibly fragile from below.

The child consumed every detail with awestruck wonder.

“The people of Nol enjoyed a thousand years of peace, power, and prosperity. Now, the thing about good times is that they make people soft. See, the soldiers of Nol, save a few brave fools, had grown fat and confident. Sure there were a handful of knights and soldiers who traveled the countryside solving problems and seeking honor and all that rubbish, but mostly the good people of Nol believed nothing bad would ever happen to them.”

“And that’s exactly when something bad happened to them, right John?”

“That’s right. That’s the first lesson in this story, Little Bird. Prepare for the worst, and always expect it to get worse.” She nodded.

“And so, it was a great shock, then, when the dragon came.” The image of the city was replaced with the silhouette of a dragon, a massive thing with glowing eyes. The earth seemed to tremble at its wingbeats and Rachael gasped at the sight of it. “The Primordial Serpent, The Conqueror Wyrm, Malkior. From the east the dragon came, in the late hours after the sun had set. The beating of his mighty wings stirred the whole city to waking, and the soldiers, who were used to only marching about and yelling at rowdy kids prepared for a fight. The first fight for most of em.”

Even as he spoke, images of soldiers rushing too and fro in panicked chaos replaced that of the dragon.

“Now, the great dragon made quick work of the city’s walls, with his great claws and his mighty tail, and even quicker work of the inexperienced troopers practically throwing themselves at him. Even those brave knights who had returned to the city failed to even scratch the dragon’s mighty scales. All seemed lost for Nol, as the beast made his way towards the heart of the great city, intent on the palace and full of sinister purpose.”

Though Constantine had made sure the images were age appropriate, Rachael had pulled the covers up to her nose and was squeezing Bartok tightly.

“But, and this is the most important lesson from this story, it is always better to be clever than it is to be brave, or strong. And very luckily for Nol, there just so happened to be a very clever mage named Rorek. See Rorek had spent his whole life studying magic specially to kill Malkior. Rorek happened to be in the palace, studying magic with the king’s high mage, and when he heard the beating of those sinister wings he knew exactly what to do. Armed with naught but his personal spell book and his wits, Rorek claimed the tallest tower in the palace of Nol to face his hated foe.” The words flowing forth from John were just as magical as the scenes mirroring them to the little girl, and she fought against drooping eyelids to not miss the epic battle she knew was fast approaching.

“ The dragon reached the palace just as Rorek emerged on the tower’s roof.

‘Hark dem-“

“Do the voices.” The girl demanded in a voice laden with sleep. John could think of no reason to refuse.

“ ‘Hark demon! I am Rorek! For too long you have burned and killed and destroyed unchecked and unopposed. I oppose thee now!’” The voice he used now was softer, and a bit more proper. One might allege that he based it off one Jason Blood, though Constantine would never confirm this if pressed on it.

“ ‘Little man,’ said the dragon,” in a voice not dissimilar to Jason’s better half, “ ‘ I am the destroyer, the defiler, the conqueror. I am Malkior! I have seen worlds rise and fall, only to rise again. I have slain kings and emperors, heroes and champions. Who are you to think to stand against me?’ And Rorek stood tall and began his spells. The battle was fearsome, for Malkior too was versed in powerful and ancient magics. It seemed for every spell, hex or curse Rorek threw at Malkior, the dragon knew it’s counter. But Rorek was clever, and even while casting an unending torrent of spells, he prepared his last trick.

‘Foul beast, demon that you are, thy name does not suit thee, but nonetheless, Malkior, I call thee by thy true name, and by thy name bind thee!’

And the dragon roared with fury, lashing, thrashing and cursing even as he was pulled into Rorek’s book and bound. But with a final curse, disaster struck, and the tower which had been the scene of their epic battle was reduced to rubble, and Rorek was lost. But Nol remembered its hero, and until it’s final days celebrated the triumph of Rorek of Nol.”

As the final scene came to a close, the image faded, and the swirling cloud of golden dust dissipated and dissolved.

“So you see-“ John cut off as he turned to look at the girl and found her snoring softly.

He smiled, whispering an enchantment to ward against bad dreams, and brushing her hair back, kissed her forehead to seal the spell in place.

The barrage of vision and memory came with shocking clarity and coherence. Had he not been seated, John would have been knocked off his feet. The things he saw would haunt him for years to come.

It took time to compose himself well enough to stand, much less return to the study, where, hours later Zatanna found him, cigarette in one hand, scotch in the other.

It had been some time since Zee had seen John this upset. It was only after a second and third drink that he smoothed his unruly blond hair back, took a deep breath and spoke.

“We need to talk about Rachael. And her dreams.”

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter Thirteen)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 3,150

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve}

I adjusted the knotted white cardigan as I looked in the mirror. There was something about the pink crop top and high waisted shorts that just made me feel confident. There was quiet chatter from the kitchen as I walked in. It felt so right to just be in the same house as everyone instead of constantly having to drive to separate apartments and houses. My thoughts went to what an adjustment it would be to no longer have everyone so close. A slight sadness came over me as I imagined the silence that would happen once we were home. There was a part of me that wished I could just have Ashton or Calum move in with me so it wouldn’t have to happen, but I knew that wouldn’t be a possibility. They had their own lives that required their own space instead of moving in with me. As well as the fact that eventually, they would have to leave for tour again. I sighed as I poured a cup of coffee, catching Crystal’s attention.

“What’s the pout for?” she asked. 

“Nothing. Sorry. What are we up to today?” I asked. 

“Well, I think we are going to need some food in here so do you wanna go do a food shop with me?” she asked.

Crystal always had some way of making me cheer up a bit. The mention of food and shopping was just what I needed to bring the pep back in my step. I nodded happily.

“Great! Hey Mike, did the rental come this morning?” 

“Already in the driveway!” he called back. 

“Keys?”

It felt like I was intruding on a conversation as they continued talking without being right in front of each other. It made me think about if Luke and I did the same thing. Crystal took me out of my thoughts as she tossed me the keys.

“I’m driving?”

“Thought you’d appreciate the rental,” she said, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she led me outside.

My eyes widened as I stared at the navy blue G-Wagon that was parked in the driveway. If my memory was serving me correctly, this was an extremely expensive car. It almost felt like I was touching something that I wasn’t good enough for as I held the key in hand. I looked over to Crystal and she was laughing at me.

“You seriously want me to drive this?” I asked.

“That’s why I gave you the key,” she giggled. 

I glared a little before I unlocked the car. Crystal gestured for me to join her in the car as she slid into the passenger seat. I cautiously walked over and climbed into the driver’s seat. The leather steering wheel felt smooth and the cushioned seat made it feel like I was sitting on a throne of some sort. 

“Why the hell did you guys rent this?” I asked as I adjusted the seat and mirrors.

“Luke mentioned how much you loved them,” she said with a shrug.

Of course Luke had said something. We had driven by the Mercedes dealership multiple times and all of those times, I had said something about how beautiful the G-Wagons were. A small bit of the pain ebbed away as I reversed out of the driveway. He had put so much into this vacation to make it the best vacation for me and everyone else. It was the special touches though that had my heart skipping a beat. I was quiet for most of the GPS-guided drive as my thoughts were swirling around Luke. 

“The top looks way better on you than it ever has on me,” Crystal commented as we got out of the car. 

“Doubt it. My yellow one looks way better on you,” I argued.

Our laughs mixed in the air as she grabbed a cart. What was life going to be like without them around to have these silly arguments with on a daily basis?

“So what do we need?” I asked, noticing the list she had. 

“Each of the boys made me a list of what they thought was necessary. There’s some crossover. Here,” she said. 

I glanced over the list, surprised by how much healthy food was on it. My eyes looked up, ASH written on the top of it. My surprise faded as I turned the list over and saw all the junk food Calum and Michael had written down. 

“No Luke recommendations?” I asked. 

“He was confident that the other guys covered everything,” she said, shrugging again.

While she grabbed some apples and mangos, I read the list more carefully. Several of Luke’s favorite foods were missing including the mango juice he liked. Was I supposed to fill in the blanks here and just put his favorite stuff in the cart? We walked past the vegetables, Crystal grabbing some carrots and celery. I forced myself to grab the spinach leaves that I knew Luke liked in salads. 

“That on the list?” she asked as I set in the cart.

“No,” I replied, voice trailing off.

“Es, you know you don’t have to prove yourself to him right?” she asked out of nowhere. 

My eyes went wide from the question. I hadn’t grabbed the item to impress Luke, had I?

“He hates regular lettuce and refuses to eat it ninety percent of the time. He’s an idiot for not writing his own list, but I’m not going to torture him just because we aren’t currently speaking,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Crystal laughed and stopped walking so she could face me.

“What else did he forget?” she asked. 

“Mango juice, gummy worms, baked chips, and the whole milk he likes in his coffee,” I sighed. 

Her laugh filled my ears again making me groan. I felt like a little kid being teased by someone on the playground. There was nothing wrong with my memory of Luke’s tastes. We were friends before any romantic feelings were brought to light. I figured that he’d do the same for me if I hadn’t made a list. 

“Shut up,” I groaned and gently pushed her shoulder. 

We continued walking throughout the grocery store, grabbing anything we wanted and what the boys wanted. It was nice being like this with Crystal. The whole thing felt like I was contributing to the house and the sadness from this morning came back. Who was I going to do this for when I moved into my house alone?

“So, I talked to Luke about the art gallery opening,” Crystal said.

My eyes widened yet again and I stopped walking. I heard the familiar sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears as my nerves kicked in.

“And?”

“He wants to go with you just like I said he would,” she said. 

The way she spoke about it made it sound like it wasn’t that big of a deal. To me, it was the absolute biggest deal. With Luke and I not speaking, I had completely forgotten about the art gallery opening. I still really wanted to go, but that all came down to Luke actually taking me. Our fighting made me think that he wouldn’t be able to do it, but as Crystal’s words were processed by my brain, I became full of hope. I had gotten so lost in the hurt that Luke had caused that I forgot about why we couldn’t be together. Lost in thought, I still grabbed Luke’s mango juice and put it in the cart. It was time to talk to him. 

                                                      ➢➢➢

“Please tell me you haven’t worked out yet,” I said as I walked into Ashton’s room. 

He looked up at me with a smile on his face, not at all surprised by the sudden intrusion.

“Not yet. Why?” he asked.

I noticed the way he was looking at me, like he knew I needed to do something other than sit in my thoughts. 

“Because I want to go for a run and I don’t want to go alone,” I said.

It was half of the truth. The other half included Luke and my serious need to talk to someone about it so I could sort my thoughts before actually talking to him. Ashton looked down and finally noticed the workout shorts and tank top along with my running shoes.

“Give me like two minutes to change,” he said. 

I quickly left and leaned against the wall by the door. Ashton was the first person I wanted to talk this out with and the increasing stress that was coming with it required a release. The only way I felt like it would happen was going on a run. Ashton opened the door wearing shorts and running shoes. His body was more toned under the shirt he was wearing. He led the way out of the house and waited for me to sync my headphones up. 

“Remember, try to keep up,” he said, pressing play and taking off. 

My feet fell into the beat of the song, glancing to check my watch. “Body” by Loud Luxury featuring Brando popped up. I focused on the bass, letting the song guide me through the Cape Cod streets as Ashton was only slightly ahead of me. We kept going until we found ourselves downtown. We slowed, needing a moment to catch our breaths. I took my headphones out and gave him a small smile. 

“Wanna tell me the real reason you wanted to go for a run?” he asked while we started walking. 

“Luke,” I said simply. 

Ashton nodded before leading me into a small coffee shop. I waited patiently while he ordered us both a bottle of water. We sat at a table by the window and Ashton set his eyes on me. 

“Lay it on me,” he said, crossing his fingers together.

“Crystal gave Luke tickets to an art gallery opening in Boston and he said he’d go with me and she had already talked to me about it before he kissed that other girl and now I completely forgot about why we can’t really be together and now I think I should talk to him about it, but I don’t know what I’d say,” I said, talking faster than I meant to.

It was like the words were exploding out of me. He laughed and let me take a drink of water. 

“Well, what do you want the conversation to accomplish?” he asked.

I gave him a look of are you seriously asking me that before he pressed me to answer.

“I want it to end with us finally being on the same page again,” I said.

He took a moment, processing the information before looking at me again.

“You have to be open and honest with him, bugs. The only way you two are going to get past this is if you lay it all out there for him. You also can’t just jump down his throat at the first chance you get. I know what he did hurt you and that it has been stuck in your head, but he wants to move past it too,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand. 

I looked up at him, seeing the genuine hope in his eyes. He squeezed my hand while waiting patiently for my response.

“What if my putting it all out there sends him away?” I asked, unable to meet his eye as I spoke.

“It won’t. He loves you so much and there’s not a thing you could do to change that,” he said. 

I nodded again, going through possible conversations in my head. Ashton squeezed my hand again causing me to look at him. His hazel eyes had changed to showing his concern. 

“Crystal said that you were a little sad this morning,” he said. 

I sighed and pulled my hand away. The water cooled me down a little, but there was still a heavy tone to the conversation.

“I was a little sad this morning,” I admitted.

“Why?” he asked right away.

“When we leave here, we’re all going back to our separate homes. I’m moving into a completely new home by myself. That sense of family is going to be gone and it scares me,” I said. 

Ashton sighed and took my hand again, this time pulling it from the water bottle I was playing with. 

“I am still your family when we aren’t living in the same house,” he said firmly.

“I know that. Believe me I do, but this whole vacation has made me love creating an environment that has everyone always around and with it ending, that whole thing is going away,” I said, trailing off. 

“We can come over all the time,” he said.

“That isn’t the same. It’ll be fine,” I said, brushing him off and pulling my hand away. 

I finished my water bottle and got up to recycle it. We walked back out into the bustle of downtown, the flags flying around in the breeze. Ashton paused as I started walking towards the way we came in.

“Are you sure that isn’t bothering you more than you’re letting on?” he asked.

My feet stopped as I looked up at him. He was full of concern and there was some tension in his shoulders.

“Yes because it’s something I’m going to have to get over anyways.”

                                                     ➢➢➢

I tied my hair into a braid and I pulled on the outfit from this morning after my shower. Again, it brought me some extra confidence as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The cloud of sadness had dissipated from this morning, my determination to just be in the present taking over. I stepped out of the bathroom, carrying the things I had brought with me back to my room. As I opened the door, Luke was sitting on one of the couches. 

“Hey,” I said cautiously. 

I tossed my workout clothes into the hamper that was in the closet. My nerves were kicking in as we occupied the same space. He stood from the couch and looked at the ocean from the sliding door. 

“Hi,” he said, his tone just as unsure as mine. 

My palms were sweating as I walked over to stand next to him. The tension between us was thick and I wished that it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 

“Crystal gave me tickets to an art gallery opening tomorrow,” he said. 

This was an interesting way to start the conversation, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about the other stuff. 

“That was nice of her,” I said. 

“She said that we should go together,” he said even more carefully.

The way he was talking made it sound like he was purposefully picking his words to have a certain meaning. 

“Do you want to go together?” I asked. 

“I was going to ask you that,” he said, the smallest of smiles coming over his face.

I laughed a little before finally looking over at him. He was still facing the water, but the sun was casting a glow behind him that made him look like an angel. 

“I would like to go with you,” I said.

“Great. I’ll um, I’ll go finalize that then,” he said, quickly turning to walk away. 

As I was about to call his name, the door closed behind him. Was he avoiding me now? I thought more about the art gallery opening and then it dawned on me that there would be a lot of press there. Before I was able to stop myself, the dial tone of my phone was in my ear.

“Yes Estelle?” my father asked upon answering.

“I was invited to an art gallery opening with Luke and I would really like to go but you said I wasn’t able to be seen with him again,” I said quickly.

There was a sigh on the other end and I sensed him rolling his eyes.

“Fine, but any press that asks you questions, you are required to talk about my upcoming project and not to mention under any circumstances your teaching career,” he said firmly.

“Understood. Anything else?” I asked, careful to keep my tone from sounding like I was annoyed.

“Don’t make it look like you’re with him and if you do, you know what’ll happen Estelle,” he said before hanging up.

My heart stopped a little as his words echoed through my head. How was I supposed to go to the opening and not tell Luke about my father’s threats. It wouldn’t be possible anymore. I had to fess up to him. As I was about to head to Luke’s room, my phone rang again. 

“Hello?” I asked.

“Estelle! It’s Junie from the realtors!” she said cheerfully.

“Oh hi! How’s everything going?” I asked. 

This was it. The call about the house I was attempting to purchase. It was like the world stopped spinning as I waited for her to tell me the news. 

“Well you have a beautiful new home to move into on August first!” she cheered. 

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief flooded my senses as I felt excitement start thrumming through me. 

“That’s amazing! Thank you so much!” I said. 

“Of course. We’ll go over more details once you get the keys. Any interior designers can come and give quotes sometime next week, but I understand that you’re on vacation so don’t worry about that right now. We’ll be in touch soon!” she said. 

“Absolutely!” I barely got out before she was hanging up. 

I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my shorts and ran down the stairs. My eyes searched for Ashton, finding him out on the walkway to the beach. I took off towards him, my footsteps thudding against the wood. He turned and cocked his head as he watched me run to him. Before I was able to slow down, he picked me up and spun me around.

“What’s got you so happy bugs?” he asked. 

My feet touched the ground and I felt the excitement buzzing around me. 

“I got the house!” I said. 

Ashton’s face lit up before he was hugging me again, lifting me off the ground slightly. Once he set me back down, he stared at me. 

“I’m proud of you,” he said happily.

“I just can’t believe I got the house,” I said.

“I can. You deserve this,” he said.

I smiled up at him unable to stop the giant grin on my face. He reciprocated it before it changed to one that looked like he was thinking really hard. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked.

When he met my eyes, there was a glint of mischief in them before a smile came over his face. 

“Want a roommate?”

A.N.: I hope you guys liked this chapter! I promise there is some great stuff coming. You’re not ready for it. 

tag loves: @thruheavenandhighwater​ @bbycal​ @emptysanity​ @floraldawg​ @tommossoccer​ @cakesunflower​

[jossisarose]

BASICS

Name: Joss Alex Rose

Alias: Joss , JossIsARose (Social Media)

Pronouns: They/Them & He/Him

Age: 29

Date of Birth: November 13th

Gender: Genderqueer (AFAB)

Sexual Preference: Queer

Occupation: Costume Designer and Professional Cosplayer

Personality

Positive

creative

driven

independent

Negative

fickle

withdrawn

jaded

FAMILY

People

Mom: Millie Rose

Twin: Marley Rose

Pets

Cat: Lena

PAST

Hometown: Plant City Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, Florida

triggers: instance of misgendering and reference to Joss’s dead name early on, stalking, violence, rape, self harm, substance abuse

[dead name mention] Joss Rose wasn’t always who they are now. Once upon a different time, Joss was Jocelyn and “she” was troubled. Or so people liked to think. Born the youngest of a set of twins, to a single mother, Joss never really fit into gender norms, or societal norms, for that matter. Whether it was going without a bra until long after most girls started wearing one, a disinterest in anything outside of their art, or an increasingly morbid sense of humor, Joss was an outcast from day one. Small town life was often the bane of Joss’s existence.

As a child, Joss enjoyed Little Mermaid, but more importantly, Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea. Joss related to Melody on a level that they didn’t quite relate to Ariel. It sparked a love of all things mermaid, and all things Disney, in them and their art portrayed this. Their mother, Millie, taught them to sew and crochet, two activities that seemed to be the only “feminine” thing about their interests. They would alternate between drawing and painting to crochet and sewing, often designing their own clothes. They weren’t necessarily nerdy, but they had their loves. Mostly it was things like Harry Potter, Doctor Who, or other such media, but they also had a love of sports, predominantly hockey. They were a huge Tampa Bay Lightning fan and would often go to games when they had the chance. They were an excellent runner and ran track all throughout middle and high school.

However, in school they did often struggled with anything involving a majority of their body being seen by other people, but especially changing for PE and track. The idea of getting changed in front of other people unnerved them. It was when they felt most vulnerable, most exposed. It was also when they felt the least like themself. Seeing a female body under typically masculine clothing really hurt, but living in a small town, that was only known for a festival based on strawberries that often invited country and Christian musicians, being anything but straight and cisgender was asking for trouble. More trouble than Joss needed.

In high school, as their sense of self wavered further they withdrew into themself, their passion for costume design became even more apparent. They started cosplaying, attending conventions all over the state of Florida, as a way to be themself, without being themself. They tended to cosplay male characters, taking pride in their ability to pass a male, but refusing to think anything of it, in terms of how they felt. It was this that led them to find a college with a crafts department, where they could major in costume design.

They skipped eleventh grade and then received an early acceptance letter to Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, PA. With permission from their mother, and a number of legal officials, Joss took off. Moving from small town life, to big city, took Joss by surprise. They were in a place where people who weren’t straight and cisgender were more widely accepted, which made trying to find themself much easier. As a freshman, Joss began to experiment, with a lot of things. Between sexuality and gender identity, they found out a lot more about themself than they were ever expecting. This included the realization that they were trans.

For Joss, the idea of being anything but a female made perfect sense. They tried a lot of things over the next few years, in an attempt to figure out just who they were. They knew they didn’t identify fully as male, and definitely had no intentions to transition, but for the longest time couldn’t figure out just how they felt. Outside of gender being a completely social construct, they needed a label. It came in the form of the terms “genderqueer” and “non-binary” as well as the idea that there was an area between female and male. To Joss, being both agender and male made more sense and they quickly began to explore it as a full identity.

By the time Joss graduated, they had legally changed their name, going with a gender neutral name, as a way to alleviate the pressure from being misgendered, which quickly became a sore spot. Given their more feminine features, being called by male pronouns was a difficult thing to get across, especially given their decision to not transition. When they discovered the singular they as a pronoun, Joss jumped at the chance to use it. While it’s still hard to get people to use it, and they often encourage people to use male pronouns if unable to use it, the singular they felt right.

While in college, between balancing a job with the Pittsburgh CLO and cosplay commissions, their career as a cosplayer, youtuber, and twitch streamer took off. They won a number of cosplay contests and with their youtube channel they really became a household name in the Pittsburgh convention scene. Shortly after graduating from college they were a featured cosplayer on Syfy’s Heroes of Cosplay. They would then go on to be one of Twitch’s first partners and earn the money needed to move out to LA.

Once stationed in LA, Joss went headfirst into life as a streamer and cosplayer. Between winnings at cosplay contests, being invited as a guest to larger and larger conventions, their streaming, and their cosplay commissions, Joss was able to establish a life for themself. One that allowed them to take on international conventions and get their name even more known around the world. In 2015, they were invited as a guest to San Diego Comic Con, and took on a job as a costume designer for Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Thus sparking both their spot as a returning guest to SDCC, NYCC, and a job with DC as a costume designer for their films and consultant on their shows.

[stalking tw / violence tw] However, after a number of years in LA, Joss found themself overwhelmed by a growing fame that was starting to trouble them. They were more frequently recognized in public and with that came danger. Joss ended up being stalked repeatedly and it ended in a number of physical altercations and the cops being called. After over a year of court battles and a restraining order, Joss decided to leave LA. Their initial destination wasn’t Clover City, TN but they had someone who had commissioned a costume dress from them for some big pageant and was informed that the town could use someone with their talent. It was close to Nashville but just far enough that Joss didn’t think they’d have to worry about being recognized too often.

In the two years they’ve been in Clover City, Joss has flourished. They’ve done more work for the DCEU and found their place in the world again. Just famous enough to be recognized when they visit bigger cities for conventions but just the guy next door with the great sewing skills to everyone in town. The perfect balance they’d been missing in their life while in LA.

[rape tw / self harm tw / substance abuse tw] Under the seemingly perfect surface, however, Joss is starting to fall apart. While it’s been two years since they escaped the hell that was LA, Joss has only now started processing everything that happened to them. Including the fact that part of the court battles involved reliving multiple instances of rape. In trying to cope with it all, Joss has started being self destructive, both in the form of self medicating and self harm. Doing anything they can to stop the way their hands constantly shake and the nightmares that plague what sleep they get around their busy schedule.

Joss maintains various forms of social media that pertain directly to their career. Their twitch channel is often filled with in-cosplay gaming, cosplay building, and even live convention coverage. Their youtube channel is full of cosplay videos, tutorials on everything from how to sew to how to pack cosplays for conventions without breaking them, and everything in between.

When they’re not working, Joss spends their time running, watching hockey, hanging out in clubs, playing video games, or hanging out with their cat, Lena. They run at least one marathon a year, but typically more, and have even run the Boston and New York marathons. They have a giant comics collection and an annual pass for both Disneyland and Disney World. They’re also an avid swimmer.

CREDITS

Syfy’s Heroes of Cosplay (2013) - Cast Youtube (2014) - Hit 1 million subscribers Twitch (2014) - Became partner Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) - Costume Designer Wonder Woman (2017) - Costume Designer Birds of Prey: And the Fabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn (2020) - Costume Designer Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) - Costume Designer San Diego Comic Con (2015 - Present) - Featured Cosplay Guest New York Comic Con (2016 - Present) - Featured Cosplay Guest

APPEARANCE

General

Face Claim: Melissa Benoist

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Brunet & Blond

Height: 5'8"

Biological Sex: Female

Gender Identity: Genderqueer

Gender Expression: Androgynous

Other

Tattoos: tbd

Scars: tbd

Piercings: Ears and Nose

Hair Cut/Style:

Joss typically wears their hair loose around their shoulders, but will occasionally pull it back into a braid or low ponytail.

Clothes/Style:

On a regular basis, tends to stick to more of a punk-lite style, mixing comfort with style. They enjoy wearing beanies, leather, and anything with studs. If they go out, they definitely tend to wear a lot of necklaces and/or bracelets. When it comes to formal wear, they really like suspenders and bowties.

Make Up:

While Joss doesn’t always wear anything more than concealer/foundation to correct for sitting in front of bright lights while on stream, they appreciate a good lipstick and are rarely seen without black nail polish, at least outside of cosplay.

[jrcashwrites]

Flip Zimmerman Headcanons

Get enough Coors in him and he will dance. Ron was shocked when one late night at the Red Lantern, Flip and Patrice danced their way down the soul train line and Flip had moves, goddamn! The next morning Flip refused to acknowledge he ever did such a thing and it was never spoken about again, but Ron made sure the whole station knew about it.

Flip likes watching sports. He’s not a die-hard fan, but on the rare lazy Sunday he isn’t working, he’ll watch the Broncos. Sometimes the guys around the station will have a game on the radio and he’ll half pay attention as he works.  As a kid, he was an avid baseball card collector and still has most of them shoved in his closet in a shoe box. 

Flip is the very definition of a perpetual bachelor. Between his work hours and frankly not caring, his tiny apartment is a mess (dirty dishes, filled ashtray, piles of laundry tossed onto the couch). He never makes his bed. He does take out the trash on a regular basis, he doesn’t aim to be completely disgusting. His truck is much the same with discarded papers and snack wrappers covering the front seat. Flip is the type of person where even though it may look a mess, he knows where everything is if asked.  

The Star of David necklace he wears was a family heirloom from his grandmother. Always wears it not as a profession of his faith but as a keepsake and in memory of her.  Flip had a rather rough relationship with his father, especially during his teenage years, and his grandmother would always hear him out if he needed someone to talk to, something he rarely opened up about with anyone else.  

Earned his nickname “Flip” in the police academy.  He always thought Phillip was too proper anyways and got off easy considering the other cadets were calling him “Ears” for the first few weeks. 

Goes camping in the mountains once a year by himself. He doesn’t get a chance to be a true mountain man often, but he’ll drive his truck up to a secluded spot and hike out for a day or two. It gives him a chance to clear his mind and not think about cases for a bit. Packs only what he needs: a tent, gun, knife and other basic things. Growing up in Colorado, he learned about wilderness survival early on and spent a few summers as a kid at boy scout camp.  He thinks about one day owning a cabin way out in the middle of nowhere, nothing fancy, but a little place with a wood burning stove he could live off the land in.   

Wishes he could own a dog- a big shepherd or husky- but works too much to properly care for a pet. 

Likes bands like Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Boston, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rush and the Allman Brothers. Sometimes he chills out by having a beer and listening to records but doesn’t seek out new music or purchase it very often. He’s got his favorites and sticks with those. Knows a few guitar chords and basic songs, but doesn’t own an instrument of his own. 

NSFW under the cut

Jerks it a lot, but doesn’t often get the real thing. Has the occasional hookup, but those are few and far between and never turn into anything more than a one night stand. Usually does it in the shower or on his couch and he’s got a select few magazines he enjoys. Sometimes will use his imagination, but he’s never very creative with his fantasies.  Once you come into his life, things change for him and he wonders how he lasted so long without getting some on the regular.  

Flip isn’t sure what to think when you first ask him to bring his handcuffs to bed with him.  To him, those are tools of his job, yet he knows exactly what you want him to do with them, so he doesn’t say no.  Once he has you cuffed to the headboard, spread out for him, begging for his touch, he swears to himself that he will never not come home without his cuffs again.  Hell, he might even order another pair just to keep at home.    

Flip is a master of dirty talk, especially if he’s been drinking.  The filthiest things come out of his mouth. He loves asking you how his cock feels, praising your pussy, eliciting you to return his talk with equal, if not filthier, things of your own. He loves making you beg for him, pleading for him that you need more of him, even if you are already shaking and a complete mess.  It’s Flip’s goal to absolutely ruin you every chance he gets. Even if he may call you his little whore or slut in bed, he treats you like an absolute queen outside of the bedroom and would never actually degrade you in any way.

Is hesitant at first of role playing, especially since his partner automatically goes to a cop role for him.  Gets into it the second you utter “I’ve been bad, officer.”  “I’m going to have to take you in.” he replies, bending you over on the bed and cuffing your wrists behind your back.  From then on, he was perfectly fine being a good cop during the day and a bad cop once he got home to you.   

Flip loves eating his partner out.  He can’t get enough and will make absolute mess out of you, himself as well.  Even when you are doing the most mundane of things, such as cooking breakfast, he’ll switch off the stove, pick you up, set you on the table and dive between your legs. “You’re better than pancakes anyways.”  “Are you saying my pancakes aren’t good?”  “No, not at all, you just taste better.” 

Flip was always a fan of receiving as well, but never more than the time he was out doing a stakeout and nothing had happened for hours.  He was bored and restless and was about to give up when you showed up, slipping into his vehicle on the passenger side.  He barely got two words out before you were taking him into your mouth.  

Flip often gets stuck at the station late at night alone working on cases. While he enjoys the peace and quiet, he would much rather be at home now that he has someone to go home to.  He is  surprised when the phone rings one night past midnight, your voice on the other end.  At first he’s concerned something had happened, but you instantly turn the conversation to something else.  Flip jerks off at his desk as he listens to you on the other end of the line and from then on, any time he’s stuck working late, makes sure to call you.     

All the love to @ravenj84 for being the most wonderful person to bounce ideas off of.  

[ammar-b-shakir-blog]

Edison’s Life &  Its Inventions

An article about Edison's life and its inventions:

Admiz Melton writes: One day Edison bought all of Faraday's writings and sat down to study the height and slept there. When my eyes opened in the morning, he was sitting and reading. We were both going to a hotel about a mile away for breakfast. What Edison did read was his mind wandering. Somehow he told me, Adams, I have so much work to do, and life is so short that I have to hurry so badly that I have to go to bed. Started running Most of the things we often use in our daily life are ancient and modern inventions of science. Behind all these inventions is the hands of great scientists and inventors who worked hard and achieved a high standard. One such name was Miss Elwid Yason. Edison was probably the greatest inventor in history. He attended school for only six months, but the invention of his bulbs and phonographs changed the lives of millions of people. Edison has patented 1,000 inventions in his life. In reference to Edison's great service to humanity, Henry Ford once suggested that distant life should be called the Edison covenant. Edison praised extraordinary intelligence in these words: a verdict on the idea and a nascent decision on a sweat. He proved this belief by working all the time that he was just at meal time. Edison seemed to find everything strange. He experimented with pharmaceuticals and proposed a program for people's comfort. He was very close to the invention of the Red U. and he used nuclear energy. Predicted about Edison always strives to create things that can work under normal methods without spoiling and easily repair and improve the inventions of other

Early Life:

Edison Milne was born on February 5, 1847 in Ohio. Samuel Edison and Nanny Edison were the seventh child. Edison's grandfather was Judith Holland and mother was from Canada. The family emigrated from Amsterdam to the United States in the 8th century. Seeing the boy's curiosity and passion, his family called him Elva. Elva used to ask them questions constantly. How does the bird escape from the chicken poop? What makes the bird fly? Why does the water extinguish the fire? His school teacher couldn't even answer some of his questions. If no one was able to answer his question, he would try to get the answer from his own experience. One day, Elva learned that bubbles fly because they have gas. So he sent a boy to sidelight. Feed three sauces of safflow Elva was convinced that when the boy's stomach was full of gas he would start flying. But instead, the boy fell sick and lay on the ground, and the world began to feel him spinning.

At the age of seven, Elva moved with her parents to Ho Chi Minh, where her parents started a grain and litter business. Elva entered a public school and hurried the teacher to ask a lot of questions. The teachers used heavy leather keys to kill the children who asked them questions. One day, Elva told the district school inspector Ho Edna's son, Hoyna, is dirty and unable to study. Elva ran home and told her mother. She would go straight to the teacher and tell her in incredible words (Elva is more intelligent than the teacher's entire body in little swallows) and she dropped him off from school. Thus, the regular recognition of Elva Edison lasted only three months. His mother intended to teach him by playing the game, which was unusual at the time. His mother made education a game for him. At first he was surprised at it, but very happy later. He began to learn so fast that his mother could not teach him any more. When Elva was nine years old, her mother introduced her to a book written by Richard Babe Parker, a well-known teacher of the mid-nineteenth century. Elva Edison refused to accept her writings. She repeated each experiment to prove the author wrong. Elva had more than a hundred smells of different chemicals. She had poisoned all the smells to keep her family members away from them. Charles Bachelor, a friend of Elva's, says: "One night I returned, and I was sitting at the dockside, and in front of it was a pile of alchemy and other books, some as high as five feet." He was studying all day and night. In a few weeks, he had looked at all the books and prepared a volume based on his abstracts. He also did many experiments on farms. From the age of nine to twelve, he spent many years in the history of Hume, England, the rise and fall of the Empire, Potter's Discovery of the Senses, and Tuton's Principal of Teacher, Fla. Now it was fall. At the age of twelve, he got a job as a train boy in a grenade trunk train. He used to save newspapers, candy, tea, and peanuts in the train (which runs between Port Huron and Detroit). Was. In his spare time, he experimented with merchandise and chemicals in an empty container. He bought a press and started publishing his own newspaper (the Herald Daily). Due to its unique nature, it began to go hand in hand. It was the first newspaper to be published in a moving train.

Chemical experiments in Elva's train hit him hard. One day, a fire broke out in the foreshore pen, causing a flare in the train's car. At this point, the conductor hit the powerful Elva's ear. Received and threw her out of the box with her chemicals, printing on it and other things. The incident caused Elva to become deaf. However, Elva attributed her deafness to another incident. While she was trying to board a moving vehicle, the conductor pulled her by the ear and brought her to the platform. Edison said a few years later (I He felt something break in his head.) My deafness started from then on and it only increased.

Edison, though not completely deaf, but in the last years he could barely hear the screams. His depression could have ended with a concussion, but he refused to have surgery. Edison did not mind being deaf but thought of an easy way to get one. Edison escaped Barmouth's mouth because of his ear impairment. It happened that Edison bought a large pile of old books in doodler and he took it and left for the house at three o'clock in the night. In fact, a watchman saw him and ordered the thief to be considered. Jason couldn't hear because he was deaf. The guard fired the bullet, but the bullet passed through Edison's ear. Thus the great inventor survived the target. After the train wreck, Elva started to save the newspaper at the stations. One day at the Clemens Railway station, Elva noticed that a freight train was moving towards the station at Mulla Zam's son. Elva rescues the baby in a timely manner. Thanks to the station, Mulazam taught Elva to use a telegraph in return.

.Early Inventions:

1868, In Boston, Edison worked as a telegraphist in Boston. He completed his first invention, which he sought to sell. It was an electronic voting machine that resembled a machine used in legislative assemblies in various states. It recorded the votes of members of the legislature on a large board. Elva Edison took it to Washington and Congress A committee heard it, but the chairman of the committee told him that the machine was not in the Congress's priority: it takes about 5 minutes to attend. Your machine had to make it work. Elva Edison was very angry with this behavior and said that no I will not invent anything that is not needed. And he kept the words of his words. After that time he committed himself to these words in urgent need of the world. Elva Edison emigrated from Boston to New York in 1940. She had nothing and obtained permission to sleep in the futures of an employee of the Goldandecar Company. Elva Edison used her time to understand the stock ticker most of the time. The telegraph was the kind of machine the company used to tell brokers about the price of cocaine. A few days later the stock ticker broke and Edison surprised the manager by fixing it because everyone else had failed to fix it. At that time, the manager offered him $ 5 for a supervisor job. It was great. Edison's busy brain continued his experiments on the stock ticker. It made it so much better that the president of the Goldland Stock Telegraph Company, Jazel Marcel Lefferts, expressed his interest. The leaflets sent Edison a payday and asked what amount he would take to patent his stock. Edison made a decision that he would say $ 5 and accept up to $ 5. He hesitated and said, "Well do Jazel Fur, you offer me .....", Leffer Toss thought for a moment and then said, "Do you accept 3 dollar  ? For a moment Edison found it difficult to control himself. He grabbed the desk to keep himself upright and said gently yes! I think it will be fine.

Magic of Menlo Park

23 years ago Edison established his first workshop in Newyark, New Jersey, with money from Lefferts. It was there that he began to manufacture his own stock-ticker. In the year 2, he modified the typewriter's steel components with wood. It also corrected the intonation and ink distribution of words. Edison Improved Typewriter It was possible to write with machine speed much faster than Yes. Edison Menlo came in. That same year, he improved the telephone by adding a car bin transmitter. This was a very important step in making the telephone workable. Before this change people had to smell the telephone very loudly. Edison's inventive phonograph or record player has been named the most innovative invention in the world. In this regard, no one had ever made a practical model of phonograph, and the specimen was brand new and untouched. Edison has always called phonograph his favorite invention. The idea of ​​a phonograph came about when he was trying to find ways to automatically record telegraph messages. He wanted to record messages on a rotating plate on paper pads. That disk is like today's phonograph. He was walking around. Edison learned from his telegraph analyst how the diaphragm is being made or how the discharge is triggered in the disc that reacts to the sound waves. He made an opening or one that had a caffeine attached to the cabin. On his neck, one of the elbows was opened in which the opening had been cut. I went or mine! Six o'clock baby eats. And I have promoted a ton of wood. Edison decided that he could recapture those moles rather than give them something. Then he can make the word abusive by saying that he has two. Edison made a note and ordered his cousin's footman to take a cue from Crowley or make it. Croatia did, however, confused her, but he confused her. He was asked to make something that was neither alchemy nor evil, but it was mica goodness. On the contrary, Edison did not destroy anything that could be completely mica-good. C could not imagine who used Edison to make this device but he took it and built it. When the C-C, the cylinder-shaped machine comes with Z. Edison's wings or you ask what it is. Edison unintentionally said, "Oh, this machine will smell. He wrapped the fort's foil on the cylinder's neck! The baby at six o'clock eats. He smelled this alphabet in the machine's silence. The machine gave Edison's words every chance. The croc's face turned white with movement. Edison, however, remains a diamond.

Electrical light (BULB):

Light bulb (bulb) Didn't I like the style of the new photo shot? Many two-headed people worked on this concept for years. The Russian-born Michael Najnier Paula Jiblo was persuaded by Pir's family to be archery at the time, but Edison wanted younger boys and girls who could be used at home and at home. Coin - in fact, it was the gas of the heart that was the main source of energy. In 1879 AD, Edison brought out a successful soliloquy of LED light. He did just that for the second time to observe all the flame minutes, which could illuminate the roaring light. The employee was sent to Azzone and another to the jungles of Japan. He had tried about three thousand things for a minute. On 19 October 1879 , after several attempts, Car Edison's fibers were finally able to be applied to the filament bulb. The bulb gave great light. By the morning of October 7, the precious bulb was burning. Finally on October 7, at 2:30 pm, Edison decided to raise two latches, which caused the bulb to burn. On the 5th of September Edison's lightning flashed a new invention of light. Edison became known all over the world as the magic of Menlo Park. Edison won the patent for electric light in January. Edison did more than 3 experiments for the invention of the bulb. In 9 AD, Edison moved to New Jersey, the large and modern Libya rotary of the West and Najj. He spent most of his time working on his new inventions. He organized many companies to develop his inventions. By the end of the decade, Edison began producing animated films and films. He made a comedy based on the inventions of George Eastman and others. In 2 AD Edison combined phonographs and cameras to create spoken pictures. The machine showed some flaws and Edison put it aside. Other people later fixed the flaws. At first people thought of animated films as a toy, but Edison saw them with the hope that it would be through education. He predicted that one day it would change other ways of teaching. Some of his later inventions and distortions include storage irons Tissimeters, cement mixers, duct phones and photocopying machines. From his first patented invention (Golden Artificial Plant to Artificial Rubber) to Edison's society Participation continued at the same pace. He died in the West and Najj on 18 October 1931 at the age of 84.

Edison’s Friends:

Edison had no special close friends. He often liked to be with Henry Ford, Harvey Fairestone and John Barrows. But he worked hard for hours, not having much time for friends. Used to be Throughout Edison's life, his work has always been a joy and a friend to him. Edison was a musician. Despite being deaf, he claimed he could hear the speaker of the phonograph with his skull. Edison was not a religious man but he believed in great intelligence. One time he told his friend that although he is known as a great inventor in the world, he cannot create even the simplest of life. Edison's most important work for the world was not only to invent electric light, but also to map the world's first power plant to reach millions of people. Edison received so many awards for his achievements that he had to say that I needed a mole to produce them. In 1956, Edison's laboratory was declared a national heritage. In 1959, her house was also declared a national heritage. The fact is that not only in life but also after death, the honor and fame that came to the part of Edison, which is very fortunate.

[typingoverworld]

McGregor

Today, she was going to see the McGregor.  Alice McGregor had not been home to see her father since her brother’s death seven years before.  Her fingers flexed in rhythm with the churning of her stomach.  She could feel the sweat forming and furrowed her forehead to keep the drops from falling into her eyes.  Forcing her fingers to grip the steering wheel to stop their movement, Alice settled back into the tan leather seat of her brand new Cadillac Crossover and focused on the highway again.

Her father would not approve of a car known for its luxury rather than its usefulness.  She had known since she was a small child that her wants far exceeded what her father believed necessary.  While her childhood friends received presents of dress-up Barbies and Kens, she was given books to read.  For the McGregor, fun was impossible without a sense of accomplishment to go with it.  Alice realized she was gripping the steering wheel so hard that her left-hand ring finger had gone numb.  Her engagement ring was a little too tight for her finger, but the jewelry was worth enough that she would rather have it tight than worry about losing it.

A few moments later, Alice exited the highway and pulled over into the parking lot of a neighborhood gas station.  With a sigh, she wiggled the ring off of her finger and placed it in the zippered pouch of her clutch purse.  She had not told her father about Montgomery yet.  The McGregor would not approve of an arranged marriage—arranged by the affianced but arranged none the less.  There was no love in her engagement—only convenience and common interest.  She wanted to be a politician’s wife, and Montgomery wanted a dignified companion at his side for the pictures.

Alice pulled back onto the road.  Her finger still felt the ring pressed against it—like the phantom sensation of a lost limb.  She felt wrong and lonely not wearing it, but she knew it would be best to speak with her father about Montgomery before revealing her engagement.  Her father was the old fashioned kind of man who would expect to be asked for her hand in marriage.  Montgomery would be coming down in a few days to do just that; she did not want to start out her married life with her father condemning her husband.

Alice made the final turn in her journey from Cambridge to Boston.  She could see the brick exterior of McGregor’s Bar and Grille down the street on the right side.  Lunchtime had called enough patrons to force her to park a good block away from the entrance.  She had dressed rather plainly for this meeting in a pair of blue jeans and a soft, white button-up blouse.  Alice could imagine her father’s reaction if she had shown up in one of the sophisticated outfits Montgomery had bought for her.  The McGregor was never a man who appreciated pomp.

Stepping out of the car and onto the concrete of the road, Alice adjusted her ponytail and shut the door.  Her movements quickly fell into a languid rhythm; she wanted to stretch out these moments.  Car noises gradually blended into the sound of classic rock as she got closer to the double oak doors of the bar.  Closer to her father.

Her white tennis shoes started stepping in time to the up-tempo beat, and she paused for a moment in front of the doors to take a deep, calming breath.  She had always thought the colored glass panes a bit out of place on the doors of the bar, but she admired the bright blues and greens of their diamond shapes anyway.  Exhaling, Alice placed her left hand upon the brass handle and pulled it open, feeling the cool, scaled design press against her sweating hands.

She stepped into the dim interior, and the song’s finale hit her ears with force.  Her shoes sank into the plush red rug marking the entryway, and Alice took a moment to study McGregor’s.  She had expected some grand changes to have taken place, but almost nothing was different.  She recognized some of the regulars—they had a few more wrinkles but were otherwise unaltered.  There were new people scattered throughout, but they could just be passing through.

The same landscapes of the Irish countryside hung on the walls in the same places.  The wall sconces still cast barely enough light to see.  Her family portrait stood as before on the top shelf of the bar—her younger self seated in front of her parents.  As she moved further into the interior, Alice could see that some things were distinctly modified.  The old wooden chairs had been replaced with a padded, newer version and the less reputable tables were supplanted by a more modern style.  The fact that all the tables were not matched made the alterations less distinct than they would have been if she had come in to the find everything replaced.  The McGregor saw no reason to fix something that was not broken so the furniture had never been perfectly coordinated.

* * *

At 8pm on Thursday night, Alice stepped out of the slightly orange cab onto the sidewalk in front of McGregor’s Bar and Grille.  Her black leather heels clicked against the sidewalk as she made her way to the entrance.  She pulled the large door open and her heel’s next landing settled on the plush red rug in the entryway.  

Alice let the door slip closed behind her and walked towards the office door in the back of the crowded bar.  Her heels clicked sharply on the black floor tiles, and the rapid beat drew the eyes of the mostly male crowd.  She knew what they would see: a slightly plump young woman in her mid-to-late twenties.  Blond hair laced with light brown highlights, eyes a little too big for her face, a sharp nose, and a mouth plump enough to match her figure.  Her black business suit with its pink silk undershirt was aimed at a display of feminine power.

She did not feel powerful.  Alice forced her shoulders back and her head high, ignoring the impulse of her body to curl in upon itself.  She had to be strong or risk being pitied.  When she passed the bartender, Alice nodded in lieu of a hello, never slowing her pace.  It took less than fifteen seconds to cross the expanse of the bar and lock the office door behind her—and three minutes before her body stopped shaking.

She settled into the guest chair in front of the desk, carefully avoiding the sight of her father’s empty chair on the other side.  It all belonged to her now.  She was the only one left.  Alice pulled her feet up to rest on the front of the chair and lowered her head upon her knees.  

She had only been out of the hospital for two days.  Her doctor had released her earlier than he thought appropriate because she had told him she would walk out whether or not he gave her permission.  Alice had never been particularly close to her family, but she refused to miss out on their final event.

Gone.  All gone.  And I am all that’s left.

Her eyes began to burn within their sockets, and she struggled to release the breath she couldn’t quite finish drawing in.  Focusing on her breathing, Alice regained a more natural composure and sat up.  This control lasted only a few more moments before she swung her feet onto the desk, pushed her butt towards the edge of the seat and rested her head against the chair back.

This slightly uncomfortable upholstered wooden chair was hers—not the large brown executive chair on the other side of the desk.  She wanted to give it back.  She wanted to tell her father she wasn’t ready for this.  She wanted to hug her mother and listen to the words “it’s all right” being whispered into her ear.  But she could not.  Her parents had been settled into their graves at 2pm yesterday, and Alice would never hear anything again.  The accident which had claimed the lives of her parents had claimed her hearing.

She wondered if it was some kind of punishment.  Sunday was the first time she had seen her parents in seven years.  If she had never come up to see them, they would not have driven to the Fourth of July fireworks display on the edge of town.  If the eight year old boy had been watched more carefully by his parents, he would probably still be alive too.  Lit fireworks placed on the trunk of her parent’s car and nowhere for the little boy to run.

Alice assumed she should feel guilty for their deaths—that seemed to be what every storyline said—but the sharpest prick to her heart was the loss of her life.  She had a responsibility to McGregor’s now.  The red brick one-story bar had stood in downtown Boston for 83 years now, and her life in Cambridge had barely seen eight.

Montgomery would be here tomorrow.  Alice’s chest contracted painfully.  She had yet to tell him she was ripping their life apart.  The doctors had notified him of the accident on Sunday before they realized the full extent of her injuries.  She had only communicated with him through text since she awoke in the hospital bed.  She had never liked talking on the phone and therefore believed her lack of verbal communication had not caused an alarm.  

She could not stop imagining the varied expressions of disgust which would cross his face when he realized she was deaf.  Or the relief when she informed him she would be staying in Boston to run the family business.  He would not have to stay engaged to someone with such a noticeable handicap.  And Alice, she would stay here alone with only the memory of his voice to comfort her.

To her right, the office door began to shake, jolting Alice out of her reverie.  She had been speculating for over an hour.  The clock on the wall beside the door read 9:12 when the solid oak panel swung into the room to rest against the arm of her chair.  The bartender, Ted, stepped inside her sanctuary.  She watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he remembered her injury.  His tan cheeks took on a slightly pink tinge as he stepped to the desk.  Ted quickly found a pen and a pad of paper.  She watched his long tanned fingers as they alternated between writing rapidly and stretching out the cramps caused by the furious motion.

She had met him for the first time at her parent’s funeral yesterday, but Dr. Forrester had told her that Ted came by to see her when she was still unconscious.  She knew he had come to see her parents and taken the sight of her as a consolation prize, but it still cast an almost comical angelic light on such a rugged man.  Alice spent a few amused seconds searching for his hidden halo before she was interrupted by the writing pad he extended to her.

Glancing down at the contents, Alice was taken aback to see that only one line of text was visible—the rest had been extensively crossed out.  It read only:  “What can I do for you?”  She had assumed he was coming in with a business related question.  

Ted closed the office door and knelt down beside the chair, placing his hand on top of her lower arm.  Alice could feel the heat transferring from his body to hers.  It made her comfortable in such a way that she involuntarily closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.  Doctors and corpses had cold hands.  It was good to feel something which radiated human warmth.

She expected him to pull away or attempt to communicate with her again, but he simply stayed there, reassuring her with his presence.  Alice knew she should feel a little embarrassed about taking comfort from a virtual stranger, but she was too relaxed right now to care.  Tomorrow seemed further off than it had a right to be.  She had never been one to put off hard things so the idea of waiting another day to end her relationship with Montgomery made her foot tap impatiently.

When Ted suddenly released her and moved away, Alice opened her eyes and sat up.  She turned towards him and opened her mouth to speak before she remembered that she no longer had a way to ascertain that she said the right thing or used the right tone of voice.  Instead of risking the possibility of making a fool of herself, she grabbed the closest pen off of the desk and scribbled a quick note:  “thank you.”

She saw him mouth a “you’re welcome” before he reached for the pad to write it down.  She waved him off and wrote, “It’s time for us to get to work.  ‘A business has to have love, and loves takes time, patience, and effort.’”

Ted grinned when he read her quote.  It had been her father’s favorite saying.  Ian McGregor had loved McGregor’s with time, patience, and effort.  It would be insulting to her family name to put any less love into the bar than her father had given.  Alice could see her father sitting across from her over twenty years ago when she first remembered him telling her his philosophy.  She knew he had done the same with every new employee.  Although she had only been five years old at the time, McGregor’s saying had struck a chord within her.

It is too late to show my father I am loyal to our family tradition, but I will show anyone else who cared enough to doubt it.

The motion of the door swinging open again startled her out of her reverie.  She expected one of the waitresses, but instead saw Montgomery.  His lean six foot two frame filled up the narrow doorway as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

I’m not ready for this.  I thought I was, but I’m not.

Montgomery’s almost girlishly plump lips were moving rapidly and the concerned expression on his face gradually settled into discomfort when her expression did not change and she remained seated.  She could imagine the thoughts running through his head right now and wanted to reassure him, but she felt paralyzed.  How could she tell him something so monumentally life changing?  How could she show him she did not expect him to maintain a long distance relationship with a deaf woman?  How could she deal with the pain of losing a man who had been the knife by which she had carved out her life for the past few years?

She did not have to.  Before Montgomery’s lips had even stopped moving, Ted laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder and slowly mouthed the words she was unable to say.  Alice could not hear what was being said, but she could guess.  She wished she did not have to watch the blood draining from Montgomery’s face or see the condemnation in his eyes.  As she had expected, Montgomery made a quick exit. No need to provide a goodbye.

Alice clutched at her chest and clenched her eyes shut.  When she opened them, she saw Ted’s eyes transition from wide and round to narrow, and she barely had time to register his intent before he sped out of the door.  Jumping out of her seat, Alice chased him down.  She had known for years that her impending marriage was one of convenience rather than love.  Its loss was not worth the anger Ted was displaying.

Alice managed to grab his arm right before he reached the double doors marking McGregor’s entrance.  When he turned around to look at her, she simply shook her head slowly.  Montgomery always traveled with his own car so he would be long gone anyway.  It was a wasted effort to think he might be dissuaded from his opinion.  Her time, patience, and effort would go into loving this bar.  It would take the place of the important things she had lost—never thinking they were something she would lose so soon.

Alice locked her arm around Ted’s and escorted him back to the office.  They had work to do.

Alysha @ TypingOverWorld 

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #4, part 2

In the first half of this issue, we got Carol’s new secret origin, which reduced all of her previously hard-earned victories and achievements to ~birthright~ and ~Kree blood~ and ~destiny~.

The second half gives us the story of how Marie met Joe and how Carol came to be, which quickly turns into a litany of excuses for Marie and Joe’s abject failures as parents and human beings.

Which means -- sorry, guys -- we’re gonna have to talk about the abuse stuff again.

Marie says she’ll explain everything, but first they need to “batten down the hatches” and get ready for the next attack. Carol and JJ turn the obnoxiousness up to eleven.

Carol: I’ll batten— JJ: Start chattin’!!!

They then proceed to sit around and do nothing to secure their defences for the rest of the issue.

Marie explains that she was sent on a mission to Earth. Boston wasn’t her target, but she was blown off course and crash-landed in the harbour. Joe spotted her thrashing in the water and rescued her.

“From then on, my training kicked in. ‘First principle of assimilation on a new planet: Never present with a power.’”

This is hilarious, because on the very next page we see Marie repeatedly using her powers in crowded public spaces by accident.

We never find out what Marie’s mission on Earth was. Since she never gets any further than Boston, the impression I get is that she flew in there all gung-ho, only to lock eyes with a cute boy and immediately forget about everything else.

While she keeps stalling with her superiors, reporting that she’s cultivated a romance with a human as a ‘cover’ (for what?!), Marie grows ever closer to Joe. He discovers that she’s an alien because, despite being the youngest, smartest, strongest, bestest, greatestest Imperial Guard captain in the history of the Kree Empire, she can’t get a handle on basic undercover principles like not flying in public.

Eventually they get married.

“It was the happiest day of my life… But it was also the beginning of a lifelong lie. Because Joe married the wrong woman. Mari-Ell had come to Earth looking for a war. Marie had stayed on Earth looking for a life, love, a family. All the things no Kree ever gets to know… or even know they want. That was my choice. When Captain Mari-Ell became Mrs Joseph Danvers, I became the person I was meant to be… just not the person your father had fallen in love with. Those letters that broke your heart, Carol? They were written to another woman, the one he was afraid of losing. Mari-Ell. Someone I no longer am, someone I no longer want to be.”

hOKAY LET’S GET INTO THIS.

Joe didn’t fall in “love” with anyone. He fell in lust with a fantasy of a sexy mystery girl from the ocean who trailed after him like a lost puppy and hung on his every word, of an illicit affair with an alien soldier babe who would fly just for him. 

Then they got married and had a baby and Marie dedicated herself to building a family with him as he’d begged her to do, and Joe found himself faced with something he hadn’t bargained for — a three-dimensional person with thoughts and desires that didn’t revolve entirely around him.

That’s why he resented Marie and Carol both — for taking his sex fantasy girlfriend away from him.

Granted, this is not the spin that Stohl puts on it. She expects us to feel sorry for him.

“Your poor father. I tried to be the woman he fell in love with, but…”

Marie: …you needed me. And the woman you needed wasn’t a warrior from a distant world. It was your mother. … Helping you fit into this place? Making you feel human? That was my fight.

What in the EVEN.

Let us set aside for the time being the sheer outrageousness of the idea that Marie could not simultaneously be two things, that she was faced with a strict binary choice between being a badass alien protector and a domestic nurturer.

At no point in her interactions with Joe has Marie ever behaved as Captain Mari-Ell, Kree warrior who has “come to Earth looking for a war”. She’s your classic naive alien fish-out-of-water. He takes her bowling and she accidentally hurls the ball so hard that she shatters the pins; Joe stares and Marie utters an embarrassed “Oops”. He takes her to a baseball game and she gets so into it that she levitates in order to catch the ball.

All the while she is shown to be actively avoiding her mission and lying to her commanding officers about her movements on Earth. This is not a woman who’s in any hurry to find a war. All she wants to do is play house.

Nor have any of her interactions with Carol shown her to be a particularly attentive mother. She allows her husband to bully, belittle and traumatise their children. When a distressed young Carol tries to protect her brothers from their father’s fists, Marie first pulls her back sternly (“You’ll just make it worse… Now’s not the time”). And then, when Carol demands that Joe stop, scolds and punishes her (grabbing her by the arm: “That’s it, young lady— You’re going home”).

All of this is understandable, if still traumatising for Carol, if we consider Marie to be a victim of abuse herself. But that’s never explicitly tackled, and it’s the only flashback we get that shows Marie directly interacting with the younger Carol, which leaves us with a woman who let her daughter grow up feeling afraid, rejected, silenced, disempowered and undervalued.

Marie in the present day is little better. She has next to no relationship with Carol. She actively avoids being honest about her and Carol’s origins, even after Carol gains her Kree powers, even during the various traumas of Carol’s depowering and multiple bouts of amnesia, even when she knows that her silence is endangering her children’s lives. She is an awful parent and this is never acknowledged.

We cut to a flashback to the Danvers family in hospital with the newborn Carol. Marie says that she’ll be stronger than any human; infant Carol kindly demonstrates this by crushing Joe’s finger. Marie says she wants to call the baby Car-Ell — Carol — because on Hala it means “champion”

Joe summarily declares that, as Marie and Carol’s owner protector, it’s now his job to keep them safe and make decisions for them, so he’d better not see them acting independently or defending themselves, y’hear?

The misogyny is enough to make Marie swoon with adoration.

Joe: Champ, huh? Guess ya both are. But now the fighting’ days are over. For both a you. Marie: Joe… Joe: I’m gonna protect ya now. She’s my daughter, Marie. I’m not gonna let them touch her. I’m not gonna let anything happen to her. That’s on me. Marie [narration]: He had no idea what he was saying— and it made me love him even more.

Marie knows that to keep Carol truly safe, she needs to go off the grid, as it were — turn off the beacon that enables her Kree commanders to track her.

Yeah, and she’s just realising that now. Not when she accepted Joe’s proposal and committed to staying on Earth with him and becoming a mother to his sons. Not when she sealed that commitment by marrying him. Not at any point during her pregnancy. It’s only now as she looks down at her newborn Kree-human hybrid baby that she has realised ‘oh shit, there might be some consequences for this’.

And what the frig do her commanding officers think she’s been doing for the last nine months? She certainly hasn’t been carrying out whatever the hell her mission actually was. Has she just been telling them more and more elaborate lies, while taking increasingly outrageous steps to hide her growing belly?

But sure, turn the tracker off, it’s not like they could possibly track you to the location of your last known signal. Not when you’ve cunningly hidden your tracks by moving to the other side of the bay. They’ll be totally bamboozled!

“We gave you as regular a childhood as we could. We taught you to love, not to fight… to use your heart, not your fists. All the things nobody had ever taught me.”

Again, there is absolutely no evidence of this in the preceding eighty-odd pages of comic. This whole thing started because Carol is so scarred by her upbringing that she’s having full-blown post-traumatic flashbacks in her daily life.

It was hard for Joe, Marie tells us. Paranoid about being found and having his family ripped apart by the Kree, he began to see threats everywhere.

So you see, it’s not his fault he was an abuser! His wife refused to centre her entire existence around him! He was scared that her alien friends would come and emasculate him! It all drove him to drink! When you think about it, it’s really Marie’s fault that he beat his kids!

Joe convinces Marie that crushing Carol’s dreams and belittling her ambitions is for her own good, and Marie believes him because his alcohol-fuelled misogyny is so convincing.

(But she hates herself for doing it, so it’s okay that she made her daughter feel alienated and abandoned for years.)

Joe: You have to talk to her. She’s sayin’ all this garbage ‘bout bein’ an astronaut again. Marie: Carol’s going to be whatever she wants, Joe. Telling her not to do something isn’t going to change her mind. She’s Kree. Joe: Only half, thank gawd. Don’t think I could handle all this one small step for womankind crap an’ the flying stuff, too.

Jump forward to Carol at eighteen. Despite her parents’ lack of support and rejection of her chosen career, Carol has made it into her dream college course and is determined to one day work for NASA. But she can’t cover tuition on her own. She asks Joe for help and gets a crushing and unequivocal no. Marie is nowhere to be seen. In the present, Carol recalls, “I remember it was the night I needed you most, Ma. I had no one.”

But! You guys! The reason Marie wasn’t there is that she was off hocking her wedding ring so she could pay Carol’s tuition herself, which totally makes up for eighteen years of neglecting Carol and making her feel like less. And the reason Marie never told Carol any of this before now is that by the time she got back from the pawn shop, Carol had already packed up and left to join the military and “[Marie] had lost [her]”, because we are also expected to believe that the fifteen to twenty years that followed this offered not a single opportunity for Marie to reach out and make amends.

So really what I’m saying is, it’s Carol’s fault here for impulsively running off and not waiting around for her mother to finally bother supporting her.

For some reason Carol is touched by all this and the pair embrace, and they’re so caught up in their own moment that they don’t even notice Clorox sneak up on them and take JJ hostage.

[asupernaturalgirl]

Pizza and Kidnapping

Request: Hey, I love your imagines! Do you write for criminal minds? If so could you do a Hotch x Reader where she's Jack's Babysitter and they both have feelings for eachother but he doesnt realise until she gets kidnapped by an unsub and saves her and there's declarations of love etc please? Thank you! X

A/N: Hello everyone! Something a little different for you! I hope you like it and all of the Hotch feels!

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of injuries, angst, wine?

...

    “Jack, you’ve got to get to bed tonight,” You say, picking up the quickly growing boy who refused to go to bed. “I promise I will wake you when your dad arrives home.”

    “Please, I want to stay up and watch TV with you,” You look at him with doubtful eyes and boop is nose.

    “I wish you could buddy,” You give him a frown. “You’ve got school tomorrow though and your dad would not be happy with me if I allowed you to stay up that late.”

    He nods slowly and you take him up the stairs of the large house. You enter the young child’s bedroom and set him down on his own bed. “Goodnight, Jack,” You say, brushing back his hair a bit. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

    Quietly, you walk down the stairs and sit on the couch, picking up a book on the coffee table and beginning it. Around an hour later, you hear a car door shut and Aaron walks in a few moments later.

    “Hey, Y/N,” He says, setting his briefcase down by the door. His eyes are dark and tired. “How did everything go?”

    “Great,” You say, smiling and putting the book back as you stand up. “He put up a bit of fight going to bed. I reckon he was excited to see you after three days of being gone. A bit sick of me, I suppose.”

    Aaron shot you a look and shook his head slightly. “I think it was probably the other way around. He doesn’t want you to leave, I’m sure,” He smiles a little. “He love you - we both do.”

    You smile slightly. “Well, I better get home. I’ve got a cat waiting for me.”

    “Hold on,” He protests, holding up his hand. “I haven’t eaten anything other than donuts and coffee for the past few days. I was thinking about ordering some pizza if you’d like to stay.”

    Your heart flutters in your chest. As hopeful as you were, this sounded like a semi-date to you. You didn’t want to get your hopes up though, Aaron Hotchner was much too good for you. “Isn’t it a little too late for pizza?”

    He smiles a little and shakes his head. “We are adults, aren’t we? Aren’t we allowed to enjoy an evening with pizza.”

    You nod your head and chuckle slightly. “I’ll have to agree with you on that one.”

    “C’mon,” He takes off his tie and motions for you to follow him to the kitchen. “Order it on the computer and I’ll bring out some wine.”

    You sat on the stool and turned on the laptop, typing in the website of your favorite pizza place and look at the specials. A few moments later, Aaron comes out of the garage with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You submit the order and take the glass of red wine he pours of you. “Thank you.”

    He nods and takes a seat next to you as you both take a sip. It was better wine than you could afford in a while. “Where did you go for this last case?”

    “Boston,” He muttered, taking a large sip of the wine. You could tell how stressed and upset he was.     “It was a bad one?” You questioned, hoping you weren’t taking things too far by asking him these questions.

    “It’s always hard when they’re preying on helpless people. Girls coming home drunk from bars were the victims most of the time.” He says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Be careful out there, Y/N. Always look out.”

    “I know,” You say quietly, looking down. “You told me before.”

    Aaron always told you to be careful, not to do anything reckless. He said he had seen to much of how those mistakes can bite you in the butt. You appreciated it, but couldn’t help but wonder if he warned you for another reason.

    As you sit in silence for a few moments, the doorbell rings and you walk to get the pizza. Aaron hands him the money and you set the box on the coffee table in the living room. “I’ve been waiting to watch some TV since three days ago.” He says, sitting on the couch and grabbing a slice, turning it one.

    “Sounds good to me,” You say, sitting next to him and taking a slice of your own. You both decide on The Tonight Show because it was the only thing on at the moment. After finishing the episode, I look at the clock on the wall and realize it’s 1 in the morning. “Jesus christ.”

    You stand up and Aaron does too. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.”

    “It’s fine,” You shake your head and grab your bag from the door. “I’ve just got to get home.”

    He nods and walks to the door, opening it for you. “Aaron,” You say as you stand on the front porch. “Get some sleep.”

    He nods, understanding that you could tell how tired he was. He smiles at you. “Be careful.”

    “I’ll see you at nine tomorrow,” You say as you make your way to your car in the driveway.

…

    It is freezing the next morning as you bundle up in your large jacket and run out to your hair, steam rising from your mouth. You car blinks its lights as you unlock it. You had to be at Aaron and Jack’s house in ten minutes. Because you stayed out so late the night before, it was hard to pull yourself out of bed this morning, but Aaron had to go to work like a regular person, even though he was just gone for three days, which means you have to go to work.

    You open your car door and throw your heavy bag in the passenger seat, putting the key into the ignition. Just as you’re about to turn the key, there’s a chilling voice behind you, sending even more chill bumps up your cold body.

    “Turn the key and drive and don’t scream,” A man’s voice says who you don’t recognize. You curse yourself as you remember the stupid mistake of forgetting to even lock your car. All your limbs feel as though they’re ice and can’t move. You remember the mace spray Aaron had given you in your glove compartment, but it was too far away. You could feel the barrel of the gun against the back of your head.

    “Please don’t hurt me,” You beg, holding your hands up.

    “Drive, b****,” He screams in your ear. This makes you jump into action and you turn the key quickly, a sob coming from your mouth. Thoughts off all those women Aaron and his team had seen, unable to save burned in your mind. ‘It could happen to anyone,’ his voice burned in your mind, warning you to be careful. ‘Always look in the back of your car.’

    You drive down the street, the barrel of the gun still on your head. He instructs you to pull over in a heavily wooded area. Normally, this is something you would protest, but the thought of the bullet going through your head made you act as he said.

    “Get out and put your hands up,” He whispers, and you do as he says. As you get out of the car, you quickly through your hands up. He follows, the gun that wasn’t on your head anymore, you still knew was there, pointing at you. “Open the trunk and get in.”

    Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you open the trunk and walk over, signing your death certificate by getting in. Everything you were doing was so wrong, but you were so scared of what could happen if you didn’t do as he said. “Please find me, Aaron,” You whisper as the trunk closes loudly, leaving you in complete darkness.

…

    Aaron Hotchner wrings his hands nervously as he looks out the window again, waiting for your car to pull up. You were never late, but he had to get to work. He couldn’t help but be a little angry that you could be so irresponsible as not to show up and not text him before. Jack runs around the house, bookbag on. Sighing, Aaron picks up his phone and calls his sister-in-law, Jessica.

    “Hey, Jessica,” He says as she answers. “I hope your not busy. Is there anyway you could get here and watch Jack for me. Y/N didn’t show up.”

    Jessica was always willing to help and was at the house in a matter of minutes, Jack throwing his arms around her. “Hey, Jacky,” She smiles, giving him eskimo kisses. “There’s a note on the porch, Aaron.”

    Aaron gets ready to leave and grabs his briefcase. “Thanks, it’s probably a pizza menu,” He walks out the front door and grabs the envelope. Written on the front in messy writing, it says ‘Aaron Hotchner.’ He opens it quickly and his heart stops immediately. A picture of your house and the next is an image of your unconscious body in a trunk.

    His heart clenches in his chest, making him feel dizzy. As quickly as he can, he shouts in the house that there’s an emergency and he had to be at work quickly. His hands are shaky as he turns the key in the ignition and makes his way to the FBI Headquarters.

    As soon as he’s on the BAU floor, he shouts to meet in the meeting room and is there himself in a matter of seconds, writing down anything he can about Y/N. Rossi, Emily, Derek, Spencer, and JJ are in the room within the next few minutes and sit down. “Jack’s baby sitter was kidnapped. I got this this morning,” He throws down the envelope and the process starts, brainstorming who could have taken you.

…

    Derek and Aaron take one SUV, speeding down the road as Aaron puts out the profile for the kidnapper. “We’re looking for a middle-aged, white male. He has a vengeance on me, for taking his brother. The address we are going to is 301 Buck Drive.”

    They knew they had him. A man named David Myers had taken you, and Hotch couldn’t help but feel responsible. He could have protected you, could have warned you that this might happen. They’re driving down a long, dirt driveway and as soon as Derek pulled the car into park in front of the run down house, Hotch was out, ready to do anything he could to save you.

    “Break down the door, Derek,” Aaron Hotchner instructed and of course, Derek did as he said. Pieces of wood went flying as Derek kicked the door in, screaming “FBI!”

    The man who Aaron had described to police emerged from a room in the house, arm around your neck as he put a gun to your head. “I’ll kill her!”

    Aaron’s heart wrenches in his chest as he looks at your pale body. Three days had gone by and you had obviously faced a lot of stress. Bruises lined your arms and your eyes were red from crying. You were crying now, your eyes set on Aaron as he looked at you. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” You yell out, trying to reason with everyone. “It’s fine. Nobody has to get hurt.”

    “Shut up, b****,” He screams out and you let out a sob, your legs going weak as you squeeze your eyes shut.

    Aaron holds his gun up, aimed straight at David’s head, his jaw set and angry. “Let her go, now.” He says firmly, his voice low.

    The man smiles. “You’re stuck, Hotchner. You’re not getting out of this.”

    As he says this, you raise your eyebrows, trying to get his attention. He looks at you and you try to tell him with your eyes that you have a plan. He catches on and you get ready, biting David’s arm as hard as you possibly could. Blood reaches your mouth and you rip, spitting out the blood and skin you had pulled off. Nothing could have made you feel any worse than you did then as you vomited on the floor.

    “Get on the ground! Get on the f***ing ground,” Derek screams as he tackles David to the floor, sitting on top of him and wrenching his arms around so that he can put him in cuffs. Sirens can be heard outside the house and police officers surround the house, running in to help with the arrest. As they pull him out roughly, Aaron runs to you, bringing you in for a hug.

    “Are you alright,” He questions as he looks over you for any serious injuries. As he sees you sobbing, he brings you in for a hug. EMTs come in and request to look over her. As much as Aaron would like to sit here with you, he backs up a bit, but still stays for comfort. They soon load her into the ambulance and Aaron follows in behind as they shut the doors.

    “Y/N,” He says as he grabs your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

    “It’s okay,” You say hoarsely, tears in your eyes. “I’m fine, Aaron. I’m fine.”

    Aaron pauses for a moment before small tears flood his own eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I love you.”

    As he says this, you pull him down and kiss him softly on the lips, pulling back and stroking the side of his face. “I love you too, Aaron. I’m okay.”

[feelsgood-anon]

Eros - Bar AU [Season 2] Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU.  IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS.  EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!  

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

[Season 1]

[Season 2] | Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5p1 | Ch. 5p2 | Ch. 6 | Ch.7

“Sugar, this is your sixth glass, are you sure you don't want to talk about things?” Zen asked, worry riddled across his expression. It wasn’t much the amount that the other man was drinking but the rate of consumption. It had scarce been an hour and Sugar was well into finishing an entire bottle of wine by himself.

Sugar waved his hand in dismissal, “There is nothing to talk about. Simply put, Clicks is once again covering for his sorry excuse for a girlfriend. Now if you will please pour me another drink we can continue on with the night.”

Zen sighed as he did what he was asked, begrudgingly handing his friend the wine. He knew better than to badger him but it pained him to see Sugar in such an agitated mood. He couldn’t blame the other for being in this state: the second day of being in the hospital, Clicks refused to speak of the incident as he told Jumin he would and shortly after was moved from the ICU which allowed Goldie to see him freely. Sugar got no answers from Clicks and let the woman dictate the incident all over again with little resistance.

“Is he at least doing better? I know he was in a lot of pain initially. Wasn’t he being sent home soon?” Zen dared to ask, hoping that talking about Click’s condition would be a better way to approach things.” Sugar sighed, a glossy haze in his eyes, “Mmm, yes. His pain is gone and he was discharged last night. I’m glad as he was getting very anxious being in the hospital for more than a week.” His gaze focused on the glass, running his fingers along the rim, “If he weren’t so damn stubborn, none of this would have happened.”

Jingle~

“Clicks!”

They both looked towards the door, Sugar frowning deeply, “Clicks, what the hell are you doing here? You should be at home resting.” Clicks smiled and said hello to those that greeted him, slowly making his way farther into the bar with his walking aid, “I wanted to speak with you, but you weren’t answering your phone. I figured you’d be down here.”

Zen made his way around the bartop to quickly make his way to Clicks’ side, “Hey! Welcome back! Let me help you to your seat.”

“Thank you, Zen. It may take some getting used to walking around here. At least I sit in the same spot every night, yes?” He chuckled as he allowed Zen to lead him, “But I’m sure I will have no trouble knowing the layout of this place. You’d think I could make it just fine, seeing as I’m here rather often.”

Sugar clenched his jaw when Clicks sat next to him, “It is far too early for you to be up and about, and you certainly shouldn’t be drinking. I am calling a driver immediately to-”

“Clicks!” Sunny cried out from behind them, running to give him a big hug, “I’m so glad you are okay! Everyone was so worried!”

He laughed softly, placing his arms on top of hers that had wrapped around him, “That’s very kind of you to have concerns for me, but rest easy knowing that I am doing much better. Everything should be normal in no time.”

“Except for the fact that you can’t see.” Sugar hissed, “I wouldn’t exactly call that normal.”

Clicks sighed as he hesitantly reached to put his hand on Sugar’s shoulder, “Please, let’s have a conversation. The pool tables look empty, come talk to me.”

Even though Sugar scoffed at the request, he stood up and grabbed Clicks’ arm to drag him to the back. Sunny frowned as they left, walking around the back of the bar top, “I’m glad he’s out of the hospital, but it’s still sad that all of that happened to him.” She wrapped her arms around her torso, “I’m still worried since Sugar has been acting the way he has.”

“Things are a bit on edge, aren’t they?” Zen said as he walked over to her, “I believe that Sugar will get things under control, he’s good for that at least.” He reached his hand over to rustle the top of her head, “Have some faith!”

Cannon had crept around them, standing very close to Sunny, “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about them. They are both being stupid right now so let them fight it out. If it’s not one thing, it’s the other.” He tried to put a hand on her arm in a form of comfort but she brushed him off, “They aren’t being stupid, it was an unfortunate event! Clicks could have ended up worse!” She stepped away from him to get closer to Zen, “That’s really insensitive of you to say, Cannon!” “He didn’t mean it like that, Sunny. It’s really nice that you are worried about them. I’m sure they appreciate you thinking about them.” Zen outstretched his arm to allow her to lean into him if she wished, “Clicks is strong and will get through this!”

Sunny sighed and put her arm around Zen’s waist to hug his now open side, “I know, thanks Zen. I just can’t help it, I want to help so badly!”

Cannon frowned as she took Zen’s comfort over his, “I’m so sorry that I don’t baby people. That’s your job. If they grew a pair, they wouldn’t be in this situation!” He snatched his ticket book from the counter, “I’ll let you two be sappy together, don’t let me get in the way!”

Before Zen could get on Cannon’s case, he was distracted by hearing the elevated volume of Sugar’s voice. He pulled away from Sunny and made his way towards the back quickly. Sugar had been leaned against a pool table, hands gripping tightly along the edge. “You’re really going to continue telling me the same story she tells? The only thing I want is the truth!” “It was an accident, what do you want me to say? I know you want to blame her so badly but It was my fault. I shouldn’t have-”

“You are not that careless!” Sugar interupted, slamming a hand on the felt of the table, “Why are you defending her? I’m tired of this, I really am. I’ve spent these years watching you get dragged down by her and I’ve let it happen because I respect you as a friend. But now? I won’t allow it anymore. I demand you tell me the truth and then I expect you to press charges!”

“Respect me?” Clicks hissed in an aggressive whisper, “The only things I ever heard from you were complaints and unsavory comments about my girlfriend. All I ever did was try to keep the peace but that wasn’t enough for you! It hurts, Sugar. I’ve never gotten support from you when it came to my relationship and I needed it!”

“You want me to support you in having a shitty girlfriend? Fine. I give you my blessing. I hope the many years of a miserable life treat you well. Consider this my farewell because I refuse to associate with someone who has no regard for their own safety.” Zen cleared his throat loudly and stood between them, “Okay, enough. Are you even listening to yourself right now, Sugar? You’re threatening to break off your friendship with him before you can really talk about things! The two of you need to just take a breath and talk things out in a calm manner.”

Clicks shook his head and turned to leave, “It’s alright. If this is how he really feels then I will go. I don’t need him, especially now. If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading home. There is nothing left to say.” As tough as he tried to sound, his voice had a slight waiver in it, “Could you help me to the door, Zen?”

“Wait Clicks, I didn’t mean it...” Sugar said, almost pleading.

“Save it, Sugar. I heard you loud and clear. Consider us completely done.” Clicks said softly, “Goodbye, old friend.”

Sugar staggered back until he collided with the wall, the palm of his left hand rubbed along the bottom half of his face. This wasn’t the first time that Clicks had angrily walked away from him, but this was different - it felt definite. The guilt crept through his body knowing that not only was Clicks going through great emotional turmoil but physical disabilities as well.

The minutes before Zen returned felt like hours as Sugar’s head was weighed with all of his ideas on how to fix everything. He had lost his composure, let his emotions drive him to say things he didn’t really mean. Who was he, Zen? The very thought made him scowl but the moment the bartender’s arm slammed him back into the wall, he was quickly knocked back into reality.

“There are a lot of things I just brush off about you, Sugar. You’re arrogant, bossy, and condescending...but this? I won’t just let it slide. What the hell were you thinking to say those things to Clicks? He has enough on his plate and you ripped into him pretty badly.” Zen growled as he had Sugar pinned, “He not only puts up with shit from Goldie, but from you as well.” “I know, I was wrong.” Sugar said flatly, staring past the other man, “I need to go home. I have to figure things out.” “Yeah, figure it out and fix it! He was almost in tears when I got him into the cab. I refuse to have my friends fighting like that, especially you two.” Zen let go of him, straightening out his shirt, “I don’t care if you own this place, I don’t want to see you in here right now.” He took a few deep breaths and exhaled slowly, “I know you are worried about him, but this wasn’t the way to handle things. If you need anything, you can give me a call.”

Sugar nodded slowly as he gathered himself, “I know I’m not in any position to ask for a favor, but please keep in touch with him until I can smooth things over. If he needs anything, help him. He most likely won’t reach out to me at this point.”

Zen shrugged, “That’s not even a favor for you to ask. I would have done it regardless. Go on now, get out of here.” They both walked out from the back and Sunny tried to stop Sugar to speak to him but he ignored her to head out the door. She frowned, turning to Zen, “Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “Not really, but I hope they will be. Damn, it’s things like this that make me want to have a drink.”

“Excuse me?!” She exclaimed as she stomped towards him, “I don’t think so, mister! I’m watching you like a hawk!”

“It was a joke, Sunny. Relax!” He laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, “I just hate seeing things like this unfold the way they did.”

She huffed as she put her arm around his waist, “Not a funny joke…” Looking towards the door, she frowned, “I hope things turn around too. It’s not the same when they aren’t in here enjoying themselves.”

From across the bartop, Cannon was fuming as he saw them being so friendly. He had no idea what they were talking about but the sight of them with their arms around each other irritated him greatly, “I’m going home. It’s slow, and you don’t need me.”

Zen’s head snapped to look at him, “What? You’re supposed to be here until closing time! Are you feeling sick?”

“Yeah, sick of seeing you two.” He grumbled as he removed his apron, “I should check on Red since he’s under the weather. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Before Zen could further lecture him, he walked out of the bar.

Sunny tilted her head, “What’s his deal?”

Zen let go of her and made his way towards the beer kegs to refill a few drinks, “If I knew, I would be able to control him a bit more.” After he distributed the glasses, he lifted himself up to sit on the counter, “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Sunny. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! Don’t think I’m going to forget your little joke. I’m still keeping an eye on you!” She wagged a finger at him, but leaned forward onto the counter with him, “We’ll be fine, at least.”

taggerino: @zenscrotch @illneverrecover @suzunesays @serensama @kookiedoe @forever-ender

[junker-town]

The Bucks’ loss in the 2020 NBA Playoffs is a total organizational failure

The Bucks were outclassed by the Heat in every way.

The Milwaukee Bucks’ five-game series loss to the Miami Heat was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The Bucks’ obituary was being written in real time as Miami exposed glaring weaknesses in both their game plan and roster construction, but Milwaukee was either unable or unwilling to hit the brakes until it was too late.

There is no point in sugarcoating it: a second round elimination amounts to a total organizational failure for the Bucks. Blame starts with ownership, trickles down to the basketball decision-makers in the front office, fully encompasses the coaching staff, and finally hits the players. This series can’t be seen as anything but a referendum on each decision that ultimately led to the result.

The reality is that the Bucks were a great team that had an amazing season — that’s why anything less than a trip to the Finals was always going to be catastrophic. Milwaukee was playing at a 70-win pace during the regular season. Giannis Antetokounmpo deserved to win both the MVP and Defensive Player of the Year awards soon to be on his mantle. The Bucks had the league’s best defense, finished No. 8 in offense, and lapped the field in net rating — finishing +3.1 points per game better than the second best team in the NBA.

The Bucks were awesome this year. Unfortunately, to steal a line, it doesn’t mean a thing without the ring. It’s hard to blame Bucks fans if they’re already feeling exhausted by it all.

While Milwaukee’s failure will get all the attention, it’s worth emphasizing that the Heat won this series even more so than Milwaukee lost it. If the Bucks’ loss falls on every level of the organization, the Heat deserve the same widespread credit for their five-game win. It’s not just that the No. 5 seed Heat pulled off the upset — it’s that the series was never even close. There was no doubt Miami was the superior team and superior organization from the opening tip.

Now that it’s over, let’s look back on the all the ways the Bucks failed — and where Miami shined.

Bucks owners made an unforgivable mistake by playing it cheap with Malcolm Brogdon

Malcolm Brodgon was one of Milwaukee’s very few success stories in the NBA draft after Antetokounmpo was already on the roster. Brodgon established himself as one of the team’s best players during his run to the Rookie of the Year award in 2017. As he entered restricted free agency in the summer of 2019, Brogdon was coming off a remarkably efficient season where he joined the exclusive 50/40/90 club and also proved himself to be the Bucks’ top guard in the playoffs.

Milwaukee could have kept Brodgon at the cost of nothing but ownership’s money. Instead, Milwaukee chose to trade him to the Indiana Pacers for their first round draft pick after he had agreed to a four-year, $80 million deal. Ownership didn’t even try to cover it up at the time — Brogdon was let go only because the team didn’t want to pay the luxury tax.

“Was re-signing Malcolm an imperative?” Bucks co-owner Marc Lasry asked in a news conference before the season. “I think re-signing Malcolm was a luxury.

“Our view was that Malcolm is a phenomenal player. But for that amount of money, we thought we could have those dollars better spent elsewhere.

“And we’ll find out.”

Perhaps it’s worth pointing out that the Bucks did spent a lot of money locking up Khris Middleton, Brook Lopez, and Eric Bledsoe, who were all set to hit the open market at the same time as Brogdon. The Bucks still had the second-highest payroll in the NBA and no team finished the season above the luxury tax threshold. There were rumors that Brogdon wanted a larger role that he apparently wasn’t going to find in Milwaukee.

None of that is a legitimate excuse. The Bucks knew they were in for a championship-or-bust season. They know Giannis becomes an unrestricted free agent in the summer of 2021. Ownership should have been doing everything they could to put the best team on the floor, and that went out the window when they decided to play it cheap with Brogdon.

Brogdon was essentially the exact player the Bucks needed against the Heat: an elite spot-up shooter who could also run offense and create for teammates. Brogdon had an excellent year for the Pacers, making a strong push for All-Star consideration as he took on more playmaking duties. Even as the Pacers were swept out of the playoffs by the Heat, Brogdon still averaged 21.5 points and 10 assists per game in the series.

What’s even more insulting is that ownership decided not to pay the luxury tax with a championship contender after they asked Wisconsin tax payers to contribute $250 million to the team’s new stadium. Bucks ownership — led by New York hedge fund managers Wes Edens, Marc Lasry and Jamie Dinan — paid $550 million for a franchise that is now valued at $1.6 billion. They still put half the cost of the new arena on tax payers and just watched one of the team’s best players leave because they were too cheap to pay him.

Hey, Wisconsin taxpayers did their part ‍♂️

— NoTechBen (@NoTechBen) September 5, 2020

Eventually Bucks ownership will sell the team at a massive profit. The tax payers will be left with the burden of a paying off a depreciating asset with the new arena in the years to come. The very least they could have done is re-signed Brogdon to give Giannis the best possible chance at winning a championship. Here’s what Antetokounmpo told The Athletic on Brogdon in November.

“Definitely wish he was still here,” Antetokounmpo said. “One of my friends, one of the guys that I always teased every day when I see him — call him ugly, we’re just going back and forth. I’m going to miss that, but at the end of the day, you got to do what’s best for you. I wish him the best, I wish his team the best and I’m excited to play against him.”

Giannis shouldn’t be framing this as Brogdon’s decision to move on. Brogdon had no control over his future as a restricted free agent. Ownership could have and should have kept him. The coaching staff could have given him the additional creation duties he wanted.

Is Brogdon still a “luxury” for the Bucks after a five-game loss to the Heat? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

Mike Budenholzer’s philosophy on minute-management doesn’t make any sense

There’s a good chance the Bucks-Heat series would still be going on if head coach Mike Budenholzer played his best players more minutes. Think about how infuriating that sentence is for a second.

Coach Bud’s philosophy towards minutes distribution is well known. Antetokounmpo is poised to win MVP again despite finishing No. 71 in minutes per game during the regular season. Giannis actually played more minutes in the All-Star Game than he did during the Bucks’ march to the best record in the NBA. While it could be seen as admirable to protect your best players during the dog days of January and February, Budenholzer’s complete inability to adjust his minute allocations during the postseason is baffling.

Antetokounmpo played 37 minutes in Game 1, 36 minutes in Game 2, and 35 minutes in Game 3 against the Heat — all losses for the Bucks. Co-star Khris Middleton also didn’t crack 37 minutes in a game before the Bucks were down 3-0 in the series. Here’s what Budenholzer said after the Game 3 loss, when he referred to his best players getting 36 minutes as “pushing the ceiling.”

Here is Mike Budenholzer's full response when I asked if he regretted not playing Giannis Antetokounmpo (34:54) or Khris Middleton (36:02) more tonight: pic.twitter.com/qdj5LrltQ9

— Eric Nehm (@eric_nehm) September 5, 2020

It’s worth noting Miami’s best players played similar minutes in the series, but they were also winning the entire time. The better comparison is the team that ended Milwaukee’s season last year, the Toronto Raptors. Head coach Nick Nurse has regularly pushed his stars past the 40-minute mark in his team’s series against the Boston Celtics to battle out of an 0-2 hole to tie the seres.

Budenholzer eventually played Middleton 48 minutes in the Bucks’ Game 4 overtime victory after Giannis hurt his ankle. The Bucks won that game, and they wouldn’t have if Middleton played his customary 36 minutes in regulation. It was simply too late at that point for any real adjustments — the series was already out of hand.

Budenholzer will say that Antetokounmpo played so few minutes because he was going so hard during those minutes. That’s fair, but it’s also true that the regular season should have been used to ramp up for the playoffs. Giannis and Middleton had to learn how to handle 40+ minutes per night at times during the regular season so they were used to it in the playoffs.

The most disappointing thing about this was Budenholzer’s inability to learn from his own mistakes. The exact same scenario played out last season for the Bucks in the Eastern Conference Finals against the Raptors. Middleton only played 36.8 minutes per game in that series, and Antetokounmpo played 38.5. Milwaukee lost four straight games to lose that series after starting out up 2-0.

Budenholzer’s minutes management isn’t the only thing wrong with the Bucks’ coaching decisions — it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Budenholzer’s lack of tactical adjustments were a killer

It isn’t hard to see why Budenholzer was so obstinate in changing his game plan in the playoffs: his strategies helped make the Bucks the best regular season team in basketball. The Bucks played one style and they played it really well. But as we see in the playoffs every year, the best coaches are the ones who are willing to adjust when things aren’t working. Coach Bud refused to do that until it was too late.

The Bucks built the best defense in the league by putting Brook Lopez in drop coverage against the pick-and-roll all year. Miami was able to exploit it with Jimmy Butler and Goran Dragic hitting pull-up jumpers and floaters away from the rim. The obvious move for the Bucks was to start switching screens to take away the in-between space where the Heat were thriving, but there was only one problem: the Bucks never practiced it during the regular season.

The Bucks being so ill-prepared to adjust their defense showed the most when Lopez wasn’t on the floor. In lineups with Giannis or Marvin Williams at center — more mobile defenders than Lopez — Budenholzer still played drop coverage.

Bucks go small with Giannis but they love to keep him in a drop. Instead of a switch and taking away the roll and making Herro go vs. Giannis, Herro is able to make a routing play. Come off, wait for the defense to help on the roll and skip to Dragic for a 3. pic.twitter.com/iOgeH3SH12

— Steve Jones Jr. (@stevejones20) September 5, 2020

A refusal to tailor scheme to personnel was maddening for Bucks fans to watch. Again: this should have been worked on in the regular season so the team could be ready to switch in the playoffs.

Budenholzer also showed a lack of imagination in how he used both Giannis and Middleton. As Miami followed the game plan to defend Antetokounmpo put together by the Raptors last year — building a wall with multiple defenders to deny his drives to the paint — the Bucks kept ramming Giannis into that wall over and over. There were so many other ways to get him the ball in advantageous positions that the Bucks chose not to explore.

Why didn’t we see more actions with Middleton as the ball handler and Giannis as the screener? It worked effectively whenever Milwaukee went to it.

Giannis Antetokounmpo has only 18 possessions so far in the Playoff as the PnR Rollman. He's 11/12 (91.7%) from the field in these possessions, producing 1.56 PPP, while also drawing 6 shooting fouls. Just 18 possessions.

— Dean Maniatt (@AllTheBucks) September 4, 2020

This is the Middleton/Antetokounmpo Side PnR I mentioned as a way to get good looks. The Bucks run it in the 2nd possession of the game. The Heat know that Giannis will slip, they both go under to switch, so Middleton gets a wide-open 3. The Bucks went back to that play never. pic.twitter.com/ICzjVcNmMX

— Dean Maniatt (@AllTheBucks) September 5, 2020

If the Bucks want to see what good coaching looks like in the playoffs, look no further than the Heat. Miami played drop coverage during the start of the regular season before going with a more switch-heavy scheme after the trade deadline, as detailed by the great Nekias Duncan.

It’s hard to win in the playoffs only playing one style, regardless of how successful you’ve been with that style earlier in the year. The Bucks needed a changeup, but Budenholzer didn’t have them ready for it.

The Bucks’ roster was also flawed after too many failed draft picks

Budenholzer’s coaching certainly cost Milwaukee a chance at the series, but the Bucks’ struggles go beyond even that. Ultimately, Milwaukee’s roster just wasn’t good enough. Even scarier, they don’t have many realistic avenues towards improving it in the immediate future.

Beyond the decision to let Brogdon walk over money, Milwaukee has simply been terrible in the draft since selecting Giannis in 2013. Here’s what the Bucks have done with their recet draft picks:

Jabari Parker with the No. 2 overall pick in 2014

Rashad Vaughn with the No. 17 pick in 2015

Thon Maker with the No. 10 pick in 2016

D.J. Wilson with the No. 17 pick in 2017

Donte DiVincenzo with the No. 17 pick in 2018

The Bucks used their first round pick last year to trade Tony Snell in another cost-cutting move. DiVincenzo, who had something of a breakout year this season, is the only one of those draft picks to work out to any degree.

Hindsight is of course 2020, but teams simply cannot screw up the draft so often and expect to build a title contender. Joel Embiid went one pick after Parker in 2014. Montrezl Harrell and Larry Nance Jr. went after Vaughan in 2015. Domantas Sabonis went one pick after Maker in 2016. OG Anunoby went shortly after Wilson in 2017.

By blowing the draft so often, the Bucks had to rely on older veterans in the postseason that simply didn’t have enough athleticism to keep up with the Heat’s younger roster. If George Hill, Ersan İlyasova, Kyle Korver, and Robin Lopez weren’t good enough this year, they certainly won’t be in the future either as they’re all in their mid-30s. Eric Bledsoe was a disaster offensively, too, averaging 11.8 points per game on 32 percent shooting for the series.

The Bucks now need to overhaul parts their roster in the final season of Giannis’ contract next year. The only problem is they have no cap space and very few appealing trade assets. In that way, letting Brogdon go actually gave the team less flexibility, as he still would have been tradeable on his $80 million deal. What are the Bucks supposed to do now?

The Heat shined in all the ways the Bucks failed

Miami nailed two first round draft picks with Bam Adebayo and Tyler Herro, both taken outside the top-10. It made a hugely beneficial trade in-season by acquiring Jae Crowder and Andre Iguodala from Memphis. It landed a marquee free agent in Jimmy Butler. It also has a coach in Erik Spoelstra who isn’t scared to adjust his game plan in the pressure cooker of the NBA playoffs.

Yes, Giannis deserves some blame. He only hit 52.7 percent of his free throws in the series and had a noticeable lack of counters beat Miami’s wall. He certainly needs to add a mid-range jumper to his arsenal, among other things. Giannis will be better in the future. He’s still only 26 years old, an age where LeBron James and Michael Jordan came up short, too. It was the Bucks’ job to surround Giannis with the best environment possible, and they botched that by having a coach who wouldn’t adjust within a playoff series, by letting Brogdon go to save money, by wasting draft picks nearly every single year since his arrival.

Antetokounmpo said all the right things after Milwaukee’s second round playoff exit. He has talked publicly about wanting to stay in Milwaukee long-term so many times that it might be hard for him to actually leave as a free agent next summer. If Giannis takes a step back and looks at the reality of the situation, though, he’ll see a team that doesn’t have many good young players or appealing trade assets, owned by people who refused to pay up to keep one of his better teammates.

If Giannis really is happy in Milwaukee, the Bucks will have plenty more chances to win a championship. Maybe there’s a miracle Chris Paul trade around the corner even if it feels like other teams can beat Milwaukee’s best offer. Maybe this loss had more to the do with the matchup than anything else — Miami had also beat the Bucks twice in the regular season at full strength.

It’s just hard to look for positives right now. The Bucks blew it and the entire organization deserves to feel the heat. The nature of NBA basketball means the star player will get most of the blame, but the Bucks’ problems aren’t about Giannis. They’re about everything else.