#there was no manipulation because he made the deal without ever having heard from her when he did. it was his own impulse in the end.

[utilitycaster]

now that I think about it, and brought to you by seeing a deeply terrible take re: the Raven Queen, I think this is honestly also how a lot of people want to see the gods as well, as just "well there is a power imbalance so they are always going to be in the wrong and my blorbo [on whom I am very much projecting] is no longer accountable for any of their actions."

I could talk about Steel forever bc I love her and she's fascinating and complex but while all those thoughts about what she means within the worldbuilding and the story and to Suvi and during the children's adventure and within the Empire are important I really do think in the end I'm like. some of you just want all parents to be evil, and not just evil, but evil in a very easily written-off way that requires no thought or understanding of why they might be that way [which does not mean their behavior is justified, simply understandable] and I think that is very boring and dumb of you.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 3

Masterlist taglist

Hard conversations and 1st meal with the Omegas.

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl

There was one open seat left in the living room. An oversized, overstuffed chair. I moved around the others, not missing the way they leaned towards me to sniff as I passed by. I wanted to hug myself and hide. It was very weird to be sniffed so openly.

Felix sat close to Chan, still not looking up. Chan had an arm over his lap.

“Anyone here not completely convinced y/n is their Alpha? Our Alpha?” Chan asked.

I looked around the room, no one spoke up or raised their hand.

"None of the other Alphas even came close to smelling like her. My instincts are going crazy right now.” Hyunjin confirmed.

"Hey Chan.” I spoke saccharine sweet.

“Yeah?” He replied.

“I hate you.”

"No, you don’t. You’re just being dramatic.”

"My life is over! I’m allowed to be dramatic!

Chan just rolled his eyes, ignoring my entire fucking crisis. I wanted to scream, cry, and punch him all at the same time.

"Hyung, you said you were going to explain.” Changbin reminded.

And so, Chan went on to tell everyone all about his quick trip to my small town and the deal that was made. It occurred to me that I never planned beyond the week. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be the one to be able to bond with them. So, I made no plans on what to do next. If I should do anything.

“So, you’re not going to bond us?” Seungmin asked when Chan was finished.

They were all looking at me again, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. “I didn’t plan on this actually working.” I was the only response I would truly, honestly give them. I didn’t know what to do now.

"She is going to be here for the week. No one is going to bug or pressure her to stay beyond that.” Chan warned. “Let JYP and I discuss it with her.”

And I’m sure there will be a lot of discussions. A lot of promises made. Guilt trips. I would get it all.

"So, nothing’s been solved. We are still just as screwed as ever.” Lee Know sounded angry and I looked at my lap knowing this was all because of me.

I stood up. “Maybe I should go-“ I pointed a thumb at the door.

“No!” The response was immediate and from every Omega in the room, making me blink.

Han reached and grabbed my forearm. “You promised a week.” He reminded. His chemo signals smelled of anxiety and fear.

“To a hotel. I was going to say to a hotel.” I finished. I had meant to suggest the hotel to give them time to discuss this without me.

“We can’t guarantee no one will smell your subgender in a hotel. It’s not safe.” Cahn reminded gently.

I let my head fall back before I dropped into a crouched ball and hid my face in my knees and arms, tears threatening behind my eyes. Everything was so messed up now.

I felt someone crouch next to me and start to rub my back, but I didn’t look to see who.

"You guys know how dangerous it can be for an Alpha nowadays.” Chan started talking again, softly. “We have heard horror stories from almost every Alpha we’ve tried. y/n has been hiding her subgender with suppressants. Even coming here is a huge risk for her. Let’s all keep that in mind.”

There was a heavy thump on my upper arm that I assumed was the person rubbing my back resting their forehead on me. The contacts made me feel better.

They showed me to what appeared to be a guest bedroom. There were faint scents of other Alphas so this must have been made up specifically for potential bonding Alphas. It even has its own bathroom. It just reminded me again what I am really here for.

I sighed and bid them goodnight, shutting the door with no plans to actually sleep. I was on an opposite sleep schedule then them. And I slept on the plane not too long ago.

By the end of the week, I’ll be on the same sleep schedule as them, only to go home and repeat the whole process all over again.

Instead, I stripped off my clothes and ran a nice hot bath. Grabbing my phone and a book I brought I slowly settled into the water, hoping for a relaxing time reading and doom scrolling to pass the night.

I did manage a few hours of sleep near dawn. Hopefully enough to get me through the day. I was awake and dressed for the day when Chan knocked on my door. I bid him enter.

“Um, breakfast is ready.” He informed. He looked unsure.

I nodded. “I’ll be right out.” I needed a moment to gather the strength and courage to face everyone again. My dream of meeting Stray Kids has turned into a nightmare.

But instead of leaving, Chan stepped in and shut the door. I watched him in question.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. Things did not go like any of us planned.”

I snorted softly. That was an understatement. “It’s fine, Chan. I just-I don’t know what to do now.” I admitted.

He smiled sadly and nodded. “Well, you have all week to figure it out. In the meantime, just enjoy your time here.”

I followed Chan out to the table where everyone was sitting in varying stages of being awake. I sat at an empty chair between Seungmin and I.N, noticing no one had started eating yet. I wondered what they were waiting on.

When I was settled I.N started putting food on my plate for me. Heavy on all the best stuff. Then he sat back, and everyone looked at me. I blinked not knowing what they wanted.

“You have to start eating.” Han whispered helpfully from across the table.

“Why?” I whispered back. I was the only one with food, it would be rude to eat in front of them.

“You’re Alpha.” He said it like that explained everything.

“It’s an instinct thing. Just take a bite.” Seungmin sounded exasperated with the whole thing.

So, I picked up my chopsticks and took a bite. As soon as I did, they flurried into motion, filling their own plate and eating. Then I realized what happened. It finally clicked into place.

Their Omega instincts wouldn’t let them start eating until their freaking Alpha did. I felt sick to my stomach suddenly and set my chopsticks down.

I stayed at the table only because if I left it would have upset them, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat another bite. If any of them noticed, they didn’t bring it up. Instead, they talked amongst themselves, pretty much ignoring me entirely now that I did what they needed.

Slowly they all finished and left the table to start their day, leaving the dishes, leftovers, and me alone at the table. My eyes pricked with tears again as I started to gather dishes to clean up.

This is what they expected from their Alpha. Follow them around the world, take care of them, clean up after them, fulfill their instinctual needs. If I stayed, that’s what I had to look forward to at “home”. Meanwhile, their managers would shape me into the idol Alpha that can be seen with Stay Kids and make them money.

I put away the food, did the dishes, wiped the table, and swept the floor all in silence. While I did, I could hear the 8 Omegas going about their day. A small group was in the living room playing games. Some were in their rooms; doors open but doing their own thing. They were loud, yelling at each other from different rooms. Chaotic as they enjoyed their days.

With nothing else to do I set up my laptop at the table, put some headphones in, and logged into work. I would get an email from my boss later since I was supposed to be on vacation, but it was after hours back home, so he wouldn’t know for hours yet, and I needed a distraction.

There wasn’t so much a lunch as people made something to eat when they were hungry, so I was spared being used as an Alpha for the moment. I had a feeling dinner would not be the same story.

Not even one of them spoke to me all day. Ignored my presence as if I was a lamp or coffee table, only interacting with me when they needed me.

“You’re stinking up the room.” Lee Know complained as I.N filled up my dinner plate.

I had been in my own depressing thoughts as I stared at my plate. Instead of answering him I took a bite of food and chewed as they all loaded their dishes.

I was once again left with clean up.

As I was washing dishes, the doorbell rang. Assuming someone would get it, I kept washing. The bell rang again a minute later.

“Someone get the door!” Seungmin yelled.

I sighed as I dried my hands as I walked over to the door. It was JYP. “Chans in the living room.” I informed him as I went back to the dishes.

But he followed me instead. “They already have you doing chores, huh?” He joked.

I tried to smile, but my lips wobbled dangerously so I quickly looked away, back to the dishes. “Just doing my job. An Alpha takes care of their Omegas. Even prospective ones. However temporary.”

That’s right. This was only for the promised week. I didn’t have to stay. They weren’t my Omegas. 1 week, and my end of the bargain was fulfilled. Just play their game.

Since I was avoiding looking up from the dishes, I was startled when JYPs hand entered my vision, gently taking the sponge. I looked over. He had rolled his sleeves up to the elbows.

“Let me help. You can dry.” He said gently.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb

[bitethedevil]

If you’re taking writing prompts consider-

Raphael reacting to Tav/Durge confessing they’re in love with him

I made it a Durge because I haven't written a lot of Durge stuff (fun fact: the first longer fic I ever wrote was with a Durge warlock that had Raph as a patron, but I never released it). Raph is being a bit of a manipulative dick in this one, but what's new. Also, I'm slow as fuck at replying to my asks (especially prompts)

Love

Clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack.

His office was deadly quiet except for the sound of his claws tapping on the hard mahogany of his desk, a dangerous rhythm that she knew immediately what meant the second she heard it. The rhythm echoed her heartbeat as she waited for her patron to say something. She was in trouble.

He was leaning against his desk, looking at her and keeping her in suspense. A cruel smile stretched over his face, as he saw how she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She had defeated monsters, mindflayers, gods…even the biggest monster of them all, her father. Still, nothing made her stomach churn more than the thought of Raphael’s wrath.

The feeling humiliated her as much as it thrilled her and drew her closer to him. She had been a god in her own right with all the lives she took under Bhaal and the cult she had led in his name, but this mere cambion brought her to her knees.

She was like a moth to his fiery flames. Everything about him excited her: his cruelness, his gracious mercy at times, his power plays. He felt like home. There was something safe and known in that cruelty that drew her closer. It was something she understood the rules of.

Click clack…

“I have always questioned your loyalty,” he finally said and moved his claws up to his face to look at them as he spoke. “It is no secret that I am prone to play favorites, but perhaps I made a mistake when I took you in…”

His yellow eyes looked up at her. His comment hit her like a punch to the gut and she knew as well as him that that was the intended effect. She hated the feeling of disappointing him. She hated that she felt that way about it even more. She cleared her throat.

“What is this about?” she asked quietly.

That was the wrong question. She could see it from the way his tail flicked in irritation. She had taught herself every one of his physical cues. They were subtle sometimes, but easier to read in this form. The man had total control over his body, but the devil was just a tad less composed.

“What is this about?” he repeated his question in a smooth, even tone. “Many things, my dear.”

That was another thing she had learned: it was never just one thing. Raphael held grudges. He archived every little mistake in his head in neat files, so he could throw them in your face when you stepped out of line.

“You came crawling to me after your father spat you out, after defying me at every turn and without a crown for me. You begged me to take you in, and yet I question your devotion to my cause. You owe me a grand debt when it comes to loyalty. A debt you have not yet paid back with your services, and one that I now question if you will ever pay back if you keep associating yourself with the wrong people.”

She had wanted to give him the Crown of Karsus. She had liked him even back then. Her companions had fought her every step of the way, and with her dealing with Bhaal, she had too much on her plate to fight them on it.

“It wasn’t my choice, Raphael,” she pleaded. “You know—”

“Yes, yes,” he cut her off impatiently with a wave of his clawed hand. “I have heard all your endless excuses…and I graciously forgave you, didn’t I? You would have been a bloody stain on my carpet long ago if I had not. What I cannot forgive is disloyalty.”

“Raphael, please,” she pleaded quietly. “Just tell me what I have done. I’ll make it right.”

Another flick of his tail. His nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, but he quickly schooled his features back into one of indifference.

“What were you doing in Waterdeep?” he asked slowly, each word as heavy as a brick.

That was what all of this was about. She had visited Gale. Gale who had been the very reason that the Crown of Karsus did not go to Raphael. Gale and her had started out as friends, but it evolved to something more along the way. It did not work out. Gale was too perfect, too functional for her. She broke his heart, and she would be lying if she said that this fact wasn’t taken into consideration when she gave up on trying to give to the Crown of Karsus to Raphael.

“I was just visiting,” she admitted. “Nothing more.”

“Just visiting,” he repeated with a hint of venom in his voice. “Just visiting an old flame that snubbed your patron of what was rightfully his, is that right? Is he well, our dear Gale? Does his new unburdened life suit him?”

“We are friends—”

“Friends,” Raphael said with a cruel laugh. “How awfully sentimental of you, dear. How soft you have become. I remember a ruthless woman who murdered her way through Baldur’s Gate. That woman, I could have used. It seems that your father has stripped you of everything that once made you interesting.”

That comment made her furious. It made her blood boil, but then why was she on the verge of crying instead? Why did she find herself pleading instead of yelling?

“Gale and I have been through hell and back,” she said. “It doesn’t change my loyalties for you. Please, Raphael.”

“I will NOT be made to look a fool!!” he roared with a sudden fire in his eyes.

The sound boomed through his office. She flinched. His tail flicked from side to side now. He looked her up and down. It seemed to please him how she was turning pale at his words and tearing up. He returned to his calm and collected demeanor as quickly as he got angry.

“Why are you crying?” he asked without a shred of sympathy in the question.

She tried to stop, but she couldn’t. She just wanted him to understand that she was devoted to him, and that this was all a mistake. She had not meant to cross him or make him angry, but merely to visit an old friend. His nails started tapping on the table again as he waited for her to speak.

“Can’t you— can’t you see that I’m only loyal to you?” she sobbed. Clack, clack… “I made a contract with you because I wanted to work for you. I’m yours, and only yours.” Clack, clack, clack. “Can’t you see how I only want to please you? How much I love you?”

Clack.

He froze for a moment at the oddly heartfelt confession that escaped her lips. She had not meant for that to come out, but he was great at pressuring her into saying things she didn’t want to admit. It was a humiliating confession. She hated being so vulnerable and weak. She wished that she could stuff the words right back down her throat. He wasn’t supposed to know.

A smile spread over his otherwise frozen face. He looked her up and down and let out a small huff of laughter. He looked like a man who had just been handed the perfect weapon. His hand left the table and beckoned her closer with a finger.

She walked over to him, unable to look him in the eye. He tilted her head up with a claw under her chin. He towered over her in that form.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She looked into his yellow eyes. He was smiling at her.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she repeated.

The humiliation in the confession was more apparent this time, and he was eating it up like it was the best meal he had had in centuries. He laughed her straight in the face.

“Oh, dear,” he said with a chuckle. “A creature of habit, aren’t you? You poor girl…”

She swallowed hard. She should have just shut up. His thumb ran over her jaw and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch set her aflame, despite the excruciating embarrassment she was feeling.

“Do I remind you of your dear old papa?” he asked, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Is that what this is about? It is always the fathers, isn’t it? Still searching for the approval of a cruel master, even now. Perhaps you haven’t changed at all, my dear…”

She kept quiet. He leaned closer as if sharing a secret. She could smell wine and tobacco on his breath. His thumb rubbed circles on her jaw.

“Tell me,” he whispered to her. “Where did your dear Gale fit into this picture? I’m awfully curious.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips for only a second, but he didn’t miss it by the way his smile widened.

There was only one acceptable answer and she prayed that she would choose the right one. She shrugged.

“He didn’t,” she said quietly.

That was the right answer from the way his smile widened.

“No, I would imagine not,” he said. “Too…boring…wasn’t he? He was not enough of a challenge for you, so you discarded him.”

There was a hint of guilt in her eyes at his words. He tutted gently and caressed her cheek.

“Who could blame you?” he cooed. “People like us won’t concern ourselves with boredom. You were right in choosing to focus on greater things. Gale was easy. Pleasing him was easy. He would not make you fight for it like I will.”

That promise made a shiver go through her. Raphael grabbed her arm and tugged her even closer, until she was standing between his legs with her chest pressed against his. His hand came to rest on her hip. He pressed his forehead against her, his nose touching hers. He was tantalizingly close.

“You are mine then, aren’t you?” he asked. “Only mine.”

She nodded. He gave a dangerous smile.

“You want to please me,” he said. “To make me happy…”

Another nod.

“You love and adore me.”

Another nod. His lips were so close she could almost taste them. His thumb was rubbing circles into her hip. His tail was flicking side to side, but not in rage. It was more like a cat that is ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey that it had been sneaking up on for a while.

“You will write a letter to Gale Dekarios and say that you are unavailable for any future visits,” he whispered against her lips. “That you have already done plenty for him and that you never want to see him again.”

His lips brushed lightly against hers before he pulled away, stealing her breath. She chased his lips, but he only smiled and pulled away further. She knew she had to earn it.

“Go. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” he said with a smile and let go of her.

[myokk]

The Babbit siblings, Leonard & Eloise 🫶

Info about their dynamics/more about Leo:

This is also super dramatic😆 idk what sort of mood I was in when I made all of this up🙏

He’s one year older than Eloise. Ever since she was born, he’s been fiercely protective of her and loves her so much. His first year at Hogwarts, he kept sending her long letters about how amazing it was and how he was excited to show her everything the following year (even though it was all but assumed she was a squib, he still believed she would show magic & be admitted). Leonard was going to be such a proud big brother😭😭 not embarrassed about her at all but showing her off etc😭😭😭😭 The summer after his first year was the worst of his life. It was the summer Eloise was exiled from their family….he witnessed the whole thing…their mom completely lost it (á la Bellatrix) and would have killed Eloise if their father hadn’t intervened on time (but their father had watched and let it get to that point😔). Leo was left alone with a dying little sister and he didn’t know how to help her….he’d only JUST finished his first year of Hogwarts…and then she was taken away and their parents pretended like she had never existed. He had to as well…what else could a 12-year-old who’d been taught by birth to obey his parents do??

(it was IMPOSSIBLE to forget her…and yet he had to try bc the parents are really manipulative and emotionally abusive…and he was always raised to be the perfect son) And then when he returned to Hogwarts…he saw two twins who were also quiet and reminded him a lot of his sister. Their parents had just died and he kind of put his energy that he had been going to use to show Eloise everything etc into them and he became really close with them & Ominis. He and Ominis were also close because they have some experiences in common & honestly at the end of the day there isn’t that much difference in their ages) But then…after Anne was cursed Leo was DEVASTATED. He was going to lose another girl who was like a sister to him….bc of his parents he had never told them about Eloise (nobody except their family knew about her existence) and so he and Sebastian got into a HUGE fight. Because Sebastian had never heard of Eloise, when he saw that Leo was just as devastated as HE was… there was just no way that Leo could understand what he was going through, and Leo had no right to be affected as much as HE WAS😤

Like the dumb teenage boys they are, they couldn’t deal with their big emotions (Leo is also a lot like Eloise in that aspect probably bc of their parents…pushing away any uncomfortable emotions instead of dealing with them, until it builds and builds and he just explodes when they’re too much) and he and Sebastian took it out on each other and instead of talking they had a duel that almost killed each other😤😭😤😭 ever since then they’ve hated each other with a passion.

Pffffffff Eloise had no idea….she was really getting along with Sebastian but also wasn’t saying her last name at all and so the two of them had already started to kind of be friends before Sebastian found out that she was LEO’S SISTER😫😤😤 then he hated her too!! Bc he thought that she was in with her brother and they had worked together to TRICK HIM like a little evil inside joke…playing with Sebastian and his emotions like the previous yesr😔😔😔 (Obviously wasn’t the case, Sebastian just jumps to conclusions without thinking which is ALSO what happened when he and Leo had their huge fight😤)

But yeah now that Eloise is back Leo doesn’t know what to do….he recognized her immediately when she walked in the Great Hall to be sorted…🤯🤯 but he isn’t good with feeling emotions and neither is she and neither of them know how to recreate the close relationship they had as children😫😫

Leo is serious, quiet, bad with emotions, but when he lets someone in they are a part of his life forever (yes even Sebastian the dumbass)

Some excerpts from my fic that involve Leo 💓 it’s Eloise/Sebastian alternating POV, so this is all Eloise’s perspective:

“Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he had, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, averting his eyes. The students sitting around him were looking between the two of them curiously but before Eloise could begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.”

“Her relationship with her brother had always had an undercurrent of fear running through it. No matter how hard she tried as a child, there was always something she had done wrong, and Leo was always there to protect her. Or try to, anyway. The two of them had always lived under the shadow of their parents’ abuse and didn’t know any other way of relating to each other.

But here, with Anne, Leo was murmuring apologies into her hair as she cried, reassuring and comforting her in a way he had never been able to with his own sister.

Eloise felt sick. Sick at seeing them, sick at her own jealousy. Had Leo replaced her with Anne - that year when Eloise was supposed to join Hogwarts - to try and cover the bitter disappointment of not being able to proudly show off his younger sister? They had spent so many nights that summer before her Hogwarts letter never came, sneaking out to the garden late at night, Leo reassuring her that she would be fine and telling her about all of the magic and wonder at Hogwarts that was waiting for her. He promised her that she could sit with him on the train, that he wouldn’t be embarrassed by her.

And then…

Turning away from the two of them, Eloise headed towards the apples. She hated the emotions roiling around inside of her. She should be happy. She had saved Anne, and now things were going to go back to normal, how they were before she arrived. Eloise trailed her hand on the back of the couch, trying to focus on the feeling of soft velvet, calm her racing emotions.”

If you read all of this….You’re amazing & I love you🥹💓🥹💓 tbh I have MORE about the two of them & their family, but this was already getting so long😵‍💫

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

… I can’t imagine that we actually watched the same show. Like I REALLY AISNSOSNWKMEJDND

hold on I’m gonna need to calm down.

Let me just make a list of why I disagree and at least organize my anger. Long post incoming.

Vander was friends and had a deal with Grayson. The sheriff. Idk what else to even add to that

Caitlyn is more than a cop and Arcane isn’t copaganda. Genuinely don’t know what kind of progress some of these people are looking for. Real allies are a necessity for real progress.

SILCO IS A CLASS TRAITOR. HE FUNNELLED DRUGS INTO THE UNDERCITY AND PUT POOR KIDS IN FACTORIES FOR THAT DRUG FOR PROFIT!!! HE PAID THE ENFORCERS TO LET HIM DO IT WITHOUT CONSEQUENCE

Vi is not as much as an activist as you would like to believe

WHY IS EKKO NEVER EVER BROUGHT UP IN THESE CONVERSATIONS????

Silco was not good for the Undercity

Silco was not a great guy. Ekko had to build an entire separate hidden community for the people he hurt and stepped on for his own benefit

Caitlyn is ignorant and naive. That’s ok. That’s what character development is for.

Loving imperfect characters like Silco and Jinx then hating characters like Vi and Caitlyn is peak media illiteracy to me

FOR THE LAST TIME: VI DIDNT ABANDON POWDER!!!!! Silco literally wanted Vi DEAD for trying to stop him from killing Vander??? How could you possibly say silco was there for jinx when Vi refused to be???? SHE WAS IN PRISON BECAUSE OF HIM???

Silco’s manipulation is working wonders on y’all

Embracing all the outrage without at all looking out for the people harmed by bigotry is not activism

SILCO IS A CLASS TRAITOR x929282929394

Caitlyn was the first person in years to show Vi kindness and care. She listened and stuck by her and took care of her after Vi was locked up for years and beat up by cops (i wonder what led her to be thrown in there?). Cait being a cop stopped being a point of contention once Vi recognized her naivety and genuineness.

NUANCE NUANCE NUANCE. ITS NEVER EVER BLACK AND WHITE

The only way I can see Vi touching ‘class traitor’ in season one was the shimmer raid. Guess who the hell put those kids in there in the first place.

Just hanging out with Caitlyn isn’t being a class traitor if Vander’s allowed to be friends with Grayson.

Critical thinking is very necessary for watching shows like Arcane

What the hell did Silco really do for the Undercity???? What changed over the 7(ish) years he was basically in power of the place? All I’ve heard was he made the air cleaner, which would be great except for, you know, shimmer and the child factory workers

Jinx is unwell and feeding into it like this in a fully serious manor would not help Arcane as a show at all

What do you want Arcane’s message as a full show to be? ‘Screw cops’? That’s a little boring and unproductive isn’t it?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT EKKO AND HIS IMPACT PLEASE???? x9382728283

Caitlyn is trying to make Piltover and Zaun a better place. Is that not allowed? Am I missing something?

Caitlyn and Vi’s arcs have only just started. Season one is basically fully set up except for characters like silco and Jinx. This is far from the end.

Genuinely think Vander would appreciate Vi for being friends (using this term loosely because they are in love) with Caitlyn considering he was the one who was opposed to war and Vi wasn’t.

Silco should NOT be your idea of Undercity independence and respect. He oppressed the Undercity the same way the Council and the Enforcers did. He helped no one but himself, his team (barely) and Jinx.

You’re allowed to like and dislike any character you want but pretending like Silco is better for the Undercity than others is just so ridiculous to me. Everyone is of course completely allowed to like Silco, but we can’t pretend like he’s this stand up guy. If you have to pretend like he was, maybe you don’t like him as much as you think.

“Because Cait’s pretty” is also incredibly incorrect. Go check point #14.

Vi never stopped loving and caring for Powder. Powder’s mental health issues were amplified and utilized by Silco because he couldn’t even heal himself.

If all of your opinions of Caitlyn and Vi start and end with “cops suck” and “class traitor” then you genuinely don’t respect Arcane as a show enough to show you nuance.

The misinterpretation of characters is just so … it’s like you go out of your way to love and/or hate characters no matter how much they show you who you are.

Your closed mindedness is clouding your judgement and making you out to seem like you don’t actually want the Undercity’s triumph, you want Silco and Jinx’s, even if it means ruining the Undercity. And that would be fine because father/daughter evil duo but trying to say you’re all for this duo because you want what’s better for the Undercity when they continue to hurt it is simply not correct and very harmful (to fictional characters in a fictional universe 😭)

Only being able to understand how Silco and Jinx were oppressed and therefore should be able to not just destroy Piltover but also Zaun is not the eat you think it is

Why is Viktor never called a class traitor? I think he's great (I also think Silco and Jinx are wonderfully written) but we hardly saw him in the Undercity/ interact with people from the Undercity plus he killed someone (Sky) from there (accidentally)

EDIT TO ADD ANOTHER POINT: Caitlyn has shown little to NO malicious intent and has no real negative impacts other than Jinx’s attachment issues and insecurities being amplified by her mere existence. Again, this is her story and development. Throughout the season she is exposed to reality and recognizes her and her peers/ families wrongs. I have no idea what you want from this character. Should Piltover just be gotten rid of in the story? Then what? Should Caitlyn have just never gotten involved and continued to embrace her privilege? Should she have left Vi in prison and stay ignorant?

[beejunos]

SINNERMAN | Alastor x f.reader | part 2

Summary: After Sir Pentious’s failed attempt at spying on the hotel, the Vees approach you to make a new deal—a deal that you can’t refuse. Help them take down Alastor, and you will get to kill him again.

After all, the great butcher of New Orleans had killed your brother, so it was only fair that you had killed him in return. And you would love to do it again.

Tags: Alastor x f!reader, slow burn, obsessive behaviour, enemies to lovers, spying, murder

PART 1. | PART 2. | Part 3. | AO3

Chapter 2. Offers of Champagne

Even if your office had modern technology incorporated into the older environment, you still preferred the sound of an old record player over the more modern ones. There was just something so soothing about an older record player, with its raspy and non-clean sound. 

It almost made you wish that you had died at an older age so that you could have experienced the evolution of music, but thankfully, your staff members loved to share the music they had loved to listen to while alive with you, and you often listened collectively to someone's choice in music at the end of a work day. Your only rule was that if they were going to play their music in the afternoon in the office, they had to use the LP record player and never a CD. 

The look on Vox's face, as he re-entered your office and heard the soft music from the record player echoing in the large open-plan office, had been equally confused and intrigued, and you wondered if his home was comprised of primarily modern technology. He was, after all, the owner of Prids tech giant.

"Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?" Oh, how you wished you had been alive to hear Nina Simone sing this song.

You stood still by the door to your private office, waiting for Vox to approach. He kept closing and opening his fists as he got closer and closer to the open door, his shoulders tensing as a slight buzzing sound came from him. 

"I did not expect you and your colleagues to get the 1500 souls so fast. You are full of surprises, Mr. Vox." You did not intend to torment him; you had never tormented any clients before, but you could not help yourself to tease him a bit. He was just so reactive, and your grin only grew as he shot you an irked glance.

The last thing you hear of Nina before closing the door behind Vox is her prayer for the Lord to save her. Oh, how ironicly fitting for Hell. 

"It was not too much of a hassle," lied Vox as he sat down on the same moss green couch he sat on the first time the two of you met.

In reality, Velvet and Valentino had been furious with Vox that he had agreed to the deal without talking to them beforehand, but because of the nature of dealmaking in Hell, they could not back down from the contract. It was binding, and everyone's hands were tied. You could not not fulfil their request, and they could not ignore paying you. 

"It has only been three business days. Usually, it takes weeks until I get paid for these delicate contracts," you said, folding your wings over the backset of your green armchair as you sat down. Even if wings had turned out to be a terrific addition to your afterlife, they could be quite a nuisance to live with. Sitting down in chairs and even sleeping could be quite an ordeal that had taken you some time to get used to, but it didn't outweigh the freeing feeling of flying.

As you cross your legs in front of you, effectively accentuating their curve in your black pencil skirt, you say Vox's eyes flicker down briefly before looking back up at your face. The disadvantage of having a TV screen as the face of your demonic form was that every eye movement one made became far more apparent to the observers. 

You dully noted Vox's small attraction toward you and filed it away in your mind. Keeping the information if you ever had to manipulate him again when his obsession wasn't driving his actions.

"Well, as you may know, you can always trust us to deliver," disclosed Vox, trying to give you a confident and suggestive smirk. You leaned your arm against the armrest, using your hand to cover the grin that pulled at the corner of your mouth.

Vox had a charm to him in a very pathetic way, but then again, you had never met a man who wasn't pathetic.

"After this meeting, I don't want you or your colleagues contacting me unless it is absolutely necessary. If you need me, you will first contact Claudine, and she will contact me. The less we interact, the easier my job becomes." 

Vox nodded in confirmation. His eyes glowed with determination. 

The transfer of souls was a harmless and relatively uneventful ordeal compared to whenever a deal was struck. You and Vox would shake hands, just like any other deal, but this time, there would be a golden light and the outlines of chains spinning around your hands instead of the sickly green light you were more used to. You could feel the souls moving from Vox's being over to you, and it felt almost like you could breathe easier. Your wings and ears twitched as you inhaled deeply at the feel of your powers expanding inside you. 

When you let go of the overlord's hand, Vox looked paler than usual. His hand shaking as he pulled it towards himself. 

"Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe something to eat?" you asked softly, feeling sorry for the sinner. Even if transferring soul contracts from one sinner to another doesn't look like a burdensome experience, it could drain the energy of the one giving the souls away relatively fast. You had found that the best remedy for that specific type of fatigue was to drink something warm and have something small to eat. 

Vox only nodded before he sank down further into your sofa. 

On the outside, Hell and Pride could seem like lawless societies where the laws of the jungle prevailed, and to a certain extent, it was so, but there was also a part of Pride where people grasped after power with greedy hands. If not through physical means, then by being the most cunning person in the room. 

Most sinners playing these games desperately tried to be the ones playing the game of chess instead of being the pawns on the playfield. However, only a few of the sinners were able to become players instead of tools in these vicious games. 

After all, this was the Pride ring of Hell. Reputation and connections were everything, and you prided yourself in having lots of connections all throughout the city and even beyond it. 

Connections and deals were the silent currency of Pride, and thanks to you being rich in this, you were able to get into a highly private gala event that you knew the princess of Hell, Charlotte "Charlie" Morningstar, would attend. 

While Vox had argued in your meeting that you should have just gone to the hotel and introduced yourself to the princess instead of waiting a week, you claimed that a tactic like that would not have been natural and could have created suspicion in the others. Something that you did not have the luxury of even considering. 

Instead, you went with your idea, which led you to the private gala and to mingle with highly prolific sinners and demons in a penthouse overlooking the city. 

As you walked through the penthouse after politely leaving a conversation with a gorgon-like demon and a sinner with two heads, you grabbed two glasses of champagne as a staff member passed you by. Your green and black striped satin dress swayed like water as you moved through the crowd, heading to a downfallen Charlie, who had unsuccessfully tried to talk to someone about her hotel. 

"I would not morn the conversation you may have had with that sinner," you said in a soft voice, pointing with the champagne glass in hand at the shark demon Charlie had just talked to, "Mr Dubois is known for his drug dealings, and he is also a compulsory lier who is probably the worst thief I have ever seen." 

"Oh, really?" Charlie sounded genuinely surprised as she looked over at Mr Dubois, who was trying to talk to a representative from the Wrath ring. How the shark demon had made it into this gala was beyond you. Maybe he had a PR specialist who could work magic? 

You offered the princess the extra glass of champagne you had brought, which she took gingerly. Creating a better opportunity for you to trap her in your conversation. 

"I saw your interview on the news about your hotel." You said while taking a small sip of the bubbly alcohol, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim of the glass. "I'm sorry for how that woman, Katie Killjoy, treated you." 

Charlie almost looked physically pained by your reminder of that event, and you felt genuinely sorry for the girl. 

You assumed she was here to find more influential people supporting her dreams, but you knew she was fighting a losing battle. Charlie could, of course, be good at networking-after all, you did not know her that well, but you would rather guess that her dreams of rehabilitating sinners were so ludicrous that no one wanted to listen to her. You would even go so far as to say it was a miracle she had gotten someone like Alastor to help her, and you were dying to find out the bastard motives. 

"I must say, you are very brave in pursuing your ambitions. I know many sinners who, in secret, would be open to the idea of salvation and seek it if they could." It was half a truth and half a lie, your unique skill. You did know many sinners just like yourself, sinners who had done horrible things in self-defence or to protect someone else, and that had landed them a one-way ticket to the burning pits of Hell. But they were not evil souls. They did not thrive in misery or seek to hurt others; in your opinion, they would be the best candidates for the rehabilitation program. The problem was, though, that these sinners, like so many others, believed that they deserved to be in Hell, and that was what kept most of them away from the Hazbin Hotel. 

That, and the hotel's horrendous marketing. 

"Oh, thank you! That's very kind of you," said Charlie, turning more toward you. "I don't think we have met before. I'm Charlie. Morningstar." 

Her last name came out softer and more hesitant than before, and you wondered if the princess was a bit embarrassed by her heritage or if she was just modes. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charlie. I am Monroe; I own the PR agency downtown," answered you using your sinner name. Most demons and sinners used a false and made-up name in Hell, including you. It was easier to detach yourself from your humanity, effectively accepting that you were a sinner, the scum of the afterlife, if one used a pseudonym of sorts. It was easier to live a life in Hell as someone else, the thing that everyone expected you to be, and with a new name, it became more prominent that you were a new "person". 

Only a handful of sinners used their human names in the afterlife, like Alastor, and every single one of them gave you the creeps. 

It was just something so disturbing of a sinner keeping their human name. It was as if they still saw themselves as their human selves or were proud of the lives they had lived. 

Rosie, the overlord of Cannibal Town, was the only sinner who still kept their human name and who you enjoyed spending time with. But that was mostly because she made the second-best cup of tea in all of Pride, after yours, of course.

"I must confess, princess." You leaned over towards Charlie, tilting your head down as you looked up at her, making your eyes look bigger and more innocent than you were. You wanted to create the feeling that your conversation was just for the two of you. A private and personal confession between friends. For that was what you wanted her to see you as, a potential friend. 

"I believe your Hazbin Hotel is Hell's best shot against the exterminations, and I want to help you in any way I can."

"You do?!" Charlie whispered quite loudly back towards you as a childish light danced in her eyes, almost making you regret deceiving her. 

"Yes, I do!" you said, faking excitement. "I think the hotel could really work. I don't know if I can help with the redemption part, but I'm somewhat of an expert in PR, and I think if we could just change the hotel's reputation, sinners would flock to the hotel like bees to honey." 

"But you are a sinner, yourself. Don't you want to be redeemed and go to heaven?"

You looked over at Charlie with genuine surprise. It seemed that you had underestimated her. 

You had assumed that Charlie's excitement would cloud her judgment and not question your involvement in her business, but you had not guessed that she would ask you if you did not want to be redeemed instead.

You inhaled and sighed softly as you closed your eyes. To Charlie, it would look like you were contemplating her question, but in reality, you were quickly thinking of an excuse for why you should be hired and not enrolled in her rehabilitation program.

"One day, maybe I'll be ready for the possibility of being redeemed, but I don't believe that is in the cards for me right now."

"The first step is just to want redemption," said Charlie softly, placing her hand on your arm to comfort. You gave her a genuine smile as you put your own hand over hers. 

The princess was too soft and trusting for her own good.

"The things I have done are not actions that can be redeemed so easily, and I still believe I need to atone for my sins," you lied straight through your teeth. There was not a single atom in your demonic body that believed that what you had done was wrong, and you never would. You had saved New Orleans from a bloodthirsty serial killer, and because of that, you believed that your actions had been justified.

"But let me work for you and help you with your dream. I could begin there, and one day, when I think I'm ready, I will tell you I'll resign, and you can enrol me in your program." 

The only time you would ever consider redemption was after you had killed Alastors demonic body, making sure that his soul would never return. Only when that monster was eradicated from every cosmic plane would you get on your knees and ask the heavens for forgiveness. 

Excited at the prospect of having another sinner join her cause, Charlie happily agreed to hire you as the hotel's PR specialist. And just like that, you had your way into the hotel and its inner workings. 

You and Charlie continued to talk enthusiastically about the hotel and the people who lived there throughout the event. Both of you had decided to move to the balcony that stretched around the whole apartment, looking out over the city. The red night sky was devoid of stars but illuminated by the divine light from the gate to heaven. It was a beautiful mockery of your hellish existence, a constant reminder of your wretched existence. 

While the night sky was starless, the twinkling lights of the city lit up the evening in a colourful display of technology and consumerism. Shouting sinners, car horns, and guns fiering could be heard in the distance. Prids every present ambience. 

Hell was truly beautiful in its own vile ways. 

"And then we have Vaggie; she's my girlfriend and is kind of in charge of the hotel's security. She will probably ask you some questions before you start working, but don't take it personally! We've just had some problems with other sinners before, but nothing serious," rambled Charlie, waving her hands around exuberantly so the content of her glass spilt over. She had not had one sip of the alcohol whilst you were almost finished with yours. 

"Alastor also stays at the hotel, but don't you worry! He has been trying to be helpful, even if his motives for why he is at the hotel are maybe not ... that wonderful." As she talked, you could see that Charlie grew increasingly uncertain when talking about the radio demon, and you wondered if she knew why he was there in the first place. You decided to ask her, making your voice meek, hoping the princess would interpret it as fear for the other demon. 

"Well, he says that he is bored and likes to see souls struggle to accomplish anything meaningful." 

That did sound a lot like the Alastor you had once known. Seems like Hell had not changed him one bit.

"But other than that, he's been pretty harmless!" 

Ha! That almost made you laugh. 

"Actually, I think he's here somewhere," remarked Charlie absentmindedly and turned around to look back into the apartment where everyone was talking more freely because of the alcohol. 

"What?!" you hissed before you could control yourself. Your whole body tensed up like a string on a bow. Charlie had, thankfully, not noticed your drastic change in emotions and continued talking.

"Yeah, he came with me since Vaggie couldn't. He left to talk to someone he knew, I think. I haven't seen him in a while, though."

It felt like your blood was boiling inside you. Every muscle was tense and ready to fight or flee. Your claws dug into the balcony railing, threatening to leave marks. 

"Oh no, wait, there he is!" exclaimed Charlie, calling the demon's name, who had just appeared by the glass door to the apartment. You turned around slowly and, for the first time in ages, came face to face with the monster that haunted your very existence. 

His demonic presence had not changed one bit since the last time you saw him all those years ago. Still the same tall freak with the ever-present grin you hated more than anything. Oh, how you yearned to erase that smile for good. 

His red eyes landed on you, and a shiver travelled up your spine, making your wings tense behind you. His gaze was soft, but there was a sharpness to them that you knew all too well. It was the same calculating gaze you had been so intrigued by and later come to hate. The calculating gaze of a killer. The same gaze that he had unknowingly taught you to make. 

His eyebrow lifted slightly as he looked at you, and you could feel your heartbeat buzzing in your ears. 

"Why, hello! I see that you have met Charlie. The name's Alastor; it's a pleasure to meet you." 

You felt like someone had pulled the rug from underneath you. The bastard did not even remember you!

The chock that incapacitated you took some time to shake off, but it took you long enough for both Charlie and Alastor to give you funny looks. It wasn't until you screamed at yourself in your own head to speak that you were able to croak out a greeting. 

He didn't even remember you.

Hmm, I wonder what consequences will come out of this~

Taglist: @martinys-world @tremendoushearttaco @fairyv-ice @azmosposts

[haine-kleine]

and now for something different: another thought piece on the ending.

if you really think about it, the setups for the villains by itself weren't bad, what made the ending bad was so random abandonment of those setups.

I'd go as far as saying the villains got the better end of the deal, writing wise. unlike the heroes, who had to be reduced to ooc or had their screen time almost completely cut to make the contradicting ending flow fast without stumbling against the actual characters, the League were in character until the very end, and then they just disappeared from the story. just compare Shouto barely appearing and for the most part just Standing There to Touya being allowed to stay bitter and express that to his family, telling Enji off and then growing enough to apologize to Shouto. compare Ochako's stepford smiler complex blowing up in her face, and her breakdown about Toga being glossed over, shifting the focus to the class shenanigans, showing her perfectly happy and smiling in every single appearance from then on to Spinner's rightful rage and grief over Shigaraki's death, calling Deku a murderer and never coming to forgive him or move on from what was done to him, to all of them.

the villains are allowed consistency that the heroes aren't. because to make the ending happen so quickly and for the ending's events to make sense, the characters need to be reshaped and mutate into completely different ones, or to disappear from the radar completely.

and yeah, it sucks that we are left to decode and finish the threads of the story Horikoshi had left for us on our own, but at least the wiggle room and a wide door of possibilities was left open for the villains. the heroes' conclusions were strictly established and pretending that this ending doesn't belong to a completely different story seems like a worse option.

say, Deku has been pushed along the way by the narrative to save Shigaraki for almost the entirety of the manga. it's not even his failure that breaks the story in half, it's him and every other character save for Spinner acting like they are fine with it. Izuku's acceptance of this outcome for Shigaraki before he is even gone reshapes him into a completely different character, one who was fine with passing Eri by and not organizing a whole operation to save the little girl who was set up as Shigaraki's foil.

Shigaraki however, remains a whole character true to himself. his goals of making his voice heard and saving his friends are unchanged. he didn't change his mind and remained committed to these goals, and even if he wasn't allowed to do that on-screen, that's what our literacy analysis and imagination are for. one thing he and Deku did successfully achieve was breaking him free of AFO's vice grip on his life, and for the rest, he has Kurogiri and the League. who are conveniently missing throughout the final chapter.

Spinner was suffering in the end because of Shigaraki and his other friends' loss. Toga had committed a heroic act and then was left by the heroes to die. Dabi was reunited with his family and despite getting everything he ever dreamed of from them, he is miserable and crying in the end. Mr Compress was imprisoned after sacrificing himself to save the League, similarly to how Kurogiri was. Kurogiri was freed by the League. his consciousness was damaged but he pulled himself together for the singular goal of saving Tomura, because his friends are waiting for him, because he was supposed to save these people and become their hero.

he was even given a tool to do that, a combination of OFA and Overhaul quirks. the boy who had killed his family by accident, with a five fingers touch, brainwashed to think he did that to punish them for rejecting him. that boy being freed from the man who has been grooming and manipulating him since he was 5, having the freedom to make his own decisions and saving the people he had welcomed into his life with that same five fingers touch. becoming the League of Villains' saviour.

[pleasantglitterflower]

The dark side of envy (Joe Burrow x Burrow!sister x Patrick Mahomes)

Tw: envy, hatred, anger, resentment, displays of narcissism and psychopathy

NCAA Championship 2017- Clemsom x Alabama - Tampa, Florida

Janine had just won the college football championship for the Alabama Crimson. It had been a fantastic season for the young wide receiver. She walked towards her parents with the trophy in her hands, all proud, seeing her brother in the middle of the way, all smiles with open arms to welcome her.

-Jan, I can't believe it, I'm so happy for you, you're a champion. - Joe tries to hug her, but she walks right past him, pushing her arm hard against his chest.

-Get out of here, you little shit. - She strode towards her parents.

Joe stood there, embarrassed and not knowing what to do.

-Oh my God, daughter, I'm so proud, you won the college championship. - Her mother shakes her hard, before she and her father give her a triple hug.

-Now that we have a champion, next year we'll all be in the stands, cheering for Joseph. - She just forced a smile at her father's comment.

CURRENT DAYS

A lot has happened between Janine and Joe, her twin brother, but of all these many things, the most important one, without a doubt, was his effort to be with his sister, to show her that he loves her and wants to be part of her life.

Janine, on the other hand, is the kind of person who, when she realizes she is good at something, uses it to bring everyone down to earth.She has become the most poisonous and manipulative person Joe has ever met in his life and she loves being like that, the kind of unbearable person who only shows herself like that when everyone around her is already tied down enough to her and her ego.

Her words at first made him laugh, his mother would say “It’s just her way”, “She loves you”, “You are siblings, she would never hate you”.

But it’s not quite like that.Janine has never been able to see anyone being better than her and when she does, it’s better that that person is someone she really loves.

Like her husband Patrick.

Someone who is hard to overcome, hard to shake, hard to deal with and hard to hate.

She knew she couldn't compete with him, so why not combine business with pleasure?

Mahomes fell in love with her strength, her desire to be the best in everything she does and the way she is with her family.

At least until they get married.

-We finally have someone we can proudly call a quarterback- She boasts, still wearing a veil, with a glass of champagne in her hands, giving her husband a peck on the lips, who laughs awkwardly.

Joe, sitting at the table with his parents, heard it and started laughing, hoping it was just a joke, but it wasn't. Janine hates him.

As the years went by, the annoyance became more and more explicit at family dinners, making birthdays, the rare holidays they could spend together, a living hell for his parents, siblings, nephews, and husband, for everyone except Janine, who enjoys watching her brother with his head down, without the courage to retaliate, because he wouldn't be able to say a single word that he knew would hurt her, out of respect for his sister and love.

Actually, Joe never understood what love in a family is. Some people are easily lovable, while others, like Janine, even though he had more reasons to hate them, just thinking about it made him feel incredibly guilty and his conscience weighed on him. She was his sister and all she had to do was receive her love, no matter how much it cost him.

-You need to listen to this new Kendrick Lamar song, this guy never tires of changing the rap industry- Joe says, ecstatic as always, when the subject is his favorite genre.

-You again with that low-level and derogatory noise, please improve. Although what could I expect from you, right Joseph- His smile died and so did the conversation and smiles at the table.

-Jan please, you are married to a black man, you know better than anyone how important this song is for the whole society, that the lyrics talk about real problems, not stupid love affairs- He tries to keep the conversation going.

-Any John Lennon song already does the job, we are in the 21st century, no one is an idiot- she replied.

Seeing Patrick uncomfortable, she sat down next to him with her plate made, now she would need to disguise the situation.

-But of course if Patrick likes it I respect it, especially because he listens to artists and not gangsters.

They weren't just arguing about music.

-I've been thinking about maybe finishing my studies, maybe changing fields, it might be good for the future- Joe confessed to Jamie, his older brother.

-Joe, you're almost 30, do you really think now is the time to think about that? You wanted to waste your time with these ridiculous courses, you don't even have enough intellect to do anything else- Janine makes the comment. Dan, the middle brother, immediately snorts.

-You talk as if you were a respected journalist, when all you do is spread fake news on social media, what kind of intellect do you have, Janine Burrow? It's because of people like you that others hate journalists. Give us a break, girl- The brother stomped off.

-Far be it from me to be bored enough to judge other people's lives, especially since I have real problems to think about, but it's very interesting how you think that finance is less important than marketing. Don't forget that your beloved husband didn't graduate, but your brother has a master's degree, something that not even you have. - It was Jamie's turn to throw it in her face.

-I think it's better to focus on your problems, Jamie, and go pay your mortgage. - The brother's hatred is visible, from the looks on his face they would easily kill each other right there, in the Burrow family's living room.

But nothing in the world moved Joe more than when she decided to criticize the only thing that Joe was most proud of in the world, not a football trophy or a degree, but his foundation.

A foundation he wanted the whole family to be a part of and help out equally, something that would be something from his family to the others, but someone refused to be a part of it.

-Joseph, I've been thinking, I want to make a photo album for the foundation of all these moments we've spent together and most of all, it would be really cool if we had an annual photo with whoever wanted to participate, to show how many lives we've touched, it would be really cool- Robin focuses partly on the Thanksgiving pie and partly on what the Burrow siblings are doing in the kitchen, to make sure nothing gets out of hand.

-I was thinking about doing some TV commercials with the kids to try to get more visibility and donors. With that, I believe we could extend the donations to the state. I feel really bad about only being able to help our hometown. I even spoke to Jamie and he loved the idea. - Joe explained, trying not to get dirty with all the seasonings he puts in his food.

-It will be really good. We can see which kids feel comfortable speaking out, if their parents allow them to participate, and then we can put it on TV. If the feedback is positive, we can even get support from interested companies. - The older brother explained to Robin, who agreed excitedly.

-Doing charity and advertising? If you want to be seen so much, put a watermelon on your head and go naked in the street. It had to be Joseph's idea. He's trying to buy sainthood. If you show charity to everyone, it's better not to do it. - Janine hurt him in the worst way.

-That way we'll get more donors, more interested people who will help. - He tried to explain.

-I have projects like that and I don't need anyone to know when I make deals with other people, I also don't need anyone to know, I just go there and ask them to see the project and help. You're ridiculous, you only think about fame, did you know that I even have a project with the NFL itself? - She boasts.

The silence in the kitchen takes over.

-I encourage girls to dream and maybe make it to the NFL - she was soon interrupted by Jamie.

-Do you know what your mistake was Robin? Joseph not being Josephine, because she would beat Janine to a pulp - Jamie leaves the plate she is making, going to the sink to wash his hands.

-Or rather, my intellect isn't that bad, it's your fault, dad, because the man is the one who defines sex. Besides, it's your fault that this girl is like this, because you didn't raise her right, you just did everything she told you to do, you two are wimps and now we have to put up with this bitch talking shit - Jamie leaves in a hurry with Jim, his father, calling him. 

-Don't beg me to come back, I'm almost 50 years old, I don't need this shit, I'm going back to my family who are saner - He shouted, leaving the house. 

-Janine, this behavior is unacceptable and you know it - Robin tries to correct her daughter. 

Although Jamie always gets on her case about what she does to Joe, he is her favorite brother and is always around, because for some reason the anger goes away. 

For this very reason, Joe always felt forced to do the same, but for Jamie, who was never offended, it was easy to forgive. 

And when her mother got stressed about the situation and called her to talk and take it easy on Joe, she gives her best acting.

-Joseph has always been the favorite, you always loved him more than me, because I'm a girl, you always celebrated everything he does and never cared about what I do- She opened his mouth and started to cry.

Jim dried her face, which began to burn, and when he felt his chest tighten, seeing his little daughter sad, he quickly went to her and hugged her tightly, while Robin remained firm.

-You know better than anyone that we always did everything equally for both of us. When you won the NCAA, we threw a party and kept Joe hopeful that his ring would arrive, and when he won, we threw a party and kept you hopeful that one day greater victories would come. So swallow your tears, because you have nothing to complain about us, girl, not in that sense, we always did everything equally.

But none of that is enough to stop her.

Patrick discovered a blog years ago, something very common until he was a teenager, where there was always some special subject for the author that it addressed, until it was replaced by long videos on platforms with the same style. But the more time passed, the more he spent with Janine and returned to the blog, the stranger everything became.

Investigating was not enough, she is his wife and knows her well, but he does not have the courage to ask if she had a blog when she was a teenager.At least until the day came to clean the garage, she had to get everything there in time, so why not during the holidays?

He took down the boxes, got ladders and a bench to tidy up the place and take a break from her pink world, it seemed like a good thing.Among the dolls, books, photographs, old telephones studded with crystals, making him laugh at the fashion of the time and also at imagining her at that age, he found an old diary with a broken padlock.

He opened it, imagining that they were drawings, because he himself loved to draw, but showing them to anyone would only be embarrassing. Even among the various scribbled pages, he found some rants about his family, very similar to the ones on the blog, nothing too different from what she talks about every day, so he wasn't too worried.

Until he saw one reference in particular, which left no doubt.

“Just one”

That's what the girl on the blog always said, because according to her, she wished she had been the only one born on that December 10, 1996.

Patrick didn't even blink, everything seemed to stop around him. It couldn't really be her, his wife saying those things about her family on the internet, for everyone to see, as much as he hoped to know that it really is, it's too heavy for him.

She didn't see when he came to her in the living room, she just threw the notebook for her to catch and by the look on her face, she knew exactly what it meant.

-I already know about the shit you did- He said loudly, catching her attention.

-That's good then- She let the notebook fall on the couch and went back to looking at the phone.

-If you still want to live in this house, be my wife and have the slightest bit of my respect, find a way to fix this situation, because if this becomes public, it won't be very good, besides, everything you wrote about them is disgusting and knowing them Janine, I know it's a lie - Mahomes yelled 

-Of course it's a lie, Joseph is too soft, he would never be able to fight back against me, but it made everything much more fun- She couldn't stop laughing.

Patrick stares at her seriously, not believing what he heard, and then she finally sees that he is really angry.

-And what are you talking about me? What did you lie about me to people or, I don't know, on some fake login somewhere? Fix this or this marriage ends here. - His ultimatum came out, leaving her alone in the living room with many worries, but not about feelings or what she did, but about being discovered and what she would do.

She took the diary and threw it in the trash can on the street, calmly returned to her house, not imagining that there would be a photographer there at that moment, wanting to see the facade of the house, after the recent renovation.

Unfortunately for her, he waited for her to come in and stop the movement at the door, to hang on the trash and pick it up, which for him at one moment seemed crazy, soon became true, since when he opened it, he found something too heavy and soon saw the same thing as Patrick.

Patrick was soon asked at the press conference.

Chaos ensued.

The Mahomes family was shocked, since they had no suspicions about this evil and dark side of Janine.

The Burrow family was devastated, due to so much exposure, each one of them was exposed there in an almost indiscreet way, with only their identities hidden.

Anyone who knew Janine and the way she talks about them would know it was her, because she talks about many things that happened, but also invents many others to make herself look poor.

Anyone who only knew the Burrow family would be suspicious, but would never have guessed that Janine would do this.

Joe was seen by Ja'marr, crying in the training center, hiding, afraid of being found, wondering what bad thing he did in his life for his sister to hate him so much.

Yes, hate.

As she herself writes in a post that was rescued, "If I had known that my brother would be so unbearable, I would have found a way to suffocate him with the umbilical cord", and she has often admitted in other posts that she planned different ways to kill Joe, whether by putting poison in his food, trying to asphyxiate him while he was sleeping, or even contacting hardcore serial killers from Athens to order the crime, but according to her, she ended up giving up because she wanted more years to make his life hell.

Joe is devastated, hurt, hurt, sad, it's as if someone had broken both his legs, both his arms and kicked him in the face, no injury and no defeat would hurt more than that.

In another state at the training press conference.

-Janine, what do you have to say about the blog? Do you regret it? Have you apologized to your family and especially to Joe? - A reporter asks.

-I was just a teenager, a child, too immature, it was just a joke, nothing major and they know it. - Her evasive answer and psychotic smile after answering the question shocked everyone. The apathy and coldness in Janine's eyes, and her frightening psychopathic smile put a warning sign in everyone present in that press conference room. They didn't need to be experts in psychology to realize that they were in front of a pathological narcissist with psychopathic traits.

Patrick began to suffer the consequences, as if he himself had created that blog.

-If Patrick doesn't come out and apologize, it will only seem like he is in agreement with all of this and since she is his wife, it is very clear that yes, he is in agreement. How can someone marry someone who doesn't respect their own family? If he didn't know before, now he does. What does she say about him without him knowing? - One of the commentators asked indignantly.

-Exactly, he has to speak up.

-Yes, he does, many sponsors won’t agree with that - another added.

-What scares me the most is that Patrick and Janine have a daughter together, what kind of education is this child receiving? Poor child - another commenter laments

That weighed on Patrick's conscience, the consequences of what he didn't do could arise,that's when he washed his face and made a video tagging the entire Burrow family, except Janine.

'I would like to publicly apologize to everyone in my wife's family.

Above all, I would like to say that I found out about this a few days ago and that I do not condone it, nor have I ever condone it. I have already asked her to do the same and I am waiting for it to happen and, like everyone else, I know very well that this cannot happen at home, it must happen publicly, since she had the courage to expose the family publicly in so many ways, for so many years. I can only regret that this happened. I love each and every one of this family and they are my family, especially you Joe, who shares the same profession and who is so young and talented, you have always had and will always have my respect and affection. You are family to me, you are a brother, I am sorry for those hurtful things you read, things your sister said about you'

The video was finished and posted, Patrick was more than ecstatic with everything he read.

When Janine saw it, she immediately appeared behind him, ready to confront him.

-My video, which I had no obligation to post, is ready, now please, have enough courage, the same courage you had to mistreat your brother, and do the same Janine and personally apologize to your family and Joseph or, if it's better, pack your bags and leave - He ordered, going up the stairs without even looking at her face.

She hugged her brother in a careless way, while he, imagining that she was being truthful, held her tightly, letting the tears wet her shoulder, who soon grimaced without anyone seeing.

-I'm sorry for everything, I was just an immature and idiot, who didn't know what I was saying, you know I love you very much Joe - She said it out loud very easily.

When her brother released her and she thanked him for it, she had to put on a fake expression of sadness, which worked well.

Peace was established between the Burrow’s, at least that's what everyone thought, since now she had other ways to transfer her anger towards Joe, a new diary, and Janine, with her traditional psychopathic smile, started writing again.

[purrfectly-nina]

IN SEMI-DEFENSE OF JACKSON <3

Jackson hate is a little forced imo cause he’s really just a teenage boy battling depression and grief and is constantly stressed and anxious about things being out of his control for really no reason. Like you have to remember Jackson has known these people for only a couple of months at this point and they bullied him and Exer made his life shit for a good bit of it 😭 now I love Exer that’s my princess and Jackson has made mistakes but it’s what makes him an interesting and dynamic character, people complain all the time that Jackson is boring and one note but he’s really not if you pay attention to his flaws as character traits and not just “oh Jackson here we go again 🙄”

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For just season 3 stuff so far he’s kept 1. leaving therapy a secret from Pam 2. Not telling anyone about the diary and Used the diary to manipulate Exer (both consciously and unconsciously) and 3. Spent time with the reds as a form of getting information and its kinda manipulation tbh so I just wanted to give my 2 cents on it in defense and criticism of Jackson cause he’s paralleling Exer in a lot of ways and it’s unfair that he gets shit on so much when Exer is loved and praised by the fandom (again Exer is my favourite character).

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1. Leaving therapy a secret from Pam is not a good thing Jackson is doing, he shouldn’t have kept it from her and he shouldn’t have lied that it wasn’t that big of a deal because a big theme in this comic is that keeping secrets and lying really hurts people and relationships and you need to be open and honest with those you love. That being said it’s a really hard subject that he’s still getting over himself, therapy was a safe space for him where he was finally in control and was heard not just listened to. He’s still getting over this and he could barely even talk to Harry for weeks without feeling horrible so yea it’s a really troubling thing for him to think about. He told the detention kids because sometimes it’s easier to be open with friends who get the situation than your girlfriend who you don’t want to disappoint because she was so happy you were getting better and how do you tell her your world fell apart all over again and you’re scared. I’m not saying this excuses his actions I just think there needs to be a bit more understanding here, Jackson should have told her sooner and tell her that he’s not happy about it but he’s also not ready to talk about it just yet, it’ll be good for him to open up to Pam more instead of trying to keep up an illusion that he’s doing great but it’s a hard thing to shake.

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2. Telling anyone about the Diary, especially Exer is not fucking easy at all. Some of you are making it sound like if he just told them everything would go smoothly and well and that he’s the bad guy for keeping it hidden. So go on and tell me how exactly you’d tell the person who bullied you over petty reasons that you might have accidentally manipulated and fabricated their feelings and that you’re the reason he apologized, you’re the reason he got a job and started over, you’re the reason he confessed as is dating his boyfriend and that none of it is real and that you did it all by accident. Because that’s exactly what Jackson thinks he did, while I don’t agree with Jackson’s theory he’s convinced of it himself. For all Jackson knows Exer really is that prick back in season 1 and the only reason he changed is cause he wrote it down. That’s a lot of weight on your shoulders especially the whole romance thing I mean Jackson wholeheartedly thinks he accidentally manipulated Exer into falling in love with someone and that’s a very heavy burden to carry cause wtf do you do with that as a 17 y/o depressed child. Not to mention that the Diary is his therapy journal so that’s his one healthy outlet destroyed and he feels guilty about ever coping using it so that only fuels his self hatred and mental health issues. All of this without mentioning he’s still grieving over his mother who gave him the damn thing and now he can’t even have that once connection he has with her because of course it’s tied to Exer the person who’s made his life so difficult up till now. NOW!! Pause, this does not excuse his actions but it does explain them, Jackson is not in the right here because at the end of the day he does need to talk to Ex about it because, accident or not, he’s manipulating him and he needs to know. It’s actually incredibly interesting how much this parallels to season 1 Exer, Exer who started purposely using his magic to cause harm and then slowly losing control and doing it by accident (all while not telling Jackson he has magic which made it hurt so much more) versus Jackson’s harm being on accident at first but now he’s experimenting and knowingly causing changes to Exer. This is a big flaw of Jackson’s, he wants to understand before he takes action but only in ways that benefit him. He wanted to understand Exer’s magic before he told Pam and now he wants to understand his own before he tells anyone and we all saw how that turned out with Pam and the others in season 1/2 so Jack’s definitely going to learn his lesson. Remember that if Exer got that mad cause he was jealous over petty things how do you think Jackson, who thinks he’s one of the only reason Exer became nice, thinks Exer is gonna react to something as big as this!!

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3. This is a bad thing aaallll around and Jackson needs to stop 😭!!! Jackson hanging out with the reds just because he wants to study Exer is not a good thing but it’s an interesting character flaw!! This goes back to what I was saying earlier, he wants to know and understand and will fixate on it so bad he neglects the consequences. Not only is he harming the reds by manipulating them into thinking he cares and is friends with them he’s also really hurting himself. As much as I would love for them all to be friends again, Jackson just isn’t in that headspace right now where he can. He’s so obsessed with the magic and how it’s affected him that he can’t get over the bullying, he can’t get over how Exer used his magic to hurt him, he can’t get over him hurting Pam, he can’t accept the many apologies, he hasn’t even accepted that Exer wasn’t in control all the time. He just can’t move on. He needs to move on and not because what happened wasn’t hurtful and is all in the past now (it’s been like 2 months since Halloween mind you) but because he needs to let go and prioritize himself instead of holding onto all this anger. He’s not just an asshole who can’t get over being bullied (which like even if he was that’s valid to a degree), he’s so obsessed with regaining control of his life and understanding what the fuck is going on that he’s actively choosing to hurt himself to hang out with people he doesn’t like. He doesn’t have to be their friends and he doesn’t have to forgive them, yes they’ve gotten better and yes they’re sorry but tbh if my bullies apologized and everything I would not forgive them and I’d certainly not be friends with them. They just need to go their separate ways until Jackson knows what he wants. But it’s hard. Being 17 and struggling with mental health (IN THE 80s!!) is very very hard and that’s before you even begin with the magic shit so cut him some slack.

Anyways this was so long and rambley I’m sorry, I just don’t love the Jackson hate I see when he and Exer are so similar but he doesn’t get the grace of being adored and pawed at. Do I love Jackson? Not as much as I do Exer but I get him, I get being a teen trying to save myself while everything around me keeps trying to push me down so I respond in anger and I’m so over everyone being so mean to him. I could go on for ages and make more points but that’s it for now so!!!! Anyways support Paola on patreon 🩷🩷🩷

[snarkylinda]

And when dawn came

I decided to take a shot at @imagining-in-the-margins's New Beginnings writing challenge loosely based around the "characters are getting the hang of being a new parent prompt"; and I say loseely because it's more about the before with a little bit of after sparkled on it lmao anyways I hope y'all like this cause I am new at writing challenges. ❤️

Summary: Spencer calls Emily the night that Cat has the baby he decided to adopt.

Content Warning: discussions of PTSD and anxiety caused by it, general mental instability, mention of sexual assault (the possibility, but it didn't happen), mention of the foster system. Please tell me if I miss anything ❤️

Word Count: 4.4k

AO3 ver.

It was a stormy night when Emily received the call she had been expecting for a while- just for the reasons she would have never imagined.

“Emily” Spencer’s voice was muffled- shaky and slightly out of breath. But oddly firm. He sounded like a man on a mission in the middle of a tropical storm- which he might as well be considering the weather and the fact that he was calling from a payphone. Outside.

“Spence, what the hell-“ Her eyes found her bedside clock- 1 a.m “Why are you calling this? Screw that- why are you outside at this hour?!” She poured all of the annoyance she could muster at her tone but the thinly veiled concern was creeping in without her permission. Emily hated to admit it, but the absolute trust she had in Spencer being able to take care of himself had evaporated the moment Mexico happened. Even before that, there was this lingering, collective fear that the resident genius would succumb to either his drug of choice or a psychotic episode…maybe both, and all the indications they would have of it would be a phone call- either by himself done in a moment of desperate clarity or by an EMT.

The older he got thought, the more those not totally unfounded fears were allowed to blur in as one of the many possible horrible things that could happen to either of them in or out of the job….

And then Mexico happened. And he was high again. And then Millburn happened. And Emily started to question every day if his pysche would truly survive unscathed….

Survive it did- unscathed? Well…. It had been a little over 6 months since his release, about 4 since he was reinstated at the team, and there has yet to be a single day where Emily didn’t see him zooming out on his paperwork or constantly watching over his shoulder- and everyone on the team, even the most recent additions, were very aware of why he took so many “bathroom breaks” lately.

To fall apart in private.

So now, as Emily heard the rapid breathing on the other side of the phone, along with the occasional sniff, she started to seriously consider calling 9-1-1. Suddenly, sleep was no longer of importance “Hey, what is wrong? Take a deep breath, and tell me what happened.”

“I need your help with something.” Came from the other side, firmer than she would have expected too, but she could already see him in her mind eye, trying to control an upcoming anxiety attack with practiced self-soothing techniques that are subtle enough for the untrained eye to not really notice and for the rest of the team to pretend they don’t see it.

“Ok.” Emily’s response was sharp and poignant. She needed to know why the hell her clearly mentally unstable friend’s deal was, immediately, but knew better than to make Spencer feel cornered, so she waited for him to put his racing thoughts in order.

At long last, he did- but it wasn’t what she was expecting to hear- not tonight, not in a millon years.

“Cat entered labor an hour ago, I want to be there. Would you come with me?”

Silence.

And then….

“What?” It wasn’t the most articulate response ever but in her defense, it was 1 am and her best friend was losing his mind.

Or already lost it.

“She made Lionel Wilkins impregnate her 8 months ago- and uh- pretended it was mine, to manipulate me. Remember?” How could Emily forget? Sure, what happened immediately after was an even bigger shock to her personally, and even to the whole team, but even then there was this little, quilty voice at the back of their heads that resonated with how absolutely messed up everything was before that. How messed up everything was.

´To manipulate me´

Was it working?

“Emily?”

“How do you know she is going into labor, Spencer?” Her voice was tight, clipped. She was doing everything in her power to keep the accusatory tone off, but it was hard. She knew Spencer, she knew he had this weird obsession with knowing everything and anything was beyond simple scientific curiosity-

It was a survival instinct.

So him keeping taps on Cat Adams wasn’t a surprise- if not a bit…. hypervigilantly…

“I….asked Garcia to keep tabs on her in case she tried anything or….if she went into labor.”

If, not when. Everyone had assumed she would get rid of the fetus shortly after her plan backfired.

“Spence-“

“It’s not- it’s not obsession Emily, I just needed to know- I need to know what happened to me, and why, you know this.” There it was, that spike of defensiveness she had grown to know so well. If albeit, a bit less fiery and more….drained. Exhausted. And it wasn’t because of the obvious sleepless nights either.

“A sadistic bitch got obsessed with you and she got the perfect chance to pull a whole scheme, but we defeated her. That is everything there is to it.”

“You know is not.”

“This not about her Em, it’s about….” A pause “We never thought she would actually have the baby”

“Sounds to me like you had thought about it.” Emily sighed, rubbing her forehead. J.J. told her she had the suspicion that, even though the unborn baby was -thankfully- not related to Spencer, he wouldn’t be apathetic towards it when -if- it was born, regardless of the fact he would rather do anything else than see Catherine again.

“…Yes.”  He admitted, knowing that doing laps around the subject would help nobody. Emily had already figured him out, anyways “And my mind is made- don’t try to change it, please. I made this decision months ago….I had some time to think.”  It’s amazing how much free time the average person could have when they skip the whole sleeping thing as much as humanly possible.

“What bureaucratic bullshit do you want me to brush over?” she quipped, her phone now resting between her ear and shoulder as she put her coat on. A scoff at the other side made her lips curl up a bit- it wasn’t quite a smile, not yet, but her features and shoulders relaxed sightly; anything was better than hearing her best friend fighting tears- she had more than enough of that forged at her memory already.

“Don’t worry, this is completely legal-…ish. Cat didn’t have any known family that would accept and the social worker I spoke to would rather not bring a baby with that background to the foster system- wouldn’t be the easiest to get adopted. So I just had to pass a psychological test-“ That he cheated on “-an home inspection-“ once the security tape was removed and the blood was cleaned from his floor “-and the fact that I am currently jobless didn’t faze her as much after I showed her a mail of Yale and Harvard fighting for my love.”

Emily did laugh at that, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she allowed herself to truly take in the implications of…everything, especially the last bit.

As right now, Spencer was no longer her subordinate; her colleague.

Her mind flashed to a conversation she had with him a lifetime ago, over the phone just like now, when the distance between them was way wider than just a couple of streets. When she had tried -and failed- to convince him to get out of his self-imposed insolation, to let their friends in a way she couldn’t be, since her spot in London.

”I loved her Em, I know- I know it wasn’t conventional-“

 “That doesn’t matter, ok Spence? What matters is how she made you feel- God, I am so sorry…”

“You asked me…..if I wanted to have children. When J.J was expecting Henry”

“Yeah, I remember that-“

“I did. I would have traded this job in a second if I had the chance. Maybe settled down, teaching- I am not- I am not the best public speaker but….I would have liked to be there for them”

“You still can.”

“No, I can’t. That fantasy died with her”

Emily remembered the cheer panic -not unlike tonight’s- she felt the moment the other line went dead after that statement, sending their friends a collective text to keep her tabbed, and being so relieved when Penelope texted that Spencer was not longer locking them out of his trashed apartment and avoiding any and all communication after two long weeks of it.

She didn’t tell anyone of their conversation- she knew he was in a bad state of mind to open up like that to her, and respected his wish for privacy, although heavily encouraged to talk to the others about the grief and quilt that still kept his shattered heart onto a tight grip. Ironically enough, the only thing that kept the pieces together.

5 years later, a different kind of grief clenched it and it wasn’t doing a very good job as some bits had escaped their clutch and stabbed his insides at the regular But at long last, she could see something else putting little band-aids over the cuts-

Hope.

“So you don’t need me pressuring whatever social worker steps in the way? Where is the fun at that.” Emily finally spoke, wiping eyes that were becoming mistier by the second “Might I ask why I need to be the one to get out of bed in the middle of the night? J.J is the one that awoke your maternal instincts.” She was already inside of her car.

“For one, I knew you didn’t have company-“ Ok, rude. And the worst part is that he was right… “-and I thought you would like to meet your goddaughter first.”

Oh, she was on full crying now, cool. “What?”

“Surprised?” His smile was so wide and bright it could be heard through the phone.

“Yeah! I mean- you are the boys’s godfather so I thought that J.J- or maybe Penelope since you guys ´co-godparent´- and you met them first and had known them for the longest so I thought-“ She trailed off, overcome with emotion and grateful that the streets were empty. Emily was sure that having this many overwhelmed feelings at once while driving was some kind of street safety hazard.

“Well- I thought about that as well, I truly didn’t want to let anyone out- so I asked Morgan for advice and-“

“Hold on, Derek already knows you are taking Cat’s baby? I already know he had thoughts about it.” After weeks of prodding, Spencer had confessed that even though he felt immensely relieved that Lindsay didn’t actually assault him…he still felt extremely violated. Could feel Cat’s unwanted hands on his torso as she took away his gun out of his waistband in their first meeting, her whole weight as she sat on his lap in that interrogation room, knowing that pushing her off could get his mother killed-

And the knowledge that, if Cat had yet to full-take his body, it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, but because physically she was unable to.

He had ended up confessing everything to the man who he knew would understand this better than anyone else over the phone after throwing every meal he had ever gotten out, not even caring over the fact he was openly sobbing over the bullpen’s toilet, nor the fact that  Derek was hearing everything and more over the phone, nor the fact that Emily was witnessing it from her spot by his side as she awkwardly rubbed his back- he had been so absolutely out of it she remembers the first time he said after -literally and figuratively- spilling his guts out was asking what she was doing on the men’s bathroom. Truly someone who should be trusted with two guns.

Needless to say, Cat wasn’t someone Derek held in high esteem.

“Of course he did- but he respected and supported my wishes” A pause “After I told him he would be the godfather- anyways, he told me that when thinking of who should have become Hank's godparents he thought of who, and I quote "saved his ass in more than one occasion and would bail him out of jail if the time came" so yeah, I thought it was a good enough method so- yeah, you quite literally bailed me out of jail so- J.J and Penelope will understand.”

Oh, he took the last part literally.  “Oh my God, I will co-godparent with Morgan- if anything happens to you I will move to Chicago and raise baby Reid with them. I can already see the shenanigans inssuing”  Emily’s sarcastic tone didn’t match her bright, wet eyes nor the wide smile on her face; somehow, she knew Spencer looked about the same on the other side of the call.

"Why are you writing me off so fast?" Spencer shook his head, his wet locks all over his eyes and while that would normally bother him, his mind was too occupied with the possibilities- for the first time in months, he had his sight in the future instead of dreading it or downright writing it off. The panic his shell-shocked soul went through when he heard the name of his worst most recent nightmare over the phone was slowly turning into a different kind of panic. He knew he wasn't ready to face her again, not yet. The adrenaline that had given him the strength to do so six months ago had faded entirely and left an even rawer open wound.  

He knew he would see her again- now a part of her was part of him, it was unavoidable- but he would rather wait a little for the flesh wound to, at very least, grow a scalp.

"You feeling ok?" Emily had to ask once the amicable, unstable banter and watery laughter had died down to a weary silence. 

"Overwhelmed I guess.... I just can't believe I am doing this.... it is bad I can't wait to snatch a newborn out of her mother's arms? Hell, she won't ever get to hold her- I spoke to the nurse of her....past, and now that she knows I will be the one to take her baby, well...."

"She can hurt her to get to you. You made the right call, Spencer" Emily murmured, turning the wheel as her eyes caught onto the lone figure of her best friend, bending over a payphone way too small for him. She was thankful she brought a towel with her- the alleged genius was soaking. And shivering. Though she had her doubts that the reason behind his visible quivering was just the cold. As she opened the door and gave him the biggest smile she could muster, she couldn't help the excitement that slowly blossomed in her gut. "Come on, genius. Let's meet my goddaughter."

_____

The towel was functioning like a shock blanket at this point. A soft layer of protection and comfort that covered a very anxious Spencer's shoulders as he had his eyes glued to his shaking, fidgeting hands. Emily reentered the waiting room carrying their second batch of coffees, and sighted as she noticed the way he frantically looked over his shoulder before restarting his staring competition with the floor. She had been worried Cat wasn't the only trigger pulling at his unstable pysche.

They were in the heart of a federal prison, mere meters away from the actual cells.

She was sure Spencer was wearing a tie before she left.

"I brought you decaf- you are already anxious enough." She placed his cup by his side, earning a scoff.

"You know caffeine has no effect on me anymore"

"Why did you drink our entire budget on longer cases, then?"

"Placebo effect." Spencer shrugged, but took a sip of his very boring drink anyways. His eyes were fixated on his cup as he spoke again "Did they tell you anything?"

Emily bit her lower lip, her hands tightening around her own cooling beverage. She had used the excuse of searching for coffee to have an actual glimpse of what was happening in the room next to them- the birth itself was fairly standard considering the circumstances. The only thing that stood up to her was what she couldn't tell Spencer-

Catherine, despite the pain and exertion of labor, was smirking the moment she noticed Emily's presence.

"Tell him I said hi", she had mouthed between contractions.

"It....might take a bit more. She is not fully dilated yet" Was what Emily said. 

"Oh, ok...." was Spencer's reply. Emily had worded her response as a carefully planted trigger for a long-winded rant about anything and everything about the process of giving birth- and yet, here he was, a ball of nerves and what she could deduce was the start of acute depression. It was easier to see when they weren't in the middle of a crisis.

It was truly starting to settle in that on Monday, his desk would be empty.

"I am sorry for...not telling you earlier. I know you'll have a lot to do, finding my replacement-"

At that, Emily had to snort "As if I could ever find anyone that could replace you regardless. But I agree it would have been nice to be prepared. We could have thrown a goodbye party- we still will by the way."

"That sounds nice" The corners of his mouth twitched- it wasn't quite a smile, but close enough. "I'll still stay here, by the way. Mom is adapting well to the new center she is and, well, um-" His voice cracked a bit at the last bit "I don't want to be away from you guys- even if we won't see each other nearly as much."

"Yeah... yeah... you know what, Spence?" At that, he turned toward her, eyebrows raised in a silent question. "I am proud of you."

"Even when I dragged you out of bed at 1:20 a.m because I wanted to take in my worst nightmare's daughter but couldn't go the full route without a nervous breakdown?" His quip came out more snappy than he wanted it to but he couldn't help it- the last time Emily said that was the last day he had as a free, mentally sound-ish man. Spencer didn't believe in bad luck- but he sure did believe in triggers, and even after tossing his tie off he still felt suffocated so it wasn't very appreciated.

Emily, however, was not even fazed by the outburst. She was expecting it. "I am serious, Spencer. You are doing something that takes a tremendous amount of strength. And the fact you called me because you knew you needed help, well, you are the one with the Eidetic Memory, fill in the blanks- and don't focus on the after, just the fact"

"It takes a tremendous amount of strength to care for family, and even more to ask for help."

Family.

"Oh my God...." Finally, after hours of trying to not break -too much- Spencer couldn't suppress the tears that built in his eyes already reddened eyes as the realization of why he was here, why he dragged his friend out of bed, why everything felt like too damn much-

He was going to become a father.

He had been thinking about this for months- he ever had a little room ready for the newborn, but he had been told to keep his expectations low. That this still was a fetus growing in a high-security prison, he of all people was acutely aware of everything that could go wrong in there, his ribs still ached from the times he was used as a punching bag.

And yet, here they were. 

"Yes, oh my God indeed" Emily chuckled, her own eyes far from wet for the second, but without a doubt, not the last time of the night as she grabbed Spencer hands shaking and held them in hers, letting him lay his head on her shoulders as a shockwave of awe, expectation, anxiety and joy filled his quivering form.

That was how the nurse greeted them a couple of hours later, a bright smile on her face. 

Phoebe Diana Reid was born on November 4th, 2018. 7:32 a.m. She weighed 6 pounds. 

She was absolutely perfect.

So perfect, in fact, that her adopted father had surprised his best friend by letting her mother see her before they left the prison. 

For a split second, he saw something in Cat's eyes- something akin to longing.

For a split second, he felt something akin to pity.

"Don't worry... I'll do my best so she doesn't end up like you."

"I am sure you will, Spencie, I am sure you will."

That was the last time they saw each other. 

_____

Emily decided to visit her ex-subordinate for the first time since they came back with little Phoebe. It has been a few busy months for the BAU- Spencer Reid's absence was more felt than ever, its permanency slowly sinking in. It was depressing to see his empty desk every morning, but they all knew it was for the better.

Spencer messaged them every day anyway. His aversion to technology pushed to the back when it came to showing them the very important moment of Phoeby raising her head, along with three paraphrases explaining why it mattered.

 Neither of them complained, she truly was adorable and his disjointed ramblings could be summarized as "look at my baby right now, she is awesome."

Emily shook her head at the latest pic he sent- it was of Phoebe laying on a fluffy, blue blanket -a present from J.J- next to her father as he was re-organizing the newest bookshelf in his room, filled with all sorts of fairytales and other children books for the infant that didn't even know of her own existence- lucky her.

 "Spence? It's me, Emily. Stop planning for Phoebe's future in Cambridge and open the door." 

Soon enough she heard the clicking behind all the chains that had to be undone to enter the Reid household and sighted. That was...another thing.

Before prison, Spencer only felt that he needed his gun in the field, when he wanted to make himself useful... after it, it had become a compulsive need to keep himself safe, to have some semblance of control in his life. That was how one service weapon became two. And now that he was no longer in law enforcement the two became zero. With nothing to protect his newborn but his wit and the closest blunt object he could get a hold of, and lingering PSDT, his door was now filled with all sorts of lockers and blockers that not even a forceful tackle could bug. A special present from Derek.

Whenever it was to appease Spencer's paranoia or his own it was a mystery, but everyone seemed happy regardless. 

Finally, the fire hazard opened as Spencer's big, exhausted eyes met hers. Having a baby and sleeping enough was never compatible with a normal person, let alone someone who had looked like an anemic raccoon since his 20s. "Emily? What are you doing here?"

"It's my free day so- I guess I decided to pass by and see how things are going." She stated as he stepped back and allowed her into his apartment. Turn out that it didn't have to be as "baby-proof" as she originally thought. Spencer had always thought about his place of rest as something that should be safe for vulnerable people- of course, when he designed it like he was thinking of his mother, rather than his child, but one of the very few perks of parentification is that you are pretty much a caretaker before puberty, so he was sort of ready for it. "Where is Phoebe?"

"On my room- and for your info, Cambridge is not in the life plan- I don't have contacts in Europe" Spencer pouted, already on a purposeful quest for the light of his eyes.

"Oh, but I do." Emily shrugged, sitting on the surprisingly unused couch. She knew Spencer had a thing for falling asleep there, since it kept his sleep enough to limit the access to any dream whatsoever- but Phoebe didn't like he had to relent and lay on his bed like a normal human being. She might not be helping his sleeping schedule but she sure was doing his spine a service. 

"Look who is here? It's Auntie Emily!...even though you are barely conscious enough to recognize faces, let alone names. Oh but you are doing such a good job at that, yes you are." Spencer cooed, holding Phoebe close as she giggled and babbled, a stuffed cow in her little hands. "They start to recognize other's names by about 7 to 9 months but recognize theirs as early as 4 to 6. So technically, she already knows she has the cutest name ever." He explained, an excited, infectious grin on his face that Emily couldn't help but imitate.

"That is great Spence, hi little Phoebe. Oh you are so adorable with those-" Her grin vanished as her eyes registered what her one and only godchild was wearing "Spencer, why is my girl wearing a fuc- freaking Chewbacca pajama?"

The baby girl was, in fact, cladded in a furry, brow onesie. Spencer frowned, offended. "It's actually an Ewok, they are considerably smaller than Chewbacca and-"

"Just don't dress her up like that for school and we are good." Emily deadpanned, accepting a very eager Phoebe back in her arms "Hi sweetie, so you recognize your name now, huh?"  A sudden thought struck her as she made sure to keep her hair out of said baby's grabby hands "Hey Spence, I always wondered...why Phoebe? Like what is the story behind the name- because I know there is one."

At that, Spencer's eyes shone as he took his daughter's tiny hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of it with much care and gentleness, before he spoke again "Phoebe means Bright or Radiant in Greek. Everytime I think of the months I spent locked in a dark hole, I see her and- while it doesn't make the feeling go away- it gives me a reason to actually try, you know? A radiant light in the darkest night...so to speak..,"

And that was enough for Emily.

[ohallthecrushes]

You're a storm in a teacup and I'm starting to like the chaos.

I've been written this story since the last episode of Criminal minds Evolution that I've seen, which was...around one year ago. And this is so far the longest story I've ever written. Damn. I'm impressed by my own hyperfixation on this. xd I've never published it anyway, cause honestly, it was for my own amusement. Kind of self-inserted main character, you know. But since I've almost lost the whole story, I've decided to put it here to make it immortal. Who knows, maybe there are fans of CME that will find this story interesting (or sick, or both, hopefully both) and who love Elias Voit as a character (I don't recommend falling in love with someone like him!)

Without further ado!

Summary: Evelyn is a young-troubled woman who's just escaped a highly guarded psych ward (twice, but this time causing havoc on her way out)

Now she's running through the city, hiding from police. A not-so-accidental encounter with a man named Elias Voit will change her life forever. And she'll change his. His seemingly selfless help is laced with danger, hidden agenda, manipulation, endless tension, and...love? Slow burning inteligent-idiots-in-love trope. But mind you, just because it's a love story, doesn't mean it ends well.

General warnings throughout the story: Manipulation, illegal activities, murder(s), Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, explicit content, language... The whole pack. It's Criminal minds after all.

In this episode: Breaking into a house, whether it's abandoned or not, comes with a risk of dealing with a proposition that it's hard to decline.

Before Evelyn could stop him, Elias reached for the door handle. The front door creaked open with a rusty protest against the intrusion. Looked like it was really abandoned or someone forgot to lock it. She followed him inside, her warm breath created a fog in the cool, stale air when she sighed. The interior mirrored the house's neglected exterior – peeling wallpaper, dust everywhere, furniture barely standing...

"All I want is to stay away from trouble and somehow I'm still getting into a bigger one" she muttered under her breath with disbelief, complaining to herself at the same time. Here she was, at the doorway, contemplating whether to commit another crime or not.

Glancing around the sparsely furnished living room that bled into a grimy kitchen, she couldn't help but hope the place was deserted. Her break-in yesterday had been a stroke of luck and a desperate attempting to find a shelter – a family on vacation, the flat empty, no one even noticed, no damage done. This one, however, held a different energy. She noticed an open cereal box on the counter, and a few bottles of unopened beer – signs of life, however meager.

She sighed again as she went inside. She should have stayed in the car before Elias locked it instead of getting out with him.

"Looks empty down here. I'll check upstairs."

She jumped, startled by the unexpected sound of his voice. Her gaze darted to the avocado-green old fridge staying in the corner. Hunger, merely appeased by one single hot dog, made its presence known again. With a sigh, she abandoned any pretense of innocence.

"Go on." she said "I'll stay here guarding... the fridge." She opened it ignoring his surprised look, and reached for a lonely sausage that looked still fresh-ish. As she peeled the plastic off of it, a little voice in her head relentlessly judged her life choices.

After a long moment of silence and two bites later she heard the creak of the stairs. It made her spin around, a sausage halfway to her mouth. Elias, not someone else, stood there and flashed a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "One snoring old drunk man upstairs. As long as we keep it quiet, he'll sleep like a baby."

The news should have been a relief, but it wasn't. She started thinking...What if the old man wasn't such a sound sleeper? What if he woke up and stumbled downstairs to find them rummaging through his belongings? Her voice, when she finally spoke, was a whisper. "And… and if he wakes up?"

He shrugged, a casual movement that concerned her. "Then I'll take care of it."

His words were...unsettling to say the least, his tone nonchalant, as if he were discussing the weather. A glint in his dark blue eyes, a sign of something cold and calculating caused her to step back from him.

The tiny voice in her head was judging her ability to judge people correctly.

He noticed her reaction and put up his hands, saying he was only joking. Surely.

"Right, joking" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. As she was about to turn her eyes away, something caught her attention. With his hands up, his shirt went up revealing something metallic tucked into his waistband. She blinked away the initial shock.

Fuck.

Internally, she was screaming.

what taxi driver carried a fucking Glock?!

Her intuition told her to run, but logic told her to stay calm. She turned her head to the fridge to avoid eye contact. She wasn't easily fainthearted or timid. And the last couple of months taught her that she could find a way out of every situation. But she needed a moment to collect herself.

She slowly closed the fridge door. Her eyes landed on two bottles of beer. She'd already stolen a sausage, so why not? Telling her body to act casual, she brought the bottles to a nearby table where Elias was already sitting.

The silence was uncomfortable, broken only by the drip-drip of rain from the leaky roof. He opened one bottle, his face showed no emotion in the dim light. With a sigh, she reached for the second one, analyzing the situation.

She figured that the taxi must had been stolen.

She figured he might not be a taxi driver at all.

She figured that whatever game he was playing she wasn't going to play along.

"Alright," she began, her voice low and careful. "Who are you really? The stolen taxi was a bit of a head fake."

He took a long swig of his beer, his eyes flickering across her face.

"What do you mean?" He feigned confusion.

"You're not a taxi driver, are you? I mean, not the one that selflessly helps a random refugee charged with homicide to flee the town."

He didn't answer right away. His eyes piercing through her as if challenging her to figure this out on her own. "I guess, I'm not... But it doesn't necessary mean I'm your enemy."

"Then why you.." she hesitated "...carry a gun?"

He blinked with a surprise, a brief moment of genuine emotion, before his face became unreadable again. He cursed silently. She noticed. The gun could backfire easily, shattering the illusion of a kindly stranger. But he reminded himself that he could still control the situation even though he knew lying wouldn't work. Not with her.

But a half-truth could do the trick. At least for now.

"The gun is just for… protection," he said vaguely, his voice low and reassuring. "You know, the city can be a rough place at night."

"Right" She wasn't buying it. "You're a criminal on the run, aren't you? That's why you didn't alert the police."

He chuckled. "A criminal... like you?" he asked almost provocative, watching her reaction.

She fidgeted with her bottle of beer, turning it around. She didn't like that word being used to describe her by people who didn't know the whole story,. It was a label she learnt to despise. "No... Probably not like me... Who are you, really?"

He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to remain calm. "It's complicated," he began, choosing his words carefully. He couldn't tell her everything – the darkness, the violence, the blood that stained his hands – not yet. "Let's just say I help people. People like you, who find themselves in… difficult situations."

That wasn't enough. She raised her brow. "Continue..."

He put the bottle down. Pushing a little, are we, he thought.

"I operate in the shadows, I know how navigate it to my advantage, I know how to survive, how to avoid detection. I teach that to others." His voice was remained calm, almost detached. "I know you've been mistreated and I see the side of you that others can't. I know you're inteligent and resourceful and I see how much you want to survive. The gun… it's not about hurting you, Evelyn. It's about keeping you safe."

She looked at him with disbelief before she snorted with laughter. "A criminal mastermind that wants to help me. Of course," She hid her face in her hand dramatically. "Why would I meet a normal person when I could meet a criminal who have an interest in me? Jesus…" Sarcasm dripped from her voice, a defense against the helpless despair she felt. She looked away shaking her head in disbelief.

He felt a pang of irritation. He offered her his protection and that was how she reacted?

He leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "Look at me," he commanded. With a hesitation she did, her brows furrowed.

"You don't understand, do you?" He continued, frustration laced with a strange sort of self-control. "Right now, you're on the run with poor chances of getting away and with no connections that could help you disappear effectively."

He saw it in her eyes, a recognition of the truth behind his words. "You're on your own, your luck will eventually end sooner or later, and you need help, whether you like it or not." He added.

"I can take care of myself, thanks." She said firmly as she looked into his eyes. She'd made it this far without nobody's help. But there was a vulnerability in her voice, fear masked by bravado that she knew he noticed.

"Even if they catch you and lock you up again?"

She flinched, a sudden painful memory of her time in the psych ward flashed before her eyes.

"We can help each other." Elias pressed, but his voice softer now. "You can be more than what they think you are, more than what you think you are." He leaned forward as he saw the battle raging within her – fear warring with an unwelcomed acceptance.. "It's a lot to take in." he conceded, his voice calm, almost gentle. "But trust me, it doesn't have to be this way. This constant running, this fear… you don't have to live like that anymore."

His words stuck in her head, a challenge and a promise rolled into one. She stared at him, conflicted with emotions. Was he right? Was there a chance that he could help her? To what extend? And even if, then what would be the price? On one hand, the idea of aligning herself with someone like Elias was horrifying. It would be like going deeper into a rabbit hole, blindfolded. On the other hand, she wasn't sure how long she could go on like this. Alone. Against everyone.

She parted her lips. "I just want to live a normal life... And not be a monster." She said with sadness in her voice.

"We're not monsters," he continued, his voice low. "Not exactly. We're different. Our minds work differently. More efficiently, some might say. Pragmatic. Analytical."

He saw the skepticism flare in her eyes, the headshake a silent denial. She still held onto the fading dream of normalcy, a life where she could blend in, be 'good' and prove her innocence. He sighed, it was a dream he himself had once harbored, a dream that had been brutally shattered by reality.

"You think normal is granted?" he challenged, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Look at the world around you. Chaos. Violence. Hypocrisy. Normal is a lie, an ugly mask that's already cracked for you."

She bit her lip as she dropped her gaze to the table. His words were harsh, but they weren't entirely untrue. The world she remembered, the world she craved, felt increasingly distant and surreal, like a mirage in the desert.

"I won't be your… your partner, in crime." she muttered with defiance. "I'm not like you."

He leaned back, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He knew better than to push too hard, too fast. She wasn't ready to embrace the darkness yet, but the fight was half the fun.

"No." he agreed, his voice softer now. "Not yet, anyway. But keep this in mind, Evelyn. The world doesn't offer choices to people like us. It throws us into the deep shit, and survival becomes the only choice. And sometimes, survival requires… adapting. You'll see."

He finished the beer and rose from the table, leaving her with unspoken possibilities.. and threats. She remained seated, lost in her own thoughts. the harsh words of Elias echoed in her head – "survival requires adapting".

Adapting. It was all she had left. This or the alternative – psych ward or worse, jail.

The situation was far from ideal. Elias, for all his twisted pronouncements and some kind of empathy that she didn't quite believe in, had another strong argument against her possible resistance - a gun.

A gun wasn't something she could argue with. Not even with a small, sharp knife hidden within the sleeve of her black hoodie.

Even if he said that he wasn't going to use it against her, there was no guarantee of that.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. She regretted getting into that taxi.

Elias after throwing the empty bottle into a trash bin, turned to her, and shoved his hands into his back pockets. Unexpectedly he announced his need for a quick nap. "...just a short nap. In the meantime you can think about what I've said."

She looked at him and just slightly nodded. Nap? Perfect. A plan immediately started forming in her head. She could say that she'd stay awake, 'on watch' just in case. And while he slept, she could snatch the car keys and disappear into the night.

No shady partnership.

But just as quickly as the plan formed, it was shattered. With his eyes locked on her and a smirk he pulled something out of his pocket.

Handcuffs.

They were dangling from his index finger, the evidence of his distrust. Unlike the doctors and the police, he wouldn't be fooled by her facade of fragility and innocent looking face.

Her brows furrowed in a mixture of anger and defiance. Couldn't he give her a break? She met his gaze. "You're kidding?"

[crypt-tids]

A bit of a mushy storytime because my anxiety has been mean to me the last couple days and has lead me to deep diving into some stuff that kind of ended up making me feel better now that I've put the pieces together. (It is about my relationship so feel free to skip it if you've had enough of my rambling lol)

My bf was engaged 5 years ago, had been with that person for 4 years, had an apartment and pets with them, and had a wedding date set and everything. less than a month before the wedding, a huge hurricane hit, fucking everything up for a long time, and they had to postpone the wedding. 5 months later, they broke up. If that hurricane hadn't hit, they would have been (unhappily) married and I never would have met him.

He hadn't dated anyone in all of that time because that relationship was so emotionally abusive and manipulative that he didn't want to deal with it again.

In the fall of 2023, I got out of a horribly wishy washy, non-committal situationship with a person that would manipulate me into trusting them anytime they felt lonely, inevitably ending when they left me for the third time, using my sexuality as their excuse (which left a horribly deep scar that lead to me breaking down crying when I told my bf about my sexuality because I was terrified he would do the same thing to me--he did not). I tried a couple dating apps, went on 1 date, talked to some flakes that made big promises and never delivered, and then decided I was fucking done with it all and I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to put dating behind me and live alone because it was easier.

In January, I worked at an event I didn't want to work at at all, I did it only because my mom wanted to do it.( The guy I had been casually talking to at the time said he would try to show up to meet me. He never did, and never brought it up again and we didn't speak again after that.) anyways, my mom took a picture of our table to send to her customer/friend to see if she wanted anything. I just so happened to be in the picture. That was the first picture of me that my bf had ever seen that made him want to ask me out. If I had been a little more convincing and stubborn with my mom, we wouldn't have been at that event. There would have been no picture of our table to send to anyone, and my bf never would have known that I existed.

It took him over a week to work up the nerve to give my mom his phone number to pass along to me. 2 days later, I decided "what the hell" and texted him. In all of that time he had been drafting a text that he was terrified to send, and was just about to push through when my text came through for him.

It's so weird how seemingly unconnected events play such huge rolls in our lives. I almost didn't get to meet the only person I have ever genuinely, without any doubt, been in love with. The only person that has ever told me that my anxiety and insecurities weren't silly and that he understood them and wanted to reassure me through them. The only person that took it upon themselves to research asexuality on his own to better understand me and why I was asking him to be patient with me. He almost married someone that would have made him miserable, and because of a hurricane, a horrible hurricane that my office building is still not fully repaired from 5 years later, I got the chance to meet him.

I always read about how much people hate it when their partners snore, and I find snoring annoying in general myself. My ex-girlfriend had one of the loudest snores I've ever heard, and I fucking hated it. It would keep me awake and I would try to shuffle the bed a little to snap her out of it for a minute so that I could fall asleep. (That relationship oxidized really fucking quick, not because of the snoring, but it was a huge mess that involved her gaslighting me and leaving me with yet another depth to my relationship trauma that to this day makes me horribly anxious sometimes). but the sound of my bf snoring is the best most calming fucking sound in the world. I will fall right to sleep with it. I don't know what it is about his snore, because I know that his ex regularly teased him and complained about it because she thought it was annoying, but I love it.

He is genuinely the most calming presence in my life and is the only person that has ever made me feel like moving forward/change wasn't something to be afraid of. If things had been just a little different, I'd still be single, and we never ever would have met, or even crossed paths. I can't help but feel like all of that is cosmically important. Like it wasn't an accident, but the universe had carefully planned out the events in our lives because we were supposed to be together from the very beginning.

[starry-blue-echoes]

no way me? actually finishing a snippet for once? the world must be ending

but also no joke I've had this in my WIPs since mid October and I'm SO happy it's finally done :>

It's been a while since I did anything with the Vampric Joot In Italy With Vampiric Giorno, so how about we change that :)

(also, sorta? warning for implied vomiting. It's not graphic but the implications are there)

----------

Abbacchio didn’t trust the new guys. Didn’t like them either.

Now, this came to the surprise of literally nobody, including himself. He didn’t like people in general, simple as that.

(Well. Except for Bruno. But he was a literal angel among men and only an idiot wouldn’t like him. At the very least he could agree upon that with the kids.)

But this was different. The newbies were….. weird.

Giorno was a blonde little brat who looked like he hadn’t struggled a day in his life. He was too…… perfect looking, not a single blemish to be seen or hair out of place. No matter where you looked, and believe me Abbacchio had looked hard, there wasn’t a flaw to be found. He always moved with a stupid amount of poise and grace, footsteps quiet like a cat’s and never once looking caught off guard. And the kid wasn’t just a pretty face either, he was smart. He noticed things, small little things that usually only Abbacchio noticed. The kid knew about Abbacchio’s distaste. He definitely knew about the tea. But instead of getting pissy or tattling on Bucciarati, he stayed quiet.

On top of pissing him off, all of it was just plain freaky.

And Jotaro…..

Well. Where to even start with the bastard.

Under normal circumstances, Abbacchio would’ve had begrudging respect for him. He made it clear he wasn’t interested in any of them, but didn’t take any bullshit. He was built like a fucking truck, taller than even Abbacchio was, but he wasn’t a meathead and actually had some braincells. He was admittedly similar to Giorno when it came to brains and noticing things, but he was different in his execution. Blunter for one thing, not even bothering with any pretty words or manipulations. He gave the hard straight facts without any bullshit.

Unfortunately for him, any and all possible respect was thrown out the window because of his stupid fucking outfit.

He’d heard his explanation along with the rest of them when Narancia got nosey and asked. The simple “I’m allergic to the sun” without any elaboration.

And Abbacchio was calling bullshit.

That guy was wrapped up in so many layers that you couldn’t see a spot of skin anywhere. If the sun really was that dangerous for the man then why the hell had he joined the mafia? Abbacchio’s closet could attest to the fact that this line of work went though more clothes than the average person would want to deal with, from bullet holes to knife wounds to whatever the fuck could happen in a Stand Fight.

Unless Jotaro had a complete and total disregard for his life, it didn’t hold up. People only covered up that much when they didn’t want to be recognized and had absolutely no shot at a disguise.

Hence Abbacchio’s current plan.

Jotaro was currently gone with Narancia to grab groceries and wouldn’t be back for another hour. Fugo refused to leave the patio and was waiting for them to come back. Mista was doing a perimeter sweep outside. Bruno and Giorno were talking in the living room. Trish had holed herself up in her room.

Meaning no one was around to see him using Moody to get some answers.

Jotaro had also very conveniently gone upstairs before he’d gone to leave with Narancia, and the stairs themselves were quite loud. Only Trish was up there in her room, so Abbacchio didn’t even have to run the risk of someone sneaking up on him and asking questions (lord knows Bruno wouldn’t be happy if he ever found out). Now, he wasn’t quite sure where upstairs Jotaro had gone, but he could simply follow Moody, so easy fix.

Moody Blues slowly peeled off of him and stood, the digital clock on its head gradually ticking up until it slowed to a stop at around 23 minutes and 56 seconds.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding beneath that coat.” he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as Moody slowly shifted. It took barely a second before it changed, and soon enough Jotaro was standing right in front of him on the stairs.

“Play,” he commanded.

The copy took a few slow, expected steps up the stairs.

And then just as he left the view of the main room.

He vanished.

Suddenly and abruptly, Jotaro was gone. He didn’t seem to be hit by anything, he didn’t even fade or fizzle out. Just one moment he was there and the next he was gone and Moody reverted back to its usual form.

For a moment Abbacchio had thought that something was wrong with Moody. He rewinded the Stand briefly…. but the exact thing happened again.

What the fuck.

Okay, wait, think about this logically. It obviously wasn’t an attack or anything the man thought was dangerous, meaning Jotaro was likely the one responsible. Abbacchio still didn’t know what his Stand could do, none of them did, but whatever it was it was fucking fast. Much faster than a human. First there was how he managed to get to the docks before they had, then there was catching Zucchero on the boat. Who’s to say he didn’t use it to move. Based on how he’d only been upstairs for a few minutes, he likely hadn’t gone that far.

He felt out with Moody, feeling for the echoes of people who had walked these halls. No one had been here very recently thank god, but it still took a moment until-

There.

Behind one of the doors. Not Trish’s thankfully, that would’ve been awkward, but instead the door next to it.

Abbacchio easily closed the distance, walking up the last few remaining stairs and down the hall, and behind the door was……

The bathroom.

Moody quickly zipped over to where Jotaro had been by the toilet, and for a brief second Abbacchio was ready to skip over it…… 

But the man was hunched over it.

The layers of cloth were peeled away from his face but his hunched over frame prevented Abbacchio from getting a clear look.

But even without seeing his face, it was obvious he was sick.

Okay…… definitely not what he expected. The man hadn’t shown any signs of being sick earlier, so that either meant the apparent nausea had been very sudden or the guy was really good at hiding it.

Abbacchio sped up the replay. Even with the fast forward, it took a few seconds before Jotaro finally stood up, flushing the toilet as he did so. He made his way over to the sink and-

“Pause.” he commanded his Stand.

-and Abbacchio couldn’t help but stare.

He looked… okay this was going to sound crazy, but he didn’t look that human.

The features were…. wrong. He had two eyes, a nose, mouth, all the features that most people had but at the same time it was off. Like the strangeness of Giorno cranked up to an 11. His eyes were a blue almost as vibrant as the sky and sea itself, but around the pupils (which were too sharp too long not right) they were crackled with bits of red like shattered glass. And his skin, it was horrifyingly pale, almost looking translucent in some places. Abbacchio could practically count the veins and-

And now that he was looking at his face, he noticed Jotaro looked…. boney. His eyes were gaunt and his cheeks were hollow, the latter only being accentuated further by his sharp cheekbones.

Definitely way too boney to be losing meals like that.

There was also a strange…… youthfulness to his appearance. From the way he spoke and acted Abbacchio had assumed he was in his late 20s, maybe early 30s, but under the face mask he looked……. young, sorta. Sure the gaunt features and sheer exhaustion made him look older but if you were to fill him out a bit more…….

He looked like a teenager.

And that made a little, minuscule piece of Abbacchio squirm a bit. He was an asshole but…… nobody, especially not a kid (if Jotaro even was one), deserved to look like that.

During his time on the force he’d seen a few cases that still kept him up at night. And some of those cases had involved kids who were far too skinny and quiet with eyes that should’ve been bright holding nothing but a look no child should ever have.

And whil Jotaro wasn’t anywhere near their ages, the look in his eyes was pretty similar.

There was a muted pain in those blue orbs. A tenseness in his face, a heaviness in his shoulders, slight indents in his lips that spoke of having gnawed on them far too many times but lacking any scars.

But it looked so…… normal to the man. A whispered  “play” sent Moody back into motion and he was just…… casual. His movements were easy and practiced, and not once did his expression shift.

This was frankly none of his business. He’d done this to figure out Jotaro’s identity and any possible threats, not analyze him for any…… whatever the hell this was.

So why did Abbacchio feel like he accidentally stumbled upon a rabbit hole far deeper than he first anticipated.

[the-dalseum-duet]

I’m going insane

@svwhssftr late night kohlsposting meets queer girlie music taste tag

oh God. oh god KILL ME

bags… i’m not like the biggest Clairo fan ever but i really liked her in middle school and now that bags is blowing up I’m reminded of just how baller her music is. she’s just so airy and cutesy and nostalgic and it makes me want to gut myself. i actually have insane cuteness aggression. i see something cute and i resort to extreme forms of violence. can’t have anything good around here without getting it a lil bloody

(the first time i heard this song was in a rory x paris edit and they’re my one and only comfort ship. they’re so. grrrrr I love them dearly like it physically hurts me that both are “””straight””” BITCH THEY KISSED anyway this is not about the most goated gilmore girls ship. those academic rivals are LESBIANS!!! the writers are SO WRONG)

but i keep seeing posts like “men who listen to Clairo are the most manipulative people of all time” and it’s funny in theory. but. ideas. IDEAS. GRAHHHH

so. this leads me to noeul. Naturally. Manipulative man ever. But noeul does indeed have a soul buried deep down inside him. He is naturally inclined to do things that bring him genuine joy. He is a hopeless romantic bitch HE IS I’M SO SORRY. NATURALLY. HE IS. HE WAS NOT BORN INTO A POSITION WHERE HE COULD FEASIBLY BE ONE. BUT HE IS REGARDLESS. AND HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS

like he obviously has a strong romantic attraction to Charlie. he stays in dirty motels to see her and blindly trusts her multiple times. he proposes to her. that’s a massive fucking deal coming from him. Living in Eden Grove gave him a sliver of life as a normal human being, and he fell head over heels as soon as he had the opportunity. Charlie made him feel safe. But like. In the way that you feel it’s wrong. It’s very queer even though he’s a man. And she is a woman. They are the gayest straight couple ever. It’s a hard phenomenon to describe but it’s so strong and it’s so conflicting but it’s so warm and hopeful and. ughhh. tl;dr Noeul has emotions he knows he should have but knows he can’t have 

but he suppresses these HARD once he returns to Dalseum. he has to be cutthroat again and maintain the image he had with the Council. this only worsens once his father dies. this is why he cheats on Charlie with Sonnet because he feels like he should be with Sonnet. Sonnet is a prominent community member who will blindly agree with him. Charlie is this nobody who opposes his authority. So he freaks out and just throws her in prison so he doesn’t have to think about what could have been. Sonnet is who he realistically should end up with. He cannot afford to do what makes him happy and, in turn, a better fucking human. 

Oh yeah. He absolutely has a breakdown once he learns about the existence of Crow. Also why he actually realizes that there is room for kindness inside of him. Crow’s existence as their child. But that’s neither here nor there rn i just love torturing this man. 

But. Here’s where we torture him more. Kai. Kai fits this into a way that makes me want to bash my head into a wall even more. 

Noeul sleeps around in a feigned attempt to crush his romantic tendencies. He’s not supposed to be sappy. He’s supposed to be cold and all exchanges with others must be neutral, if not beneficial to only him. Which is how he meets Kai. This was established previously. At one of Gale’s shows. 

And. Throwing this out there. Just to toxic-ify this yaoi even further. Noeul actually really fucking likes him. Like he gets flustered occasionally around him. Kai is a dumbass (affectionate) and doesn’t pick up on this but Sara absolutely does and picks at Noeul for this. But Noeul definitely picks up on Kai not actually caring for him so Noeul acts like he doesn’t care either. But ohh hohohoho he does!! This little whore DOES care so much!! He WANTS romantic dates out on the town and he wouldn’t trade the mornings they wake up next to each other for ANYTHING!! HE LOVES HIS STUPID BITS AND THE WAY HE SMILES AND THE WAY HE PERFECTLY FITS INSIDE HIS ARMS!!!! HE LOVES THAT DAMN SHARK BOY!! But Kai’s just oblivious. He’s just like “eh he sleeps around with Everyone. he just wants to have some fun and I’m cool with that. he’s just like that” BUT HE’S ACTUALLY NOT LIKE THAT. THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS EVERYONE TO THINK. THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS EVERYONE BUT KAI TO THINK!!

that’s it. that’s all. 

just. picturing Sara walking in on Noeul violently sobbing face planted onto his bed with Bags by Clairo playing on repeat in the background 

“…are you okay?”

“WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS”

“hungover?”

“worse.”

“kai?”

“NO”

“you’re in love, sang. I’ve never seen you act like that before. stay in denial all you want”

“fuck off sara”

“I’m just saying. It’s better if you figure it out yourself. I’m just pushing you in the right direction”

“there is no right direction here.”

“is that fucking pheobe bridgers?”

“NO!”

“oh-“

“it’s Clairo”

“oh my bad?”

[ellascreams]

You know I frequently think about what Magnus Archive entities different characters from things would be warlocks for but I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about any of my thoughts on it before. Maybe I should start doing that, just for fun. Someone might find it interesting. This one is for IEYTD because I don’t expect this hyperfixation to die very soon. Spoilers for all the games. Oh and if you want to use this as inspiration for some weird crossovers you can, but please tell me if you do, because I wanna see it.

Agent Phoenix: The End This one is especially fitting if you think of the time loops as being in universe, stuck dying again and again, but it works even without that. Constantly close to death, feeling the fear of death, but never actually dying. Causing others fear because their friends have to deal with grief and their enemies have to be terrified every time they survive something they shouldn’t have. You could make an argument for The Beholding, you can for most protagonists, but it doesn’t make as much sense to me.

Handler: The Beholding He watches his agents do such dangerous things and can’t do much more than watch. He can help in someways but not too many. I imagine it would also be uncomfortable for Zoraxis agents to know they’re being watched by someone who they can’t see, someone other than the agent in front of them. Alternatively, he could be The Web. (“A mere puppeteer, they only enslave you,”) I just don’t think that works as well since he also has to answer to The Agency and he doesn’t have any malicious intent with his manipulations.

Dr. Zor: The Web Constantly orchestrating schemes from the shadows, has no loyalty to anyone and will kill their highest ranks without remorse if they interfere with their plans, too clever to ever be caught, and knows what Phoenix will do well enough to leave messages for them. Could also make arguments for The Stranger, The Beholding, The End, and The Extinction, but I think all of those connect back to their plotting and masterminding.

Daniel Sans: The Corruption Very minor character but I felt like adding him here. He made a super virus. That’s it that’s all I’ve got.

Zoraxis AI: The Buried Specifically the one in the escape pod. Does this even count as a character? No idea, but you can’t tell me that escape pod doesn’t sound like it would be the subject of someone’s statement if they got out of it alive.

Hivemind: The Corruption He’s literally just bees. Like, a bunch of bees. His name is Hivemind. What else can I even say?

Solaris: Uh The Vast Maybe? Because space? I’ll be honest I’m not really sure about this one, if anyone has any ideas I’d love to hear them.

The Fabricator: The Desolation She seems to enjoy the pain she causes with her inventions, whereas some of the scientists in game seem more like they’re just hurting people for the sake of their science. I’d also definitely accept The End for her since death traps are kind of her main thing.

John Juniper: The Stranger He’s got the masks, the acting and lying, he impersonates people, it seems like a perfect fit honestly. I guess he could maybe work for The Spiral but that’s mostly because it’s so similar to The Stranger.

Gibson: The Beholding Ok this one might sound a bit weird but hear me out. Phoenix pretends to be Gibson for a reason, his radio allows him to eavesdrop and he probably does eavesdrop just so he won’t miss Juniper’s commands. Gibson is just a butler, but he hears all about these worldwide conspiracies and gets caught in the crossfire, and there really isn’t much he can do about it. Except threatening to share the things that he’s heard, which is very affective, because he’s heard a lot of important secrets.

Shawn in HR: The Beholding Honestly he really does give me archive assistant or object storage vibes. Just doing his job hearing about and sorting the horrors. The big difference is that the horrors in this situation are corporate espionage and conspiracies.

Dr. Prism: The Extinction Ok once again, this may seem a bit weird, but hear me out. Her main goal in game is to replace the agents with robots and there is an element of humanity being replaced to The Extinction, not just everyone dying. Then there’s Zor’s betrayal destroying all her robots at once. Then she helps Phoenix save all the agents in the world from death. Even if it’s never an extinction of humanity she certainly has experience with extinctions. An alternate might be The Hunt because of her obsession with revenge and killing Phoenix or Zor, and the Agency trying to track her down.

Robutler: The Stranger or The Spiral He just seems so friendly and happy to talk to you while he attempts to kill you.

Ollie: The Lonely I swear this isn’t just because Ollie’s voice reminds me of Alexander J Newall’s. The poor guy just got abandoned in the ocean for like at least a month. His coworkers and bosses seem to be pretty mean to him too.

Director Morales: The Web He really is just running The Agency behind the scenes. We really don’t hear much about him orchestrating anything but maybe that’s just because he’s really good at it. Out of all these characters, he would probably be the creepiest to me if he was actually a warlock for an entity.

The Phantom: The Web We really don’t know much about them but they manage to leave coins for Phoenix to find everywhere they go knowing that they’ll find them. Very Web like behavior. Maybe The Hunt. The coin thing is kinda like a scavenger hunt and they do have to track down Phoenix to leave those clues.

[scarletknightreterns]

I gotta say I adore Cinder and seeing how Death responds to her traumas in the comics you made has got me wondering....how does she respond to his own?

Most people in the fandom believe Lilith at one point ra*** him, based on convos in the game and the Abomination Vault novel. I have a few other reasons from the game beyond Lilith that suggest this to me, but no need to make this too long. Yes he likely has veteran soldier type ptsd struggles as well I'm sure, but I imagine with Lilith as a self proclaimed 'Mother' there's definitely way more that's happened. I mention this only because I have one morbid curiosity.

Thank you so much for the kind words, and for the ask!

I absolutely picked up on those little tidbits of information, too, and it’s made me hate Lilith all the more.

—

Cinder understands Death’s opinion and feelings on the matter quite well....

Having had a fairly troubling past of being used, manipulated, lied to, black-mailed, and treated less then dirt and like a means to an end by her very own ‘father’ who didn’t give two shits about her, she can have a pretty good idea of what the Reaper is brooding during his overly moody ‘no talk me angy’ moments.

To say the absolute least, she’s learned from her own past mistakes that violence, even if absolutely understandable and justified, gets you absolutely nowhere, even if you’d so dearly wish to rip your abuser in half and burn the pieces left in Hellfire.

Cinder would acknowledge anything Death says that happened to him/ he’d experienced, silently lending an ear at all if he had any centuries-worth of trauma to trust her with gleaning. Getting angry at what he’d gone through most certainly would be part and parcel to the package, but she’d not let him know that. He needs to be heard, not be the cause for more volatile feelings, and what she feels doesn’t matter in the moment.

Cinder wouldn’t overstep her boundaries, and instead would put it out there that she’s there to help him deal with those feelings if he wishes to tread that path; the choice is his to make.

What she would do without prompt, however, are small gestures of kindness, the little ones of comfort. Not to say the gristly pale Rider himself needs comfort, but he needs comfort. Support.

He has to let go of what happened, yes. I don’t think the Reaper himself will ever stop being a sarcastic jerk to most and all, but he also has to learn to accept what happened.

Sharing stories around a campfire, she’d spend hours.

Helping him out with a quarry of demons he needs to take care of but it would be too much alone, her sword is there, free and willing.

Being just a silent presence in the dead of night, staring at the stars, she’ll be at his back.

Having bad thoughts and just being frustrated with every minute detail in all of Creation; she’d remind him that sometimes things are too overwhelming when standing too close, and to just take a step back and breathe for once.

He’s not just a Horseman— terrible enforcer of the balance, dog of the Charred Council who treats all the 4 as nothing more then puppets to throw away once for a lack of usefulness. He is her best friend, an ally, and another living being— as much as he’d protest lacking a heartbeat thereof.

She’s mighty protective of family, where it’s due and appropriate.

And to say the least...

Lilith might not enjoy the next encounter she has with the woman. Not all of Hell, nor Samael’s Black Throne can save the bewitching Demoness from the iron claws of Cinder once her eyes are set on something deserving of her seething ire.