#this happened twice now but the first time i was without cell phone

[evild3ad]

look into the lens and maybe you'll see...two of them.

[gayraeofsun]

i just really want to scream about this movie into the void because it was so well done, and i doubt anyone will really see this but i don't really have anyone i could have a deep discussion about this with.

trigger warning and spoiler warning ahead for the movie blink twice. content ahead discusses themes around sa, including r*pe, drugging, manipulation, and general physical/verbal abuse.

i don't keep up with any previews or recent movie releases much anymore, so i was going into this movie almost completely blind like i do with most new movies anymore. i had seen one preview, but it was apparently plain and simple enough for me to mostly forget about it. the irony in that will be made known a bit later on.

the movie automatically opens with a screen that displays a trigger warning, which is something that i had been seeing for the first time in any kind of visual media. normally these things are already listed by the ratings, but as a sa survivor who had no idea what this movie was going to be, it was a good thing to see so i could brace myself for what was to come. do i think this is necessary for any and every movie of this kind? no, it feels a little redundant (again, these things are typically included in the ratings). and, well, asking me to not watch if it would upset me is kind of a no deal, since i paid for a ticket and popcorn to see this on the big screen.

we're immediately introduced to our two main characters, two best friends, and it's hard to not immediately fall for their relationship with each other. so playful and silly and ridiculous, you can immediately tell they adore each other's company in their shitty job living in their shitty apartment, and you can tell that they're written by a woman who loves these characters and wants to portray them as relatable people. the interactions between the whole cast of girls, i think, was just outstandingly done. they felt realistic, not constantly shitting on each other and fighting for the attention of the men (though some jealousy of that fashion is still portrayed). they were all there enjoying the island and they ended up bonding together wonderfully. they were funny without being over-the-top rude or nasty or promiscuous, as is portrayed commonly in female characters in popular media. i can't and won't stop gushing over how much these characters felt just like real life girls that i was hanging out with.

this movie was really great at putting a pit in your stomach and slowly making it grow. of course, the trigger warning at the beginning spoils what's to come, so for me the pit was there from the start. any sensible person who's been socialized to be a woman will know, you don't ever just run away with some random ass group of men you don't know to the middle of nowhere with no cell service. but the little things that make the main character, frida, stop and question are so subtle, and so easily dismissed to start with. the used lip gloss in the drawer, the available clothes despite being an "unexpected" guest, the weird cleaning staff. but they increasingly get more odd. the island is full of venomous snakes and they all have to be killed on sight. something about these flirty interactions isn't quite right anymore, and he's talking about repressed memories. what day even is it? why am i always waking up with dirt under my nails?

who even knows or cares though, since we're all high and/or drunk 24/7. welcome to paradise!

it builds and builds until it begins to unravel, slowly and then all at once as the girls come to the realization of what happens to them every night when they get unbelievably high after dinner. the bond between the first two to piece it together was outstanding, and i love that there wasn't a cheap "find the phones and call authorities" plan. they worked out why that wouldn't work at all, because who would they believe? the "hysterical bitches" making claims without any kind of solid evidence, or the rich white man who's now a reformed soul and probably good friends with some of the cops?

the ending is not a happy one, in my eyes, though i believe it was probably supposed to be portrayed as one? two girls live and three girls die by the end. the ringmaster (ceo) of the whole thing ends up accidentally taking his own forgetfulness juice and suddenly doesn't understand what's going on and why all his friends are dead or have been otherwise brutalized. he knocks over lit candles and then trips and knocks himself out in his stupor, and the island burns down, the photographic evidence (that was later discovered) and all. i thought it was just going to end there and we would be left with the ambiguous ending, and that's never satisfying and feels very overdone anymore.

but instead, we're given a scene where our main character is now the ceo of the company, and legally married to the man who lured her away and horrifically abused her. twice. i interpreted this as her getting her own form of justice/revenge. i doubt she gives him half the treatment he gave her, but now she controls him and everything he owns and knew, and gets every bit of respect she wants. he killed her best friend and two other girls after overpowering the lot of them every single night. in a perfect world, he'd get tried and punished for his crimes legally. but all the evidence of it ever happening burned to the ground. so this is what she does to cope. in the final scene, she seems very satisfied, more than pleased to make her new husband's old crew squirm. she becomes the thing that destroyed her and so many others (but yk, most likely without the rapist cult).

one character i very suddenly grew interested in was the scrawniest boy in the group. he flies perfectly under the radar and doesn't appear in many of scenes that portray the gruesome sa. the one where he's in clear view, he appears to be another victim, trying to flee from one of the bigger men and receiving a black eye, which he would have no memory of getting the next morning. he's told by one of the girls that he smells nice, most likely referencing the perfume that was making them forget everything. it seemed very clear that he was in a victim role here as well, likely also being sa-ed. but he's never seen bound and gagged with the girls.

his final scene gets interesting when the ceo berates him for doing nothing to help the girls the entire time (yeah, the same ceo millionaire who's been basically orchestrating this whole sick fucking show in his perfect little getaway island). how he thinks there's a special place in hell for people who sit and do nothing in the face of evil. there are two very different ways to interpret this. 1) he wasn't actually getting drugged and abused with the girls, and was there as someone who didn't actively participate in abusing the girls, but also didn't do anything to try to stop it either. this could be blatant commentary on the two types of evil; while "not all men" r*pe and abuse people, not enough men will speak out against it or try to run to the victim's defense. or 2) the ceo was casting blame onto someone who was genuinely confused as to what was happening (which seems to ring true in both scenarios), and someone who was also a victim and stuck in a completely helpless situation. both could hold some level of truth, but ultimately i read him as the latter, thinking he was meant to represent the less common male victim. he gets killed by one of the girls, who wasn't specifically targeting him but also wasn't taking any chances, and that's the last we see of him. in my eyes he could either be read as the kind of evil that merely observes and therefore was rightfully murdered, or he could represent his male victims often get forgotten about or less acknowledged, which could speak as to why he was killed off so quickly never to be discussed again.

and i've gotta say, one thing i really appreciate about the scenes depicting r*pe is that it put a lot of the focus on the r*pists and not their victims. they were careful to not show any nudity or any shots of the women getting r*ped, but still showed them getting forced down when they tried to flee. i have not personally seen any other graphic scenes of this nature in other movies, but from what i hear a lot of it can get rather pornographic, and i feel like that's incredibly distasteful when you're trying to depict something that's absolutely vile. this movie does a great job of getting the absolute terror of the moment across without compromising any of the actresses by posing them seductively or showing off their bodies, and same goes for the men (if you don't count a couple of them being shirtless).

the writing is so wonderful, and the little clues as to what's happening beneath the surface are so good and plentiful. this is a movie that i don't think i'd ever be able to sit through again, but the sense of dread that continued to grow and grow will surely stick with me. it was very darkly funny in many places, which did great to break up some of the tension. for anyone who was able to stomach it, i would highly recommend watching through it once you're able. i think it was outstandingly well done and handled certain things as well as it could without watering any of it down.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

For the request thing, might be dark but holing it's more angst/scary -> Fluff. NRC First years (or any boy you wanna write about) get a phone call from Fem!reader in the night, they think they hear someone breaking into Ramshackle and are scared, the boys' rush in to rescue/protect reader. (Up to you if there is actually someone breaking in or its just old house noises/Grim or ghosts rummaging around etc) thank you for your lovely work thus far!

COMMENTS: Hi! Thank you. 😊 First I just wanted to say that the way I wrote it doesn't make any difference if it's a Fem Reader, so I did it for a GN Reader like I always do. I also apologize that Ace and Deuce's parts are the shortest, it just happened. 😔

More recently I also have less time to write, which is why this one took so long to finish. But I hope you and all like it.❤️

BTW: I used Bard to help me with Epel's dialect. 😜

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola; Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Epel Felmier; Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 490 words per character.

CONTEXT: You had stayed in the bedroom while Grim went downstairs to do something. Probably for a snack. But then you hear him shouting your name as if asking for help.

Knowing that without magic you could be in even more danger than Grim, you pick up your cell phone and call the first contact that appears.

“What's your deal calling so late, hum?” Ace says when he answers you. “It can be off with my head for this, you know?” You explain to him what happened. “Ah, so you called me to come and protect you, is that it?” he says smugly. “You're probably just exaggerating. Maybe Grim is asking for help because he realized he already ate all the-” he noticed that the call was suddenly cut. “Oi, Prefect?... (Y/N)?... (Y/N)?!”

Ace ran out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. Even though he knew he would have problems when he returned.

When he arrived at Ramshackle Dorm, he cautiously approached the door, trying to listen for something to know what state things were in and what situation you were in. But he can't hear anything.

Until you scream! He tries to open the door but it is locked. So he decides to break it in with magic, and runs to the lounge where you were.

“(Y/N)!” He runs to the lounge instinctively, automatically pointing his magic pen at whoever is there with you. Grim and the ghosts scream at being surprised by Ace and he realizes it's just you and them in the dorm.

“Wha- What is going on?!” He asks “You called me because you thought someone was breaking into the dorm. And I come running here to find out that nothing happened?”

You tell Ace that technically you never talked about someone breaking into the dorm, and that after all he was right and Grim was melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“So what was that about the call hanging up while we were talking?” Your cell phone has run out of battery. “And the scream just now?” The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you.

Ace was upset, probably as much as you were.

“Serious? All this rush for nothing. How am I going to explain this to the housewarden? I'm going to lose my head at this hour.” He looks at you with that sly smile. “You know, this is your fault. I came running here because you hinted that you were in danger. I think I deserve compensation. What if you let me sleep here tonight?

“If you get in charge of fixing the door that you just broke into.” Grim says.

“I did it because I thought it was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah? We can always settle this in Heartslabyul's court.”

“Fine, fine, I'll fix the door.” He looks at you “Can I sleep here tonight then?”

“Hi (Y/N). It's really late for you to be calling, is something wrong?” You explain to Deuce what happened. “Don't leave your room! Stay safe there, I'm on my way!” He hangs up the call and runs out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. He doesn't think twice because you wouldn't be the type to play a prank like that on him. Right?

When Deuce arrives at Ramshackle, he calls your cell phone. But you don't answer. Which worries him even more. He runs to the front door and tries to open it. Obviously it was locked. So he breaks it open with a mix of brute force and magic... or maybe a cauldron.

“(Y/N)! GRIM!” He calls.

“DEUCE?!” He hears the incredulous voice of you and Grim in unison. They were coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

“Are you guys okay? What happened?”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“Oh... That's a relief, I think. But why didn't you answer me then? I called you before I came in.” Your cell phone had run out of battery. He sighs and smiles at you. “Well, I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding and that you're okay.” All of his priorities at that moment were knowing that you were safe, so much so that it didn't even occur to him to ask any more questions.

You hear the door that Deuce had just broken down creaking in the wind. “I am so sorry!” he says “I can fix the door, don't worry.”

But the wind starts to get stronger, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite him to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm that night.

“Are you sure?” He asks, as if he also said he didn't want to bother. It's the least you can do for him. And you will talk to Riddle to explain what happened and stop him from cutting off Deuce's head.

“Thank you so much (Y/N).” He smiles at you. “I promise I'll fix the door tomorrow.”

“Hello (Y/N). Is something wrong?” Jack knew that for you to be calling at that time there was little chance of it being for a simple conversation. You explain to him what happened. “Did you hear any other strange noises?” You say there was absolutely nothing else, which also worries you. And at that moment you start to hear the wood on the floor creak as if someone was climbing the stairs. “Stay safe in your room! I’m on my way!”

The thing is that when you called him, he was already getting ready for bed. So he quickly changed his clothes with the help of magic and ran out of Savanaclaw right to Ramshackle Dorm. Making sure not to wake up any of the Savanaclaw students who might already be asleep, especially Leona.

When he arrives, he uses his signature spell to transform into a wolf and sniff the outside of the dorm to try to notice if there was any different smell, from someone other than you and Grim perhaps. But he doesn't notice anything strange in the air. Which meant that either there was nothing strange going on or whoever showed up was really good at hiding their tracks.

He approaches the front door and tries to listen inside. And that's when he hears you scream. He wastes no more time, breaks down the door in his wolf form and follows the trail of your scent to you. Upstairs. In your bedroom.

As soon as a huge white wolf appears at the door of your bedroom, Grim and the ghosts are the ones who scream this time. No one else was there with you. Jack returns to his beastman form.

“What happened? Did someone break into the dorm? Have they already run away?” He still had his defensive and ready to attack posture.

You apologize to him and explain that Grim's cry for help was nothing more than him being melodramatic when he discovered he was out of snacks.

“So who was coming up the stairs when you called me?”

After Grimm screams, the ghosts appear and they thought it was an excellent opportunity to scare you. They had just jump-scared you before Jack showed up. Up until then they had been making strange noises to build the suspense.

“And did you find that funny?!” Jack shouts at them. “This could have been an emergency! You shouldn't joke about something like that!” He starts to calm down as the ghosts apologize and Grim says it wasn't out of spite. And he remembers one thing. He puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it. “Oh, um... I... I ended up breaking down your door to get in. I'm sorry. I'll fix it.”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Jack to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. It's the least you can do for getting him into all that mess.

“Well, that would be very helpful. Especially because I don't want to risk waking up anyone in my dorm when I get back. But... are you sure?” You could see his tail starting to wag a little.

“Good evening (Y/N).” Epel greets you “Is everything alright?” You explain to him what happened. “Hmm?! M-Maybe it's nothing serious. D-Do you have any way of knowing what happened safely? You know, without you being noticed if someone is there I mean?”

You say you'll try and Epel hears you walking and leaving the door of your bedroom but then he stops hearing anything.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?... (Y/N)?!” He looks at his cell phone and sees that the call has disconnected. “Land sakes alive, what have I done now? I gotta get on over there right this minute!” AKA: "AH! What have I done? I have to go there! NOW!"

He changes his clothes as quickly as possible with the help of magic and runs out of Pomefiore. Praying that no one spots him and stops him. The part about someone stopping him didn't happen, now the part about being seen or noticed could be another story.

When he arrives at Ramshackle Dorm he tries to call you again, but it seems like your cell phone is turned off. He prepares his magic pen and thinks about breaking the door with magic. But then he realizes that he can make your situation worse, since he doesn't know what's happening inside.

Until he hears you scream and then he forgets all his pacifist options and breaks down the door as his instinct was telling him to do.

“(Y/N)?!” he calls for you.

“EPEL?!” He hears your incredulous voice. It was coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

"What in tarnation happened? Y'all alright?"

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“You're pulling my leg, ain't you? All this hullabaloo over a little snack?” You, Grim and the ghosts look at him confused. He clears his throat. “I mean, all this fuss for a late night snack?” He looks at Grim in annoyance. “Wait!” He looks at you. “What about your cell phone? The call dropped and I couldn't call you anymore.”

You explain that you ran out of battery on it.

“And your scream just now?”

The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you. He looks at the ghosts with the same look of annoyance that he looked at Grim. Epel takes a deep breath and sighs. You all heard the wind making the now broken door creak.

“Ah! The door!” He realizes. “I’m so sorry. I break it to get in. I can fix it, I promise. I can make it as good as new. I can make it look like new. Since you'll probably need a new one anyway. I´m sorry... again.”

After all that, at a time like that, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite Epel to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And you say that you will explain everything to Vil, especially the fact that Epel did that because he thought you were in danger.

“R-Really?! Um, but are you sure it's okay for me to sleep here tonight?”

“HUMAN!” Sebek shout at your ear. “What is your business calling me at an unacceptable hour like this?” You explain to him what happened. “Don't be ridiculous! I'm sure nothing serious could be happening.” You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching your bedroom. You tell him this. “Are you saying those footsteps sound like a human and not Grim?” The call hangs up. “Human?... (Y/N)! I DEMAND THAT YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW IF YOU ARE LISTENING TO ME!” But he doesn't hear anything else.

Under normal circumstances he would notify Lilia and ask for permission to leave Diasomnia at an hour like that. But he was also trained to act in emergencies and this was one of those times. He cannot waste any time and must leave immediately for Ramshackle Dorm.

Despite his temperament, he was trained to know how to act in these types of situations. He must first analyze what is happening and only then create a plan. Otherwise he takes the risk of making things even worse and in the worst case scenario, your life will end because of his irresponsibility. He approaches the door and listens. Things were calm, too calm. Until he hears you scream!

He immediately breaks down the door with just his strength and takes out his magic pen. He hears movement upstairs. In your room. He runs there and when he arrives, his warning shout gives a heart-stopping scare to everyone there with you. Which is just Grim and the ghosts.

“WHAT HAPPENED? I REQUEST A REPORT IMMEDIATELY!”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on. And then he and the ghosts decided to take advantage of the situation to play a trick on you.

“Was that why you screamed before I came in?” He asks. You confirm. “What about your cell phone? The call ended after you told me you heard someone coming up the stairs.” Your cell phone ran out of battery.

“HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS? You should always have your greatest means of communication ready for an emergency!” He then looks at Grim. “AND YOU! You should redefine your priorities! Asking for help over a snack is unacceptable!” Before Grim can complain, he finally looks at the ghosts, but still referring to Grim as well. “And what you did, from what I know, humans call it a prank. I always found them unnecessary and ridiculous. And look how right I am! UNACCEPTABLE TO BE USED IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS!”

Grim starts arguing with Sebek until the ghosts say he's right. That was a mean joke at a bad time and they apologize to both you and Sebek. Which brings a smug to his face.

You hear a creak, the wind passing through the broken door.

“Do you see where your joke took you? You made me break down the door thinking it was a rescue.”

“You broke her because you wanted to!” Grim responds. “We didn't force you into anything!”

Sebek sighs, annoyed. “Very well, I'll find a way to fix the door. BUT MAY THIS BE THE LAST TIME YOU TRICK (Y/N) TO THE POINT OF CALLING ME TO COME HERE!”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Sebek to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm.

“Don't worry.” He says “There will be no such need. Just as I came here, I can easily return without any problems.” But if you say that you feel bad about making him go to Ramshackle Dorm for nothing and that it is the least you can do for the inconvenience, he might reconsider. “Oh, I see. You're still scared, are you not? Very well, I can keep you company tonight.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[insidekatmind]

Between the Shadows of a Secret~Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18, smut, cheating, english is not my first language.

You're spending the afternoon at Pope's house. His room is full of posters, vinyl records, and that soft light that he prefers so much. You laughed, joked, and now you are on the sofa, next to each other, your leg touching his. You feel good, strangely at ease. Then you feel your phone vibrate.

Once, twice, three times.

You take it out, see "Topper" on the screen, and immediately put it on silent. Pope glances at you, a half smile on his face.

"Problems?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. He looks at you like he knows something you don't want to admit. And that provocative nuance of hers sends a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head, trying to pretend nothing happened. “Nothing important.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't insist. Yet, for a moment, he remains silent, looking at you with that deep and knowing look that only Pope can do. “Are you sure you don't want to answer?”

You ignore his tone and change the subject, but you feel your phone vibrate again. A message this time. Toppers.

> "Hey, where are you?" "I tried to call you" "Everything ok?"

Your heart beats a little faster. You know you should answer him, but you don't want to. You look up at Pope and he is still watching you, as if he can read every thought in your mind.

Pope leans a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Are you afraid?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.

You look at him with a half smile. “What should I be afraid of?”

He looks down at your lips, then back into your eyes, a moment of hesitation. “To feel what you feel in this moment.”

There is a charged silence, full of meanings, of things left unsaid. But then you move away a few centimeters, as if to regain control. “You're talking nonsense,” you tell him, trying to keep your tone neutral.

"Really?" Pope replies, with that smile that smacks of challenge. “Then why are you here, with me?”

You have a feeling of panic. The phone's vibration returns, insistent, almost like a guilt. It's Topper again, as if he's realized something is wrong.

And Pope reaches out a hand, touching yours. "You don't have to answer," he murmurs. "Not to him."

For a moment you stand still, torn between what you should do and what you want to do. And in that instant, you understand that something has changed.

For a moment everything is suspended. Your cell phone still vibrates, but it's just a distant noise, a background that no longer affects you. You are here, with Pope, with his dark eyes and that nuanced light that makes everything a little unreal, almost magical. You don't know if it's the time, if it's the right thing, but it's like something inside you can't wait any longer.

You lean forward, moving closer to him, your heart pounding like it's on the verge of exploding. You feel his breath, warm, touching your face, and he looks at you as if he can't believe what's about to happen.

And then you kiss him.

At first it's a light, uncertain touch, as if neither of them is sure of what they're doing. But Pope kisses you back immediately, happy, as if he was just waiting for that. His lips move on yours, sweet but intense, and he gets even closer, a hand sliding up your back, as if trying to bring you closer, not to let you go.

When you break away, his eyes are lit, bright. He looks at you like he's surprised, but at the same time like he always knew this moment would come.

“I didn't think you'd have the courage,” he murmurs, with that provocative half-smile.

You look at him, smiling without realizing it. “I'm not who you think.”

“I understood this.” His fingers slide between yours, slowly intertwining, as if that gesture was enough to say everything that neither of you dares to say out loud yet. Then he tilts his head, bringing your face close. “But do you know what it is?”

His eyes fixed on yours, and his tone is calm, warm, but firm. “That's fine with me.”

And here you ended up lying on the couch while Pope was fucking you so hard.

“Pope please more” you said desperately feeling how his big hard cock was penetrating you. He groans biting your shoulder increasing his thrusts.

“Whatever you want honey” he said as you moaned loudly.

The phone kept ringing, and it was Topper, but you didn't care, especially not right now, because Pope was fucking touching points you didn't know you knew. You were on another planet where all you could think about was Pope and how good his cock made you feel.

Pope on the other side pushed harder into your pussy and loved how tight it was around his cock. He looked away from you for a moment and saw your phone ringing again and huffed knowing it was Topper.

He looked at you again and kissed you increasing his thrusts making both of you moan and you come on his cock as he continues to penetrate you.

“So big” you moaned as you felt how his cock was destroying your pussy and he moaned.

“This pussy feels so good…made just for me” he said moaning then squeezing your tits and slapping them then making you whimper.

“I should answer your phone and make Topper listen to how good a slut you are for me” he said jealously as he pushed his cock harder into your pussy.

At that thought you tightened your pussy on his cock and he chuckled pushing you inside.

“You're mine y/n...this pussy is mine” he said as you nodded because you couldn't speak due to the moans.

Pope nibbles on your neck marking it and he smiled at your masterpiece as he placed his hand on your neck to squeeze it making you moan as you felt too much pleasure.

“I bet Topper doesn't make you feel as good as I do” he said pushing further into your pussy and you moan.

“I have never fucked with Topper” you told him and he just hearing this felt himself coming and smiled as he kissed you and pushed himself further into you.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he was about to come and you moan, scratching his back.

“Come inside me Pope, please” you begged and he smiled pushing his entire load inside you.

“With pleasure” he told you as you moaned feeling his cum inside you

[violetmuses]

Opposites Attract - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Title: Opposites Attract - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Detective!Reader

Main Storyline: Working with the Miami Police Department, you meet criminal Armando Aretas for the very first time. @adoresmiles @nobodygetsza 🏷

Part I ❤️‍🩹

======

2024

“Where did she come from?” Armando Aretas revealed this question about you while facing Mike and standing in his brand-new portable cell.

This federal transport would send everyone back to Miami, Florida.

“Joined our department and she's been pretty quiet until this point.” Mike defended your work here. “Almost fought me before we visited you last time.”

“She swung?” Armando wouldn't laugh despite the joke.

“No, but she'll definitely kick some ass when provoked.” Despite noting Aretas, Mike turns your way regardless. “Just like you.”

Across this space, you closed your eyes while trying to sleep. Even Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett trailed the operation.

______

Once everyone returned to Miami safe and sound, you watched surveillance cameras as precinct staff observed Armando.

“What happens now?” You looked toward Mike and Marcus. “We can't keep Armando in the building all night.”

“Her place…” Marcus pointed near you without thinking twice.

“I'll smack right upside your peasy-ass head, Marcus!” Mike then scrunched up his face. “No.”

“If anyone's harboring a fugitive, it might as well be her.” Marcus brought you up once more.

“That's crazy.” Mike couldn't believe what's going on.

“I can't bring Armando near the house with my family and you don't want to scare Christine, either.” Marcus continued speaking.

Burnett even referred to Mike's wife Christine, a physical therapist. She also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery years back.

“I'll do it. Just tell him.” You say, gathering your belongings to leave with Armando.

Here we go. You thought.

_____

No more restraints, but Armando still joined the backseat of this car that night and small luggage occupied your trunk.

“If she calls from any bullshit, you're dealing with me.” Mike handles the warning for Aretas and still protected you.

“Same rule applies.” Marcus also stepped up. “I made the suggestion, but don't make me knock you out. She's like family.”

“Back off.” Armando grumbled from his spot while sitting in your car. “I'm not stupid.”

“Open the back door right now and whoop his ass, Mike!” Marcus nearly erupted over Armando talking back.

“Stop arguing. Can I leave?!” You finally roll down the driver's seat window, pissed.

“Go.” Mike then lifted both hands to absolutely surrender, watching your car exit.

_____

Organizing essentials at home, you straightened up the guest room while Armando waited.

“Everything's set up whenever you're ready.” You find Aretas looking downstairs, mainly focused on pictures.

You loved ones gathered different snapshots around the living room. Even Mike and Marcus invited special moments through photographs.

“Oh, hey. Thanks.” Armando realizes your presence.

“Of course, but I have a question.” You look near Aretas.

“Sure.” He waited again.

“Before Mike cut us off, what did you plan to say at the prison?” You seemed curious.

“I wanted your phone number.” Aretas flirted right back.

“No chance.” You scoffed. “By tomorrow, Mike should come back here and you'll be gone.”

“Fair enough. Good night.” Armando dropped this conversation and headed upstairs, leaving you.

_______

The next day, you're kind enough to make breakfast and share that kitchen table with Armando.

“Mike just texted me. Everything's packed?” You cleaned up this space.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Armando clipped the response once more and didn't talk much otherwise.

“You're welcome. See you around.” You at least bid farewell. Aretas would still join AMMO sooner than later.

Heading outside, you watch Mike's classic Porsche roll up.

“Good. Armando didn't burn your shit down last night.” Mike jokes with you when leaving the car.

“Don't kill each other.” You kept squinting through the Florida heat.

“Sin promesas, cariño.” Armando pulled his native language of Spanish.

“Hey!” Mike gasped upon realization. Even you cracked up watching both men bicker when the Porsche left your home.

Father and son indeed.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

How Difficult Can It Be?

Chapter 1

“You should be at the Planet now.”

“Hello to you too, Bruce,” Superman said, gliding next to him. Bruce had slipped into the cave as soon as Dick left for school, to find out who had taken the photos at the gala and what connection he had with Vicky. 

He had called Lucius to tell him that he would be late for the meeting, but the man had told him not to worry and that everything was under control.

He would like to think more about his civilian life, but by now Bruce was obsessed. How could this have happened?

He was always so careful, how could someone have missed him? He had to find out.

He was so focused on the computer that he barely listened to Superman say, “…so now Lois is going to cover for me with Perry. That's how I got there first.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, nodding. There were several photographers at the party, but the photo was not of any of them. It certainly wasn't made by a cell phone or by someone trying their hand at it amateurally, so...

Superman's voice came to him calmly but decisively, "What have you decided to do?"

He blinked, once, twice, “What?”

The other man shook his head, but smiled good-naturedly at him (it should be illegal to smile like that, as if your face wouldn't hurt afterwards), “For the article and the photo, Bruce.”

“I'm looking for the author of the photo,” he said, pointing to the computer. Vicky won't like that someone hacked into her email again, but maybe it will teach her not to put Clark on the front page without thinking about the consequences.

“And the article? Because Lois is willing to interview you to get a denial, and she's sure she'll be taken more seriously and..."

“It won't be necessary,” he reassured him, putting his hand at his side. He had just felt a slight twinge. How painful it was to be hugged by Dick first and pretend he wasn't hurting like a dog. But he certainly couldn't make the boy go away without a hug first: he would think he had done something wrong and he would be sad, and Bruce didn't want to make him cry.

"Oh?" Superman raised an eyebrow. “Is your PR already dealing with this? Lois will be disappointed.”

"Neither. There will be no denials.”

“Huh?”

Bruce turned to him, "I want to introduce you to Dick..."

“Um…yes, actually it was time…”

“…as my boyfriend.”

Superman was silent. It was a very long and very embarrassing moment (at least for one of the people present), then he decided to ask, "You want me to do what?!"

"Introduce your as my boyfriend to Dick," Bruce said simply, as if he wasn't asking his best friend to pretend to be having a relationship. “It doesn't even have to last that long. We will tell him that things didn't work out but that we intend to remain friends, that way you can come to the Manor without arousing suspicion.”

“Yes, I'm going to need more context here and…Bruce, please look at me while we talk.”

The human took a deep breath, and turned his chair towards Superman. He was in very poor condition, he hadn't shaved and had hair sticking out everywhere. His t-shirt was loose, revealing a large portion of his shoulder, and his gym pants left part of his stomach exposed.  But Superman looked at him and felt like he had been punched in the stomach by Metallo. 

"Well?" Bruce said impatiently. “What do you want to know?”

“How about you tell me why the hell I should pretend to be your boyfriend to your adopted son?” Superman asked, his mouth feeling very dry and strangely itchy again.

And Bruce, master tactician, did it with a single sentence, "This way I don't have to tell him I'm Batman."

Silence again. Then, as if shaken out of his torpor, Superman blurted out a sincere and heartfelt, “Bruce…what the hell?!”

[seris-circle]

The Other Woman Pt. II

drew starkey x femreader

Warnings: ER, Pregnancy, Hospitalization, swearing

Sirens blared in the distance as you were wheeled through the emergency department doors. The paramedics were able to calm your nerves on the ride over and you were now nursing the oxygen like it was in unlimited supply. Because of the distress and grand entrance, you became the priority to the medical staff, entering a room immediately. As the nurses began connecting your monitors, your mother took it into her own hands to call drew with your phone, see if that sends a sense of urgency his way. It took about three tries but on the second ring of the third call, there was an answer…

Drew’s POV

The sounds of tourists, shop-goers, and mopeds surround me as I wait for the server to come back around with the food. The shoot was canceled for today, so I wanted to take as a day to just stay in due to the increasing Italian heat but Odessa convinced me to join her and tyler for lunch. I was a bit hesitant due to the call with y/n last night but I’ve spent a comfortable part of my downtime here alone so I might as well enjoy some company.

When we did arrive at the restaurant though, I realized my cell was dead so odessa offered to charge it for me. She took it and connected it to the wireless pod in her bag, keeping it from the sunlight. It wasn’t until after coming out of the bathroom that I heard my ringer go off. When I heard it though it sent me into an immediate panic because I have off for everyone except y/n and seeing as it is 2 am her time didn’t seem right. I walked over as quickly but as casually as possible. Finally reaching the table, i grabbed my phone out of odessa’s bag and answered it.

“Hello?” i answered with a slight confusion as to why y/n would be calling this early/late.

“Drew, this is y/m/n. Why the hell have you not answered your phone?” she said in the most stern mother-in-law tone you could imagine.

“What do mean? Who’s been calling?” I responded, looking down at my notification queue and seeing 5 missed calls from danica and 2 from y/n. “Aw, I just saw. My phone was on silent for everyone except of y/n and i’ve been out to lunch. What's going on?”

“Good to know you still have some priority over your family, but you're going to have to cut that little lunch date short, y/n in the hospital, its the baby.” she continued on the other line.

“What? What do you mean, its too early for anything to be happening?” I began to become frantic over the line.

“That's what we all thought but guess not. So get on the earliest flight you can find before I fly over there myself and get you here because my baby will not go through this without the person that put her in this whole situation.” y/m/n basically was screaming under that whisper at this point.

“Ye- yeah. I’ll see you soon” I choked out. She scoffed before speaking up again, but I hung up without even realizing it. This can’t be happening. I’m not ready, its not time. The baby isn’t ready. My sweet angel can’t come yet, I have to be there to see her and hold y/n hand as she does. y/n. She’s all alone. She can’t do this all alone, without me. I don’t think i could forgive myself. I gather my thoughts and bring myself back to the conversation.

“I need to go now… here’s 20 for my portion of the bill and tell the kitchen crew to toss my food,” I said with slight panic in my tone. I shuffled to put my wallet back in my bag while the others just stared.

“Why the rush, we haven’t even gotten our food yet?” Odessa said. I looked down at her and thought.

“It's y/n. Why didn’t you answer my phone when it rang… twice?” I questioned. She just smirked and shrugged with a sense of guilt. “You know what, it doesn’t matter now. Right now I have to go catch the first flight out to LA before my daughter is born. Bye, thank you for coming, enjoy the city” I tried to get out as I maneuvered my way out of the restaurant.

As soon as i got to my apartment, i booked the first flight out not even realizing I had an hour to catch it. I grabbed all of my “necessities” and booked it out to my uber.

Regular POV

You sat in the small hospital room, strapped up to monitors, and bump out. The doctors had taken the oxygen and gave you something to relieve the stress and calm you down.

“Mamaaaa” you whined out to your mother who was walking back in from her phone call.

“What's up sweetheart?” your mother asked, joining you by your side.

“Where’s drew? Did you get a hold of him?” you said.

“Yes, he is on his way. Don’t worry, I already tore him a new one so don’t stress about yelling at him.” She smiled back at you. You held her hand and had a moment of comfort before a doctor came in.

“Hello hello. I am Dr. Hoffman” the white-coated gentleman introduced himself with a welcoming hand. He proceeded to examine you until speaking up again. “So your scans and blood came back good so nothing too wrong but you are in labor. Baby is in a good position but you are only 2 cm dilated. I’m going to admit you through until you are ready and then we can get this baby out. We will have someone to move you up to our maternity unit and get you more privacy.” Hoffman finished and walked out.

You began to cry, from the pain and the fact that you’re all alone. You have to endure this for however long it takes your body to dilate another 8 cm. Though you were way too emotional from all of that, you knew to not get too worked up because of the stress it would topple onto the pile that your body was already under.

Drew’s POV

Hours have passed and my flight was done. Those 13 hours were horrible. A middle seat between a woman with a crying baby and a guy that slept the whole time. I know it was last minute and all but I feel that the baby was a sign. The worst flight of my life was because of something that I was going into myself, parenthood. You could say it was karma too for not answer my phone. I know how y/n feels about Odessa and sometimes I feel that Odessa’s jealous of me and y/n but I still keep her around. I was pissed at her last night for getting completely obliterated and interrupting y/n and I but I let it go but this afternoon was something else. I felt somewhere deep down she did it purposely. Because of her I could’ve missed the birth of my child and left y/n all by herself. I still could do that because of how late I am.

As soon as I got off that plane, I ran though LAX and outside to get an Uber. I’m running on no sleep, jet lag, and the stress of becoming a parent at any moment. Anyone who gets in my way or even near to delaying me any more would get no mercy.

“LA General and step on it please, I’m about to have a baby” I sort of demanded as I stepped into the Uber. The driver looked at me with sympathy and did as he was told. Hopefully I can make it, time is slipping away.

Regular POV

“Fuuuck!” You screamed out as you reached the end of the hallway. The doctors had you walking for the last 11 hours to get you to 10 cm. What they didn’t do is give you any meds that you felt were working. The contractions were now 2 minutes apart and you felt like this baby was about to fall out of your vagina. You stood crouched in the corner with your mom’s hand in yours. Danica had to leave due to not being immediate family and drew was still no where to be seen.

“Sweetheart… it’s ok, just keeping breathing. I will go get the doctor” your mother reassured as she left you there basically dry heaving from the pain induced nausea. Seconds later you were brought back to your room.

“Guess what mama, you’re about to have your baby. You’re at 9cm which means we can start pushing” your labor and deliver nurse said with a smile. You smiled through your pain but it wasn’t all there. You still didn’t have drew by your side and the baby was a bit to be born.

Minutes later you were all set up and getting ready to push. You did it without an epidural too because it had worn off and it was too late for them to administer another.

“Ready y/n, on three I want you to push with all your strength.” The OB said. You looked at your mom, squeezed her hand and nodded. “1….2…3 push!” You screamed a wide push out. She had you continue. The pain so bad you thought you could have passed out.

When you swore that you were about to black out completely, a larger hand took yours. Slightly callused yet soft. A hand you could know from anywhere. You opened your eyes and were met with Drew’s.

“I told you I would miss this.” Drew said softly tearing up slightly with a smile. You smiled back and held on to his hand tightly.

You let a couple more pushes out and then all you heard were the soft cries of your babygirl.

“It’s a girl! Congratulations mom and dad, she’s gorgeous” the OB said with a smile. The baby was brought to your chest and you and drew took in this moment together. Kissing each other for the first time in weeks with your baby. You both cried so hard, but they were all happy tears. So happy that you had forgave Drew’s late behavior.

“I love you so much” drew said smiling at you. You didn’t say anything, all you did was kiss him.

It had been a couple hours since the baby was born. You were sleeping as drew sat with the baby. You woke up turning to face him. He was sitting there in awe staring at the mini you, rocking back and forth. You knew that he was more in love with her than he would ever be with you and that made you the happiest you had ever been. As you sat up completely, he noticed bringing the newborn towards you. The three of you were together until your mother had walked in with Danica.

“ hello hello hello! My little girl with her little girl” she said coming towards you. She be at done to kiss your cheek.

“Soooo, what is the little bug’s name?” Danica asked looking back and forth between you and drew. You looked at drew, nodding him off to let him say the honors.

“Well… we would like you to meet Isabel Eva Starkey” drew said with the biggest smile. Danica and your mother cried happy tears as they came and hugged you both.

As your stay lasted for the next few days, you welcomed friends and family from both side. You were content now. You had your own little family now and to have drew be apart of that was all you needed.

The End

A/N: I’m so sorry this came out late. I’ve been so swamped with work and genuinely mentally drained. This may not be good because it all just came to me at once and I struggled to organize it. Hopefully you like it and thank you for reading!!!

Tagged: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @one-sweet-gubler @runningfrom2am @ayoanna @crazyf0robx @brooklynscherry-z @ireadficsthenifallasleep @simpfomarvel @willowalexissss

[parkswritessometimes]

Sunday X Marvin

It’s been almost twelve hours without a text from Marvin. Usually, he’d respond within minutes of a message. A little emoji or acknowledgment that he was alive. But nothing. No response from the good morning text he sent when he woke up. Usually, Marvin was the one who woke up early and Sunday would wake up to a cute morning image of Higgins or a bedheaded, shirtless Marvin, but no message today. 

“You good, Kit-Kat?” Sunday types hitting send before his anxieties get the better of him. Marv was probably just too engrossed in a book to even acknowledge their phone. It’s happened before on a handful of occasions, but they always replied within a few hours with an apology or an excuse or something. 

But Sunday can’t stop this gut feeling that something was wrong. That something was wrong. He’s been getting that feeling a lot lately. Especially since the twins rose to power in the magic circle. This twisting feeling in his soul, in his magic. But this was so specific to Marvin like a magnetic force pulling him towards his friend.    

And it’s not like Marvin was going to ask for help if he needed it. Marvin has always been far too prideful for that. Raised by absent parents and a semi-sane mentor who could never be understood by anyone but Marvin, he was always destined to be an aloof person. It probably didn’t help that they were bullied for several years before Sunday came into the picture. 

Sunday was also an outsider always working twice as hard to keep up with the advanced classes he was put in. Magic always seemed to come so easy for everyone else. He’s lucky that he made the cut for the Magic Circle. It would have been so easy to cast him aside and label him a dud, but he was given a single chance. Same with Marvin.

It took a lot of time for Marvin to open up. Lots of shared candy bars, healing magic, repairing uniforms with his more practical sewing skills before Marvin even told Sunday his name. But over time Sunday could feel Marvin slowly opening up. Ivy creeping up his ivory walls until it flooded his heart. 

Now they’re 28 and living life, Marvin had a bookstore that never seemed to be open and Sunday worked for the Magic Circle, always one of the first people to be in the loop. And as much as it annoyed the higher-ups, Marvin was always the first one to know what was going on. It was a good thing the two of them had going on. 

Late-night phone calls that only ended when one of them fell asleep, cute photos, and inside jokes. Nicknames and practice kisses. And yeah their heart always skipped a beat or two or just flat-out stop when Marvin would lay their head in their lap, or hold his hand. But it was fine. Marvin was always skipping from person to person, never sticking with one partner for more than six months. Bar hookups, tinder profile pictures, bumble notifications, that always broke his heart just a little bit. But what was he going to do? Marvin was having fun and Sunday didn’t want to ruin their fun. 

Maybe that’s where Marvin was, on a date or he slept over at a guy’s house and forgot a charger. But still, that didn't feel right.

Sunday looks back down at their phone. No notification. Okay, time for a wellness check. 

“I’m coming over if you don’t text me in the next three seconds.”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“On my way. I’ll bring sushi as a peace offering.” 

Sunday grabs their favorite green cloak throwing it over their shoulder and goes out into London’s warm Summer night. 

—---

Sunday knocks on the door, okay more like pounds, trying to get Marvin’s attention. He wedges his cell phone between his ear and shoulder and listens to the ring over and over again before getting the standard “leave a message”.

“Vin, Kit-Kat, it’s me. Open up. I bring gifts and if you don’t open up I’m gonna portal up to your apartment. So do us both a favor and let me in!” He kicks the door a few more times to send a message before hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket. Sunday looks up at the flat, the lights are on which is a good sign at the very least. He sighs yanking his bear charm free from his neck letting his mask form on his face. Magic wasn’t exactly allowed in public without a permit but he’s technically on Marvin’s property. He won’t get nicked for that. Hopefully.  The portal revealing Marvin’s room appears and he steps through closing the portal behind him. 

Higgin’s little merp and rub against his thighs settle some of his nerves but the main problem still remains. His mask swirls back into the necklace on his chest and the golden magic fades from his fingertips as his he pets Marvin’s little familiar. 

“Hey, Higgy. Where’s Marvin? You gonna lead me to him?” 

Higgins jumps up on the bed ignoring Sunday’s request. Typical little cat. Sunday pushes the door open wandering out into Marvin’s kitchen and living room. Notes, pictures, and drawings line the walls looking like the workings of a madman. And in the middle of it all Marvin, still in his pajamas, pacing around the room.

“Uh, Marv? You there mate?” Sunday asks, but Marvin keeps pacing and muttering to himself. Sunday sets the dinner down on the countertop and walks over the scattered pages of Marvin’s writing. Slowly, carefully with each step Sunday moves forward trying not to mess up any of Marvin’s work. Their hand finally finds their way to Marvin’s shoulder and in an instant, Marvin’s mask is on and lighting in his hands. 

“Woah! Hey! Hey! Marvin! It’s me! It’s me.” Sunday says throwing their hands up.

“Sunday. Sunday…Sunny.” Marvin says, almost as if he’s in a trance. 

“Yeah, Kit-Kat. It’s me. It’s Sunny.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I used a portal and you weren’t answering your phone. I got worried.”

The fogginess in Marvin’s eyes clear and they flash into so many emotions going from fear to sadness to anger all within seconds. 

"I don't need your help, Sunday." Marvin’s green eyes drill into Sundays. And for anyone else, this would probably strike fear into their souls. But not Sunday. Sunday knows that look. It’s not true anger, if it was he’d be on fire. It’s that pride getting in his way. The fear that if he opens up he’ll be left alone on the porch begging for someone, anyone to stay. He has to push everyone so far away that his heart will never bleed like that again.

"Yeah, I know, kit-kat. You don’t need anyone’s help." Sunday whispers in a soothing tone taking a step forward. Marvin may growl and snarl like a feral cat from time to time but Sunday knows him better than anyone, including Marvin himself. He was just tired and clearly scared of something going on. Whatever he found must have truly shaken him to the core.

“Don’t say it in that fucking tone Sunday. Why the fuck are you even here? Did the twins send you? Because you can tell them-"

 "I came because I was worried. So can you just sit down for five minutes and let me bring you the dinner I bought before Higgins eats it?” Sunday’s golden glow wraps around their fingertips and rests against Marvin’s face. Their thumb go up and down their beard as they try to soothe Marvin. 

“Sunny…”

“It’s sushi, and I know you have some good wine. Let me get us some glasses and you can tell me what's going on.”

“Probably skip the wine.”

“Vinny, did you not eat this morning?”

“I think so? I can’t remember.”

“Okay, let's sit down.” Sunday grabs his friend’s hand and guides him down to the couch. Marvin’s head instantly rests against Sunday’s chest and Sunday finds his hand in his friend's long brown hair. “Do you want to talk first or eat?”

“What did you bring?”

“Sushi.”

“I want to eat first.”

“Okay, kit-kat. Let me grab the food.” Marvin squeezes him closer, refusing to let him get up from his spot. Sunday sighs knowing that he isn’t going anywhere. He opens a small portal allowing the food to fall through and onto the coffee table in front of them. 

“I got California rolls, rainbow rolls, and some salmon nigiri.” 

“You spoil me, Sunny.” 

“I know.” Sunday begins to unpack all the takeout from the plastic bag laying it all out on the table. He hands Marvin a pair of chopsticks and lets him dig in. With Marvin off of him, he gets up and goes back to the kitchen. He grabs a glass from his friend’s cabinet and fills it to the brim with cold water. 

“You want me to grab Higgins?”

“No, that’s okay. He’d just get lost in the papers anyway.”

“Yeah, I was gonna ask you about that.”

“It’s all my notes, I’m trying to decipher some of them.”

“Why? Aren’t they your notes?”

“Yes, but I can’t remember writing some of them.”

“Well, you’ve written so many it doesn’t surprise me you’ve forgotten some of them.” Sunday sets the cold glass in front of Marvin and nudges him towards it. 

“No that’s not the issue, the issue was they were wiped from my memory.” 

Sunday shakes his head and jolts back in surprise. Ras has been wiping Marvin’s memories? Thats-why would he do that? He practically raised Marvin. The Magic Circle has always said that he was dangerous and an outsider. Breaking the rules of magic and not conforming to the laws set in place to keep the world safe, but mental magic? On Marvin? That’s almost too much to bear. No wonder Marvin got so angry. His trust must be shattered on the floor in a million pieces. 

“Ras has been using mental magic on you?! We gotta report this! You can stay at my house until the council has him imprisoned.” 

“What no! Sunday! Ras hasn’t been tampering with my memories. The Circle has been.”

The Circle? No. They were a bit…shifty but what governmental organization isn’t?! Members of parliament and even the prime minister took bribes and did some shady stuff and they were in charge of the country! Don’t even get him started on the mess that was America's government system. But there's no way that The Magic Circle was doing something like that to its members. To Marvin. To Him.   

“Marvin, I think-”

Marvin yanks off his necklace and lets his cat mask form in his hand. The green ethereal glow signaled that some enchantment had been left on it.

“I have it recorded. The twins, they took so much away from us, Sunny. Just look.”

Sunday takes the mask and places it on his face. Green-tinted visions of the past come before his eyes. That’s him in the corner, looking over at Marvin, but he definitely doesn’t remember this. A dead body on a slab with the twins matching fox masks firmly on their faces. Their muffled voices told them to leave the room and like the good peons they were, they left. 

“We’ve reached the limits of what direct observation can show us.”

“Even magical observation is insufficient.”

“Necromancy then.”

The twins cast a spell causing the body to rise up. Sunday’s never seen anything like it. He’s always been told something like this was illegal except in the hands of the authorities. People with permits and power. He couldn’t even pay attention to the answers the body was giving, too shocked by the twin's actions to do anything. 

The body collapses back on the table and Sunday almost does as well. But just when he thought the worst was over.

“We might use Mind’s Eye.” One of them says. Mind’s Eye was one of the most dangerous spells that could be cast on such a body. The Malia it takes could easily drain that of the corpses and the users, leaving everyone involved just dust on the floor. 

“The risk would be enormous.”

“To lesser magicians than we.”

“Very well we do need answers.”

“There remains malia sufficient in the husk to achieve it once.”

The twins touch their fingers to the corpse's skull letting the purple mist swirl around the room chaotically. Sunday can’t make out the images but he knows in his soul it’s bad. The body screams out like it’s dying again before crumbling to ash. 

The twins put their masks back on allowing everyone to rejoin them. Sunday and Marvin are the first to come in but still, Sunday can not remember even being in this room.

Sunday is all but helpless to watch as Marvin picks up his mask as the twins talk.

“We learned much from this vessel, but little of substance.”

“The circumstances of its death were byzantine and inconsequential.”

“A matter of science. Nothing with which to trouble ourselves. Whatever happened to this man does not concern the magic circles. We needn’t investigate further.”

“You needn’t even remember what transpired here.”

The twins chat to cast a spell and just like that the memory is gone. The recording stops and Sunday takes the mask off of his face. 

They took their memories. 

They took his memories.

They took Marvin’s memories. 

Over a man who died to science?! Over something so simple and inconsequential?! What did they erase that was important?! Did they erase a full days months or even years from his head?! How could they do something like that?!

“Marv, what the hell are we going to do? Can we get those memories back?! I can’t- What else did they take from us?!” Could they take larger pieces? Could they take whole people out of the memory? Could they take relationships? When was the limit where they couldn’t touch the memories?! 

“I don’t know. I have regained a few memories they took but that’s only because Ras drilled it in me to record my notes and journal my days. I’m trying to fill the gaps but I think most of them are gone.”

“Shit Marv. What are we going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know. Start recording with our masks? Compare notes?”

“That’s a start I suppose.” 

Marvin takes his spot back in Sunday’s chest and Sunday holds him tight. But it doesn’t stop the intense flood of anxiety coursing through his body. Pumped by the growing beat of his heart. 

Forgetting Marvin would be like forgetting his own name, his own being. They were so intertwined there was no way they could make them forget each other. Right? They surely couldn’t rip each other away. They would have done that years ago with Marvin and Ras. The twins never kept it a secret that they hated the man and constantly pushed Marvin to ditch his mentor. But Marvin was too stubborn, too loyal to even consider that an option.  

He looks back down at his friend only to find him asleep, all curled up in their lap. Sunday smiles and traces over Marvin’s tattoos with their finger. 

“No one will take me from you Marvin. I promise. No matter what.” They plant a little kiss on Marvin’s forehead and shuffle to a more comfortable position on the couch. No use in fighting it, he was gonna spend the night on the couch with Marvin. Not the first time this has happened and certainly not the last. He leans over and grabs a blanket from off the floor and drapes it over the two of them. 

Sunday wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep, still processing the huge mind fuck that the Magic Circle was doing this. And Marvin’s notes and research were within arms reach; he might as well catch up on what Marvin found. His fingertips find a large leather-bound book and pull it closer. Colorful tabs dot the pages probably signifying different spells he needed. 

Sunday opens it up to the first tab to find Marvin’s handwriting. No mention of spells or anything. Sunday immediately closes it and sets it down on Marvin’s back. Not today. There has to be something else he can read to get caught up on all this a spell book or something. But all of the notes around him seem to be in Marvin’s messy cursive writing. 

And then something catches his eye. One of the tabs on Marvin's journal had a little sun and a heart. He rarely lets curiosity get the best of him, that was more Marvin’s department, but he has to know what the little doodle of his nickname was doing there. He opens the book back up and begins to read the tabbed page.

I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna ask Sunny out after this meeting. I know we’re already kinda going out but I’m gonna make it official with him today. I’m in love with him and I’m sure he’s in love with me. Just gotta finish this meeting. I’m pretending to take notes but it's so dreadfully boring. I swear the twins are the stiffest people you’ll ever meet in your lifetime. 

Sunday doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the tear hits the page and smudges the ink. Did they take away that moment? Did they even allow them to have it? It’s not like Sunday could remember it. But he can just imagine it. Marvin just blurts out their feelings and he just goes red with embarrassment as Marvin uses sweet words until they kiss. 

And Magic Circle just took it away like it was nothing. 

Did Marvin know? He had to, he marked it after all. But…fuck. Did they take more moments like that away from them? How many times did they confess only to have the Magic Circle have it erased? 

Sunday wipes the tears away and takes another deep breath. He looks back down at Marvin and traces his finger across his jaw. He looks so peaceful right now. And as much as he wants to wake him up and tell him that he’s right, that he’s in love with him, that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together. It can wait. One big revelation at a time.

Sunday gives him one more kiss on the head and pulls the blanket up to Marvin’s shoulders. Both of them are gonna need sleep if they’re gonna figure out how to save their memories from future tampering. 

“Goodnight Marvin. I love you.”

-----

I don't usually write shippy stuff but here y'all go!

----

Tag List:

@kalcifers-blog

@the3rddenialist

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 7

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: We're just working away here, folks. I appreciate everyones feedback and support so far. Thank ya'll for your patience, as you can probably tell that I am a slow burn writer.

2.6K Word Count

Ch. 7: Fall Down Before Me, I Want You on Your Knees

The next few days were filled with you just trying to occupy your mind, and keep the nagging memories of your time in the military at bay. While the Army had given you the supreme drive and aggressive, Type-A mentality that got you where you were to today, it wasn’t without cost. Your PTSD is currently at an all time high, and your coping skills have always been sub par. You learned the unfortunate method of pushing all your feelings and unwanted memories deep down within, and when one bubbled up, it was like an eruption. More and more followed suit.

It was now Saturday, and you had obsessively cleaned, finished the mechanical tasks for your car, and worked out to the brink of near exhaustion. You were now sitting on the sofa, slouched so far down that your ass was barely even on the sofa cushion, and you were just playing with your fingers, staring into space. The thought had crossed your mind that you should maybe drive into town a day early, so your could relax at the apartment for a day before work, but you just couldn’t pull yourself to get up and drive for 14 hours. Your cell phone ringing is what brought you out of your stupor, as you stared over at it like it could comprehend your unease at it snapping you out of your fog. 

Groaning as you rose off the sofa, you got up and grabbed the phone, tapping the answer button and raising it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You questioned the person on the other line. You were fully anticipating no one contacting you before your expected return to work, since it had already been a few days since you last talked to someone. You hadn’t even used your voice for the last few days, so the rasp and crackle in your voice surprised you. You’re still somewhat dazed and in your own mind to realize you picked up a restricted phone call. 

“Y/L/N.” An eerily familiar voice boomed through the receiver. “I know you know about me by now.” This statement sent your mind spiraling, you knew it was a matter of time before he contacted you. Especially if he already knew where your apartment was, and that you had a home somewhere in McCall. The fact that he had already crossed your path twice showed just how efficient he had been at tracking you when given the task. 

“Yeah, I’ve know for a while.” You played it off cooly, trying to make it seem like you’ve known about him just as long as he has known about you. “Didn’t get enough the first time or what?” His dark laugh sent a shiver down your spine. The power that this man held over you was unreal. He wasn’t even in the military anymore. But it was almost like that made him more dangerous than before. Now, he really doesn’t have much to loose. He had spiraled off the deep end- multiple trips to jail, daddy presumably buying his way out, just for him to rinse and repeat, Who knows all that this man had really done. 

“Good. I always knew you were smart. I hope you’re ready, my client is willing to spare no expense to ensure vermin are exterminated. I hope you and your little toy are prepared.” He made sure to emphasize the tail end of his statement, before hanging up the phone. He kept it brief, knowing that you could trace his calls. You weren’t sure if he was talking about you, or Scarlett, or both, but his statement had you reeling. But this was not going to be fun, or easy for anyone involved. You slammed your phone down on the counter, running up the stairs to grab a bag for clothes. You threw a few outfits into the bag, and settled on a grey v-neck shirt, a black members only coat and black jeans with your black dress sneakers. You rushed through your belongings, grabbing what you felt you needed for the week, and threw the green duffle over your shoulder, glancing down at your watch. 10:39PM. “Shit, Kris will kill me if I call her this late.” You think to yourself.  You shrug it off, running over the skyway to your garage, going straight to the lockbox that held all the keys for the cars. Grabbing the familiar black ‘TRX’ key fob, you remote started the matte green pickup, jogging down the stairs and towards the roaring truck. 

“Hey, Siri?” You called out as you got into the truck, it had already connected to your phone. 

“Hmm?” The familiar AI voice rang over the speakers. 

“Call Kris Smith, please.”

“Calling Kris Smith.” The voice called out, as the dial tone began to ring. You romped the truck forward, pressing the button to close the garage door behind you, and speeding down your driveway. The dial tone kept ringing, and ringing.  “C’mon, Kris. Answer!” You yell at the trucks radio screen, before the other line finally picks up. 

“Y/N, there better be a good reason for calling this late, you know I get up early…” Kris had clearly been in a deep sleep, her voice a few octaves lower than normal, with a rasp that rivaled Miley Cyrus. “What the hell are you calling me for?”

“Kris, we have a problem. I’m not going to talk about it on the phone, but I’m driving now. I just left McCall, I will be in LA tomorrow around lunch time. Can you meet me?” Your frustration and mild anxiety clearly coming through the line.

“What…what the hell is going on?” She asked, slightly more awake now that she had picked up on your panic. 

“I can’t explain it all over the phone. We will need to discuss in person. Just meet me at the office tomorrow afternoon. Please.” You state, hanging up before giving her a chance to rebut. You don’t know why, but you had a feeling that your apartment wasn’t the safest place to be right now, so the office was going to become your temporary home. You were flying down the familiar road that lead you in and out of your home, but in your haste, failed to notice the all black sedan that was sitting at the fork in the road where your driveway met with your closest neighbors. 

You had driven just less than a third of the way to LA, having to stop to fill up your gas tank, as well as your own. You popped into a 24/7 convenience store, grabbing some light snacks like jerky and chips, some mini donuts as well as water and a coffee. Making your way back to the truck, you glanced around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary., before climbing into the lifted cab of the vehicle. You had already finished filling up the gas tank, as well as a few gas cans as well. You knew you were about to hit a stretch of the trip where gas stations weren’t going to be available at this time of night, and the last thing you would need is to run out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in between Idaho and California. As you opened the coffee, and opened the package of donuts, you noticed a very dark looking vehicle pull into the pump station, a few pumps away, You pay it no mind at first, but when no one got out of it for a period of time while you ate your snack, your began to question it. “What the hell?” You think to yourself as you watch in the rearview mirror, waiting for some sign of life. You take a picture of the license plate on the vehicle, and finally the door opened, and a stocky man got out of the passenger side, getting ready to fill the car up. You waited for the man to stick the nozzle into the tank, before starting the truck quickly and leaving. You laid into the gas pedal pretty heavy, not trusting anyone at this point and wanting to put some distance between you and anyone else on the road. 

It was just after 6:30AM, and you were now halfway to Los Angeles. You were cruising, passing through the ghost mining towns of Nevada.  You took a sip of your water, glancing in all your mirrors, but your vision froze on the rearview. The same black sedan you had seen at the gas station was just far enough behind you to be barely discernible, but you knew better. “Siri, call Kris.” You bark out to the truck’s infotainment system. The phone starts to ring, and she picks up almost immediately. 

“Morning, sunshine.” She was definitely more awake at this point that earlier. “Having fun out there?”

“Kris, stop it. Listen to me. I need you to look up a license plate for me. I don’t know where this guy has come from, but he’s been with me since the gas station in Wilder, at least.”

“Are you positive? I mean, LA is a big city, and it wouldn’t be unheard of for someone else to be driving here either.” She questioned.

“Kris, in the amount of time I have been making this drive, I have never once, had someone on my tail for this long. Something is up.”

“Fine. What’s the tag?”

“Montana, Bravo, X-Ray, Romeo 566.”

“Hmm… That’s odd.” She clicked her tongue, a clear sign that she was perplexed. 

“What??” Her tone not reassuring you. 

“Are you sure it’s a Montana tag? Nothings coming up.”

“Yes, I’m sure! I have a picture of it.” You look back to see the car maintaining the same distance, not really gaining on you. 

“Well, it isn’t coming back viable. What kind of car is it?”

“It’s a late model Malibu, like a 2015 or so. Black, blacked out windows.”

“Let me do some digging.  Can you send me the picture you took?”

“Yeah, it should be coming across soon.” 

“I’ll let you know if I find anything, Y/N. Let me know if anything changes.” She states, clearly becoming distracted by the task before her.

“Kris?”

“Yeah, Y/L/N?”

“I’m gonna detour. See if this guy follows me, or if he’s really just going towards LA. I’ll be another hour.”

“So around 2-2:30? Are you routing around Reno?”

“Yeah, I think that’s best. I don’t trust these guys.” You state, not signaling but taking the last minute route towards Reno, straying away from your original route. 

“Guys? There’s more than one in the car?” This had clearly grabbed her attention. 

“Yeah, unless the guy decided to climb over the center console and get out of the passenger side to fill his car with gas. But that wouldn’t really help the suspicion factor much.” You state. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. This is starting to smell fishy.” She hung up the phone before you could respond. Of course, if she knew the whole story of this weekend, and the information you had uncovered and remembered, her tone would be entirely different, and she would be reading you the riot act for making this trip alone, let alone not flying the helicopter.  You just hoped that in her digging, you would be able to figure out who the car belonged to. But there was a sneaking suspicion that there wouldn’t be an answer to that. 

You kept a trained eye on your rear view mirror, waiting to see if the car would end up following you towards the smaller casino town.  So far, you hadn’t seen any sign of the vehicle, but you were keeping your head on a swivel. You looked down, noticing that you were close to needing gas again, so you decided to go to a station that was off the main drag through Reno, but still allowed you the view to keep an eye out for the suspicious Malibu. You propped you head up against the side of the truck with your arms, while waiting for the signal that the tank was full.  You looked at the watch on your wrist,  knowing that by this point, you had been driving for almost 9 hours. It was now almost 9 am, and you still had almost 8 hours to go. You had also been up since 4:30 yesterday morning, but with the swirling anxiety, and current state of affairs you had no will to sleep.

Kris still had not reached out with any info, which worried you because you spoke about 3 hours ago. Once the pump clicked off, you walked around, shaking the remaining fuel off the nozzle tip, and placing it back on the pump before shutting the gas door. You looked around again, still not seeing any sign of the mystery sedan, and went inside of the truck stop rest station to grab some more food and a form of liquified energy to keep you going. You glanced up and down the row of coolers, selecting a few energy drinks, another couple of water bottles before stopping by the food cooler to grab yourself a breakfast sandwich and a Lunchable. You were checking out, and examined the people within the truck stop, as well as those outside. You gathered the items for the remainder of your journey, pushing your way out the door as you felt your phone vibrate. You fumbled around with your snacks and beverages, trying to get a hold on your phone, not even paying any mind to the screen, just outright answering with the hopes that Kris had found something out. 

“Tsk tsk tsk… Y/L/N, I think I gave you too much credit.” The strong male voice of Waters came through the receiver again. “I know that you saw me tailing you. If I didn’t want to be seen, then you would have never known. And you don’t think I know where you're going? It doesn’t make a damned difference what route you take, I’ll just meet you there.” His voice crackled through the receiver, letting you know that he is likely about to loose cell service. “Get some rest in Reno, Y/L/N, I’ll be waiting for you in LA.” He gave you no time to respond before hanging up the phone. You set all your drinks and food in the cooler next to you, before throwing your phone on the floor in frustration and slamming your hands into the steering wheel. The process of repeated abuse to the wheel opening the wound on your right hand and causing it to bleed. “Fuck! Not again!” You think to yourself, reaching into the back seat, grabbing the first aid kit that you kept under the bench, and gently rewrapping your hand to encapsulate the blood loss. 

At this point in your journey, you were regretting the choice to not fly into LA- had you done that you would have landed just after midnight, and would have been able to at least rest at the office. But if this prick was coming after Scarlett, and you were conveniently in the cross hairs, this would require immediate attention. You debated calling the actress to see if she had ever really laid eyes on your former Sergeant, but remembered that Kris was the only one besides you that knew about him showing up by your place, and you weren’t ready to divulge this entire story to Paul, Cliff or Scarlett. Not yet. 

(CHAPTER 8)

[lakesparkles]

Longing (chapter 2 - bjhm fanfiction)

(I don't know how to put titles on mobile, in case it looks weird)

Anyways, I finally finished editing the second chapter of my AU fanfic!

You can read it on google docs or under the cut:

Longing

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Diane's routine remains exactly the same, except for the constant presence of Mr. Peanutbutter

—

(I think it would be nice to say, as a warning, that there are a lot of reflections about emotional cheating in the first half of this chapter. But everything will be alright, you’ll understand when you read it ^^’)

"I miss you" the words came out of Mr. Peanutbutter's mouth quickly, as if he would lose courage if he didn't say them in that exact second.

"You saw me, like, last night." Diane shrugged and moved the phone to her other ear, already starting to feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

"I know... Yeah." He laughed to himself, his voice losing its serious tone when he completed. " I need to go back to recording, ehrrrr... now! See you later, Diane!"

Did he really need to say her name like that every time?

"Bye, Mr Peanutbutter."

After disconnecting the call, she continued standing in the same place, trying to regain her concentration.

Texas might be even hotter than California, but even that didn't save it from certain freezing nights. At least it didn't come close to that freezing hell Chicago called winter. It was funny, right? How many places has she once called home?

That thought got her feet moving again, walking down the middle of the street. It had just gotten dark, which meant that was the time her eyes still hadn't gotten used to how bright the shop windows were. Everything got her attention. Her legs shivered in the icy wind, and soon her eyes were caught by the jeans in the store next to her, now being twice as interesting.

The cafeteria next door looked warm and comfortable, the walls painted dark browns and oranges. She was almost dragged inside, only stopping herself because she knew Guy was waiting for her at home - she imagined it well: he would be on the sofa with his feet on the table and the sketchbook in his lap. He would flash his typical smile when he saw her coming, and Diane would quickly remove her boots and coat and slip into her warm pajamas. By the time she was out of the shower, he would’ve prepared two mugs of hot chocolate. The two of them would drink in bed, and Diane would hide again among the fur on his neck, even forgetting the cold.

What was a coffee shop next to that?

She quickened her steps, excited.

When her mind returned to place, she was already facing a window again, almost hypnotized. That was certainly a nice coat... If she was going to buy it, it would be in the future. Now, home! This same thought process happened another 20 times until she reached her destination. As soon as she finished climbing the short staircase leading to her front door, she kicked her boots off her feet. She couldn't wait to stop shivering and be able to breathe without blowing a puff of smoke from her mouth.

Her house was quiet and dark, but none of it was too out of character for it. Guy always used to arrive around that time, staying in the room until he stopped being too lazy to do anything else. So Diane walked with calm steps into the room, not surprised by the sight she found:

Her husband had the sketchbook on his lap, but it nearly fell off his knee. He was far more interested in what he was typing on his cell phone, letting out a small chuckle to himself. Only then did he noticed her presence:

"Diane! Babe, it's too cold today, isn't it?"

She didn't need another word to understand the invitation:

"Very…" She mumbled, lazily crawling under the covers beside him. Changing clothes could wait a little while. The bath too. This was the moment she'd been waiting for all day, already feeling her body heat up completely as she made herself comfortable and started rubbing her cheek against Guy's shoulder.

"Do you have any theories about what the movie Mr Peanutbutter is shooting is? He doesn't want to tell me!" Guy commented, with even better humor than usual.

Oh, sure. Mr Peanutbutter.

Diane curled up a little to answer, yawning and stretching her legs out from under the covers one second, only to curl back up like a cat the next.

She couldn't get away from it, could she?

"He didn't tell me anything about it either," she shrugged, "but I think it's kind of obvious."

"It's a horror movie, isn't it!?"

"For sure! I guess it's even a sequel to some other famous franchise."

Guy took that as the confirmation he needed, perking up and getting back to typing. Out of the corner of her eye, Diane caught a few written words: "The Ring 5?"; "It 3?"; "No, I don't think it's this one"; "But it's horror."

Mr Peanutbutter responded at the exact second: "No more guesses!!!", "They'll kill me if this gets out!! :(".

She should stop being so nosy!

Her stomach lurched when she noticed that Guy was already laughing again.

"You and my ex husband having any intimacy was not in my bingo of bizarre things that would happen to me" she tried to make a joke to lighten the mood… for herself.

"Well, he's here all the time now."

Yeah, she couldn't deny it.

The presence of that yellow dog became a constant another time, and that wasn't something you could prepare for.

During the last few years, she found herself thinking about Mr Peanutbutter from time to time. Usually it happened on nights when she couldn't sleep and lost control of her thoughts. Or when everything went bad again, and her mind found confusing and desperate solutions for any kind of comfort.

She had already accepted that guilt was a feeling that would always accompany her when she was around her ex-husband.

Now the longing mixed and started several other reflections.

Since she'd moved from California, she'd learned what it was like to genuinely miss someone. A faint smile broke out when she saw a rare selfie posted by Princess Carolyn. She perked up every time Todd and Maude made a sudden visit, bringing with them another chaotic day that she was growing increasingly unaccustomed to.

With Mr. Peanutbutter... It was a little different. With him everything always was.

Every time he texted her or dropped by her house to watch another obscure movie with Guy... Diane learned something new about longing. It was like she was living her story with someone for a second time.

She would never forget the time she met the dog. She was walking alone in her apartment, completely silly, while the two chatted on MySpace. He was kind and happy and so different from anyone else she had ever met. Gradually, she began to open up more to him, who always seemed interested in listening and praising her and making her feel good in her own skin. It was an almost addictive feeling, her head feeling light as she felt a small hope inside of her.

Conversations turned to dates, and Diane finally accepted that a celebrity was really interested in someone like her. Someone, in general, was interested in her. Yeah, it was a good thing to think about. When she realized it, she had already moved in with him and lived the ten most bittersweet years of her existence, in which she was relieved that they were over, but which she didn't regret for a second.

Things weren't so different these days, which was why she was worried. Part of her -the most selfish one- almost begged for the shooting of that shitty movie to end so that she would never have to look that labrador in the eyes again. Because she didn't know how to react anymore every time Mr Peanutbutter complimented her new hairstyle or said he missed her.

It was an old feeling. So old it fooled her into thinking it was something new. And that made her nervous.

She let her head fall back onto Guy's shoulder, who was still distracted by his messages, seeming to be having the conversation of his life. What would he do if he knew what she was thinking? She thought it was time to accept a truth about herself, letting all these feelings hurt as much as they should:

It didn't matter if she was talking about Mr Peanutbutter or Guy: she had never been a very good wife...

•∆•

Things were always easier after acceptance. This was the last phase, above all.

Now she opened the door when Mr. Peanutbutter came to visit after the shooting, greeting him with a comment or a joke. He smiled every time, his eyes glued on her and the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. In the background, she could hear Guy saying how he had prepared cookies - "with no chocolate!"

On second thought, maybe she and Guy were bored before that. The adrenaline of a new city had long since worn off, and they didn't have much to worry about outside of work. Guy had been promoted to news anchor, and Diane still had ten months to release the next volume of Ivy Tran. It was almost inevitable how long she took to write, spending most of her days boringly watching TV, walking around or dozing on the couch until her husband got home.

With Mr Peanutbutter there most nights now, she at least had new information to occupy her mind:

"Everything went wrong today, not even if we had recorded a sequel to 2012 by Roland Emmerich it would have been so catastrophic!" The dog commented as he deliberately shook his shoulders, heading to sit on the sofa (feeling as much at home as he could).

Intrigued, Diane followed, going beside him and leaning her arm on the back of the sofa.

"What happened?"

"Someone forgot to blow out the candles we were using and WE LOST HALF OF THE SET!" He explained everything by gesturing with his hands. "This should take a couple of weeks to be redone, we'll even have to delete some scenes from today because of continuity."

He would spend more time there then, wouldn't he?

"Wow, that reminds me of when we recorded Philbert" Diane smiled at the memory. "It was almost impossible to have a quiet day.”

"Speaking of Philbert," Guy joined them at that moment, taking the empty spot on the sofa and offering the pot of cookies for both, "I know nowadays the plot holes are more noticeable and some parts haven't aged well... But I'm still sad that it was canceled... And it's kind of weird knowing that I'm now together with two people who worked on the production, yeah.

"You get used to it pretty soon," Diane shrugged, taking a second bite of her cookie.

"And you know what's going to be even weirder?" Mr Peanutbutter laughed as he completed. "When you watch my new movie and realize you couldn't figure out what it was."

"That's it!? No! I still have time! Did you say candles? Something with exorcism then?"

"Nope!"

Diane rolled her eyes, enjoying her seemingly new routine.

The next day, she had helped Guy make lasagna. At the kitchen table, her husband asked:

"It's not supernatural, right? Maybe a slasher movie?"

"It's kind of supernatural, yes," Mr Peanutbutter replied, still with his mouth full.

"Are you kidding? What more options are left?"

"Think a little more~"

The following week, they'd stayed up until midnight watching a few episodes of Mr Peanutbutter's House and Horsin' Around, just laughing and talking a little about the past. Diane increasingly realized how much lighter it was to talk about such matters now, quite different from when she first moved from California. Guy was starting to pick up on their inside jokes, commenting on how Blarn had been a great idea. Diane accepted the compliment, feeling nostalgic.

That same day, the three put on a random documentary, talking until dawn. Diane only woke up—and realized she had fallen asleep in the first place—at 2:00 am, finding it kind of amusing to realize that Mr. Peanutbutter and Guy were doing the same, in a competition of who was in the most uncomfortable position. Asking the dog to go back to the hotel felt wrong, so Diane just woke Guy up and the two of them silently went to their room.

The next morning, after the mess, they had breakfast together, Mr. Peanutbutter taking one of the spare toothbrushes and changing for work in their bathroom, saying goodbye in that stupidly domestic way.

Diane's more selfish side returned, and she almost hoped something would destroy the other half of the set for whatever movie he was shooting.

•∆•

Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You was looping in her head, and for a good reason. She couldn't fall asleep, her thoughts starting to bother her again. Then she kept saying to herself, "nostalgia is a lying bitch and you DON'T miss your life with Mr Peanutbutter. The divorce was the biggest proof of love you ever made for each other."

Yes, that was the truth. Yes Yes Yes. Now she just had to accept it.

To make her point even more clear, she forced herself to remember all the bad times they ever had. All the times he didn't listen, that infuriated her and made her feel terrible about herself and for not getting to be the wife he thought she was.

She also couldn't forget how disastrous and selfish they were together, doing what they'd done to Pickles, only to get nowhere with it.

She certainly didn't miss the fights and the thousands of nights they slept without speaking after yelling at each other.

She just thought so because everything was fine now.

She sighed, shifting her position. Unlike her, Guy was in a deep, peaceful sleep, on his back and snoring softly. Carefully, she brought the back of her hand to his cheek, lightly stroking his fur.

She still loved him. Very very very much. In a way as strong and desperate as she was when she first met him. He was kind, funny, and all the company and comfort she needed in her life.

Diane was confused, and admitting anything in her own head scared her.

But she needed to state the obvious.

She was still in love with Mr Peanutbutter, wasn't she?

•∆•

Now the way was to be angry at him, she realized. It must’ve been her brain's way of not blaming herself so much and pretending that she wasn't about to destroy her whole life all over again.

However, it got so... so difficult when he still showed up on her doorstep every time, tail wagging, another colorful coat and a bottle of expensive wine in hand.

"Something tells me that Guy is going to like it there..." She commented, a light smile involuntarily appearing on her lips.

And she was right. The three of them gathered at the kitchen table again. Diane sipped from her glass, the taste taking her years back. Mr Peanutbutter always bought that same wine for them to drink.

"Tastes like wealth," was the conclusion Guy got, and she laughed because it had been the same as hers.

She missed that, didn't she!?

They watched Hereditary. Guy tried to guess Mr Peanutbutter's movie and failed. At night, when the two were in bed, her husband murmured:

"I know that's how dogs are, but he shouldn't stick his head out the car window... It's dangerous."

Diane smiled.

If she had that routine for even one more day, she would freak out.

Fortunately, that was not what fate had prepared for her.

When she got home the next night, Guy was already there, just like usual. He sat on the sofa, however, something was wrong. She could feel it. She entered the room with some caution, trying to notice what gave her such an impression. It was even easy to know. The TV was off this time, leaving the whole environment in an intimidating silence, mixed with how Guy didn't do anything, just sat there.

When she was close enough, he began to speak:

"I've been waiting for you to arrive," his tone was hard to read. It didn't have much emotion, giving her the awful impression that he must've been rehearsing it in his head while she was gone "we need to talk about something."

Her brain stopped working, going to the past. A few years in the past. "It was good while it lasted". BoJack? BoJack had told her that phrase once, hadn't he? For some reason, it was what was repeated over and over in her thoughts.

"Okay..." She murmured, almost whispering, taking her pose as a child who was about to be scolded. She didn't have much choice but to sit next to him, avoiding eye contact for as long as she could.

She thought she was hiding it well, at least. She didn't even let herself believe that, and this was the hope she was moving forward with... apparently, she wasn't even right about that.

Now her anxiety peaked, feeling her fingertips begin to tingle.

She had almost forgotten what that felt like.

What would become of her now? Would she stay in Houston? Would she go back for another round of small, impersonal apartments? Would it go back exactly where it started, half a lifetime ago?

Or would she try to convince Guy that she could ignore it... and forget about it? - something she would genuinely like to do.

"Look, Diane, I don't even know how to talk about this," Guy continued finally, and Diane struggled to make out the words. Just like her, he didn't look in her direction, "It's going to be kind of weird, okay?"

Maybe she couldn't even stay in Houston. She wouldn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she would have to go back to being Diane and run away to whatever other town that would accept her.

"Okay," she sighed, giving up. "I think I already know what it is."

"You know!?" He looked oddly surprised, almost scared.

Wait.

"What? What... What is it?"

The silence then returned in double. The two stared at each other, their expressions blank and not daring to speak a single word.

Diane ventured:

"Guy?'

He needed yet another few seconds to continue:

"Now I don't have the courage to talk anymore..."

"Don't you dare! What happened, Guy?"

"Nothing!" It was his turn to be defensive. "That's the case, okay? Nothing really happened and I don't mean to suggest that we should break up or anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have every right to be angry, but..."

"With you winding up like that, it's really hard not to be!"

"I don't think there's an easy way to say this."

Then another pause, and now that was the last straw. Diane was so nervous that she could barely feel her hands; her body sweated and she saw white:

"G..." But she was soon interrupted.

"I think I'm in love with Mr. Peanutbutter!"

What?

"What!?"

Now it looked like a challenge to who looked the most terrified, both of them looking like wild animals that would run at any sudden movement.

Diane changed position, almost getting up from the couch:

"Did you just tell me... that YOU are in love with Mr Peanutbutter?" Disproving her theory, saying it out loud didn't make it any more real. Quite the opposite.

"I thought I told you that I was bisexual and that..." He stopped mid-sentence. Normally Guy was someone easygoing and calm, traits that fit her perfectly. Guy always had solutions to any problem, making her feel like she was on the ground every time she needed to.

Now, however, it was like he was about to pass out from embarrassment.

"That's not the problem, of course!" Diane shook her head, trying to control all the trillions of feelings and speak more calmly. "With Mr Peanutbutter, my ex-husband?"

"It's as ridiculous as it sounds," he tried to smile, giving up in the next second. "I wanted to tell you because... I don't know why, it felt right. I swear I never got close to doing anything to him.... I thought you could help me - no, not that! We could think of a solution together. Or not. I don't know."

"I'm a pretty bad person for that."

"Huh?"

"Guess who's in love with Mr Peanutbutter, too?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped, the mood in the room completely changing in an instant. The silence had disappeared and given way to the laughter that now came out.

They stayed like that for a long time, laughing. So much that Diane began to suspect the obvious and how it wasn't because they found the situation funny.

After that came, of course, silence. They stared at each other, and Diane thought the last time she felt so uncomfortable around Guy was when he made her jump out the window to hide it from his son:

"And now...?"

"We admit that we are equally terrible and forgive each other...?" Guy ventured, cocking his head to the side.

"Deal!" She would like to put that behind her, for sure. "But... What about him?"

Now Guy shrugged:

"I don't know that."

They were screwed.

Of course they were.

There wasn't even a chance that this story would end well. But that wasn't the only part that concerned Diane. She felt confused, which left her mind almost blank, not knowing what to think or how to react. Almost as if her life didn't belong to her and she was just watching an episode of TV. And, in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but notice how strangely light she felt. She had gotten so used to carrying that weight that she never even imagined what she would do after that.

Without the guilt and longing, who was she now?

•∆•

Now that she could finally accept it, she let herself enjoy the good parts of the present and the past. When they said that time away from someone was sometimes necessary, they were completely right. The Mr Peanutbutter she lived with now still had all the traits that made him him: an oddly charismatic personality; always praising everyone and trying to be positive, for better or for worse; he still looked kind of distracted, as if he didn't hear her, but he ended up proving the opposite every now and then.

However, his only change was not just the whitish hairs on his muzzle that made him even more endearing: just as she noticed when she first saw him in Houston, it was as if Mr. Peanutbutter had finally matured. He never crossed the line or tried to prove himself to her. He was calmer. Nicer.

She's never forgotten that call she'd had with him one day, years ago, in Chicago. When she suggested that their relationship would probably work with them as they were at the time, Mr Peanutbutter replied that they were only the way they were because of the relationship they once had.

How he had changed. They both had, didn't they?

She asked, every time, if she was right that day. If only they could try a second time. Would everything go back to the way it was before, when the anxiety killed her knowing that they would fight again, practically daily? Or was it closer to the beginning of their relationship, where everything had that rare emotion and she started to feel like she belonged somewhere?

When Mr. Peanutbutter was at her house or they went out with him to see the city, she had to stop herself from kissing him, without saying a word. She liked to imagine that he still felt the same way, having all the same questions but choosing to ignore them for the moment.

If only things were that easy... But at least she wasn't alone. And she could tell Guy all this now, so that he would do the same with his own doubts:

"Wasn't it weird?" He questioned, turning his head on the pillow to face her. "Dating someone so famous, I mean. How did you deal with all his fans? Weren't you jealous?"

"In the beginning, I kind of was," these were such distant memories that she wasn't sure anymore "but I was winning, wasn't I? At least he never gave me the impression that he was going to cheat on me, so I stopped worrying one day."

"Wait, wasn't there something that he cheated on his girlfriend a few years ago? That pug girl, huh?"

Diane's complete silence and Guy's increasingly worried expression indicated that he was starting to connect the dots.

"Ehrrrrr promise not to judge me too much? "Diane asked, smiling sheepishly.

"WAS IT WITH YOU!? Oh dear lord, this is why you want to change the channel when she appears, it all makes so much more sense!"

"What did you think that was the reason?"

"That he had left you for her or something."

"Nah, it was after our divorce. But very close to our divorce, which must have been one of the reasons it happened, now that I stopped to think about it..."

"Diane... I think it must be time for you to tell me the whole story, no?"

"Of my ten years of marriage?"

"As much as you want to tell."

They went to sleep only hours later. Diane didn't try to hide the bad parts, figuring Guy deserved to know what he was getting into. She never thought she could be so honest with him. Maybe she really was past the stage of fear that he would abandon her if he found out who she really was. Instead, he laughed at parts of the story, and only lightly judged her when she deserved it. There was no disgust or heartbreak in his gaze, just pure interest. Obviously she didn't come close to telling everything, not even knowing if that would be possible. But at the end of it all, she was able to return to his arms until they fell asleep. Just like every day for the last few years.

Guy was here to stay.

Diane still wasn't quite used to having company at times as confusing and complicated as this one... But it was something she could get used to.

•∆•

As it was Sunday again, they took the opportunity to go out into the city. Even though it wasn't close to snowing, Houston winters were still quite cold at night. This fact always slipped her mind, until she found herself clutching her coat. She walked closer to Guy, who soon got the message and put his arm around her shoulder to warm her up more.

He had the slight impression that Mr. Peanutbutter watched the scene for a second longer than he should have, but at that point, it could just be her imagination.

The dog walked faster again, his attention going from window to window, with the same admiration of a child:

"The buildings remain my favorite part of here!" He commented, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he turned to them.

"Aren't they going to be part of any scenery in your movie?" Guy questioned. Diane thought that if he didn't talk about it once a day, he would die. "Why haven't they closed any streets for recording yet? Since it needed to be here in Houston?"

Mr Peanutbutter hesitated a few seconds before replying:

"It doesn’t need the street itself."

"I've given up guessing which one it is, okay?"

"Ahhh Guy, come on, just think about the things you..." Then he interrupted himself, his attention being stolen by yet another shop window. Diane couldn't judge him, soon joining him to look at the clothes displayed there.

It was one of those more expensive stores that Diane suddenly had to wean herself off going to. Most of what was on the mannequins were coats and flannel shirts, all with an extra layer of fur, which could only indicate that they were warm.

"I've never seen this jacket in California, I've been wanting to buy it!" Mr Peanutbutter pointed to one in particular: jeans and a medium coppery blue. It didn't look like the clothes he normally wore, but he could easily picture him in it.

Diane had such a terrible moment when she forgot to control herself, the words just coming out of her mouth:

"I'll buy it as a gift for you!"

Guy and he stared at her at the same time, the labrador practically without reaction as he raised his eyebrows:

"You're really lovely for the offer, but I was about to buy it already."

"No!" She was insistent, knowing that now her pride was at stake. "I was wanting to give you a gift anyway," Lie "so you'll have a souvenir when you get back to Los Angeles."

It was almost imperceptible, but his smile faded a little. During that very instant, he looked…disappointed? Maybe sad. That simple demonstration made Diane's heart want to race, everything in her body telling her that she must say something, that this was her chance.

But she obviously continued in the same position, static, letting Mr Peanutbutter mumble:

"Yeah... If you insist, who am I to say no!?"

While Guy was chuckling beside her - he would certainly throw that in her face later, the two had a little personal competition on who would humiliate themselves more in front of the dog - Diane walked into the store with the two of them, only to grab the jacket from the hangers she found and pretend she didn't read the price tag that hung with it. If Guy wanted to murder her after that, it would be just as deserved. She had to thank him for being in such a good mood.

She headed to the cashier to pay, after realizing that Mr. Peanutbutter wasn't even going to try on the outfit - he and Guy had already gotten distracted and gone to another corner of the store, pointing and amused at everything. They were just looking at jeans, what was so funny?

Diane smirked as she watched the two of them, again in that stupidly domestic scene that she wanted more and more of.

Coming back to reality, she turned to the woman at the cashier - an Abert's squirrel, with her fluffy ears and all - who was glaring at her gleefully:

"Is it a gift?"

"Yes, it is," Diane smiled back, soon after choosing a package with a baseball print. She knew he would like that one.

She took out her card to pay, the squirrel cocking her head in her direction again:

"Do you know who Mr Peanutbutter is?"

"Huh?" Diane's brain apparently worked very slowly today. Or she was just very distracted, in her own thoughts. "I do!"

"It's him back there, isn't it?" She looked anxious, surreptitiously pointing to where the dog was.

Already knowing what to expect, Diane glanced around, seeing how he and Guy had already moved into another section of the store, with more colorful clothes. Picking up a purple T-shirt, Guy commented something along the lines of "I already told you that I'm bisexual?", in the most unnatural way possible, making Diane have to control herself not to laugh. Okay, now she would have a point for the conversation they would have before bed.

"Of course it's him!" Diane said to the squirrel. "He's talking to my husband."

"Serious? What? Wait, so are you... You are..."

"Diane Nguyen."

Of course, that poor saleswoman had no idea who she could be. Something she'd learned from the life of being famous enough was that you'd be almost recognizable far more often than totally.

After saying goodbye, she noticed how the squirrel followed her with her eyes while she called the two men with her hand, without having the courage to approach. It was a shame, Mr Peanutbutter enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Once outside, Diane remembered how cold it was, practically being knocked out by the wind. Imagine if she was in Chicago? She would never take it!

She then turned to Mr Peanutbutter, holding out the bag with the package:

"It doesn't have the same excitement as a surprise gift, but here it is!"

He didn't react at first, but the way he tilted his head slightly to the left, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth… Yeah, he liked it. Years ago, in the midst of her despair over her doomed marriage, she read about the 5 love languages. Classic thing that everyone knows nowadays, you know? The conclusion she reached was that Mr. Peanutbutter delivered exactly his own, which he would like to get back.

An extra gift for him would be worth it, wouldn't it?

He held the package in his hands, glancing at the package and enveloping her in a sudden strong hug. He was still so warm, just the right size for her to sink her chin into the yellow fur on his neck. So familiar. So weird.

"Thank you," he said when separating, a little shy. That was new! "I'll get revenge one day for that, huh!"

"Anytime you want!"

Finally, she gave Guy a wide smile: her underhanded way of saying she'd won this time. He nodded and lowered his head, giving her the pleasure of victory.

She felt like a teenager doing that sort of thing, in a way she hadn't genuinely experienced in decades.

It was still good.

They didn't do much more than that before they parted ways. They took Mr. Peanutbutter to his hotel, where they had another rather uncomfortable farewell, where none of the three knew how to react. Just wave? Shake hands? Hug? All options were bad.

"Sooo, see you again on Monday, which means tomorrow!?" The dog opened a big embarrassed smile as he took a few steps back, pointing to both of them with his index fingers. "Oh, I just remembered. Guy, about what you told me inside the store?"

"What...?" The other looked genuinely confused.

"Forget it! It was nothing! I'll be there tomorrow night, I miss you two already!"

And so he was gone, walking into the hotel. He had fled.

Whatever it was, Diane and Guy just stood there, not daring to move.

"Diane... Do you think that us telling him would be the worst thing that could happen?"

"I don't know anymore," she shrugged, releasing all the air she had in her lungs. "I just spent $600.00 dollars on a jacket."

(Finally my knowledge of horror movies has come in handy for something!

After a few months, I finally got the inspiration to finish this chapter! Now there's only one left)

[tarnishedxknight]

{out of dalmasca} Well... I'm finally home. I got home around 2:30PM. Saturday. For a same-day procedure scheduled for 4:30PM Friday that should have taken from check-in to discharge about 4-5 hours.

Yeeeeeeeah...

It. Was. An absolute nightmare. I'll briefly summarize below a cut for anyone who wants the dirt and to hear my harrowing tale of woe, lol, but long story short, it was one of the worst experiences of my life and I never want to go back to that hospital ever again, heh. Which.. is sad. I was born in that hospital. My mother was a nurse there for the majority of her career. She loved that hospital. My life was saved there when I was two and sick with JRA, and my dad's was saved when he was in his 60s and he got a rare blood infection. But this experience? -47/10 would not recommend. But it's done, the actual surgery went well, now I just have to heal up. =)

Okay, so. What happened was... someone who should've had a 2-hour surgery before me to have their appendix removed ended up having a cancerous tumor there that nobody expected. It was really in there good and wrapped around important things, and the surgery took 8 hours to safely remove it. So my appt. time was 4:30PM, I was told to get there at 2PM, I got there at 1:45PM... and I didn't have surgery until 11:45PM. It was a total fiasco of everything that could possibly go wrong... going wrong.

Machines broke down or malfunctioned. They did a random maintenance of the computer system so none of the nurse could log into their little mobile kiosk accounts. I had two different bed issues. One took three nurses to figure out how to lock it so it didn't move around (the table I was having surgery on), and the other bed (my post-op recovery bed) the nurse backed so far up that it got hiked up onto a drawer of a shelving unit behind it and then wouldn't raise or lower. When she figured this out, she closed the drawer, causing the bed to painfully and suddenly drop like 8 inches to the floor with me in it. My check-in nurse disappeared and they couldn't find him for a solid hour and I had to get another one and restart the whole process. Another forgot to take an IV port out of an elderly patient who had been next to me and let him go home with it, only to have to walk him through removing it over the phone later. None of this instilled confidence.

They put me in a room after surgery because "it's late now," and the phone didn't work in the room. Neither did the TV. That's okay because I couldn't see anything anyway AND I had no cell phone because my dad took them, because they told him he'd be coming back in a couple hours to take me home and then... just kidding. So I sat in one room for 8 hours before surgery, and then sat in another post-surgery for 13 hours. With. Nothing to do (except they did have a passable portable tv in the first room, which I'll get to in a second). Unable to see or make calls. And I had none of my meds that prevent other serious medical issues while sleep so......... I couldn't sleep. I had to fight to stay away or risk things going wrong in other ways. Dear gods, the boredom and stress.

I was put in a room with a terminally ill cancer patient who wanted to chat and tell me in gory detail everything about her illness. That... was not what I needed right just then. Then, she kept like... I would push the call button (once I found out where it was because nobody told me), and because I was hidden in the back and she was by the door, they would just ask her what she wanted, she'd get help to do this that or whatever, and then they'd leave again without even talking to me.

Just outside our room was the man who had the appendix out. He was shrieking, crying, and moaning all night long because he was in pain, and they couldn't give him anything for it because his blood pressure had bottomed out. It was like something out of a horror movie, except real, to listen to the sounds of agony this poor man was making. Extremely upsetting. I cried twice just because I had a visceral human response to the sounds he was making. Another reason why I got no sleep.

I am supposed to be on a low fat diet, at least until I heal. Also, when you have GE surgery, the last thing you want is to drink caustic acid. So what do they bring me for breakfast? Orange juice, raw pineapple, and tart strawberries (I could feel them all burning on the way down, I was in agony), and then scrambled eggs with melted cheese, fried breakfast sausages, and fried potatoes. Like. What the actual fuck. And coffee. I detest coffee. When I asked for tea I got looked at funny and told they couldn't give that to me. Apparently hot tea is a burn risk, but hot coffee is fine. Yeah, okay, sure. Tell that to that woman who sued McDonalds for burning her own lap. I couldn't eat the potatoes, they were so dry I was afraid of choking on them, it was ridiculous. But I ate and drank as much as I could because, all told during this process, I had gone 17.5 hours without water, and about 21 hours without food.

The reason they kept me overnight was because my surgeon just left afterward. He didn't talk to me, didn't give discharge orders, didn't say anything, he just left. Then, as of like 6AM when they called him, he didn't answer, until around 12PM when they gave up and called another doctor, who basically said yeah I'm busy I'll get to it when I get to it. Hence me not being released until 2PM.

And the pain is..... omg intense. Debilitating. Not at all what was described to me as what to expect. And I'm no wuss, I've been in and out of hospitals since I was two, I have 10 piercings, I had all four wisdom teeth extracted and was eating pizza later that same day lol, and I have a very high pain threshold, so for me to say the pain is A Lot™ is.... yeah. This is hell. I am in hell. XD

But I am home now and I just need to somehow get through the next few days until the pain gets better and my life gets more normal. My sleep schedule is all messed up and the pain is distracting, so I'm not sure when I'm going to be on to write. Over the next 3 days or so, I'll do what I can, when I can. If I feel like it's comforting and therapeutic, I will. If not, I won't.

BUT... the one ray of light in this hellish process was that in the room I was in for 8 hours the first time, they had a TV, and even though everything was blurry without my glasses, I found a channel playing movies. I got to watch the classic Ghostbusters II, which I love, and then they had back to back Iron Man and Iron Man 2. Got all the way through them, and then they moved me 10 minutes before IM2 ended, which was... rude. I've already seen it but still. That's so annoying. XD

The funny thing was, the night before surgery I was so anxious I couldn't sleep, so I was on my phone watching and listening to random videos and music. I found my favorite music video of Tony Stark/Iron Man that I hadn't seen in a long time, and it was weird for me to click on it because lately I haven't been writing him and I felt a bit detached from the character. So I thought it was funny that I randomly watched that the night before, and then I'm in the hospital watching Iron Man movies on their TV, haha. Needless to say, my muse for Tony is now through the roof, so... that's going to be a thing for a while.

Weirdly enough, watching Tony going through all the medical stuff with his reactor, and watching him battle his own anxiety and neuroticism, was strangely comforting to me sitting hours on end in a hospital awaiting surgery having one panic attack after another. I know, it makes no sense, you'd really think it'd make me more nervous, or that it would exacerbate my anxiety, but you'd be wrong. Neurodivergence ftw, heh. XD

Anyway, I'm home, I'm hurting, but I'm okay. And actually, despite everything going wrong, my actual surgery apparently went "perfect textbook" well. So that's the most important thing. I may be lurking for a couple days unless I get better sleep and my pain gets to a level where I can do more with my brain than just sit here and think.... ow. XD I'll see how I feel in the next few days and if I need to extend my hiatus from my regular rp schedule further, I'll let everyone know.

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent/personal/health/long post

Omggg so today has been so unbELIEVABLY shitty

First i wake up in pain still from my back going out on sunday when I woke up. That was expected though. My dental aligner trays hurt like a motherfucker to pull out still. Then im getting a quick breakfast together and I get a text from the clinic saying my doctors appointment i needed before tomorrow is canceled AGAIN. I had to check with the clinic and the specialist (appointment tomorrow) if its okay if I have renewed referral clinic appointment next week. So fingers crossed thats okay, because thats whats happening its not possible to see the clinic before the specialist, and ive had the specialist appointment for months, and the clinic only told me i need to renew the referral on last friday, and ive had appointments every day this week. Whatever. It is what it is.

Then im pouring cereal, drizzle a little agave on top because its unsweetened, and then immediately knock the bowl over all over my lap, sticky side down. I still cant go pick up the bits under the table now, because its killing my back to even pull the chair out, my back is in such bad shape. (Was gonna ask the clinic doctor to help out w it too but i guess im going this whole week without a treatment plan, just taking old painkillers lmao.)

Speaking of painkillers, i have one left of this bottle. I have another painkiller type, but its way too strong, and even if i cut it in half itll be too strong, but im gonna have to use that if i dont have any improvement.

So all that above was the easy peasy part of my day. Next is my appointment to renew state benefits (for food). I get EVERYTHING ready all gathered into the one spot in my room i know i can get consistent cell service, and settle down. Phone appointment time comes. I hear the landline downstairs ring. Fuck. I grab my phone and paperwork and i cant make it in time both because of my back problems and also because the landline only rings twice. I literally grabbed the phone as the case worker stopped speaking on the machine. Fuck again. I cant understand the phone number they said on the machine. It takes me a minute to realize its the same number on my paper work. I try to call but my house is a dead zone. Go back to my room, get put thru to the robot answering machine because its the general number. Not a callback number. Fuck. The robot then hangs up on me saying theres a high call volume and to call back later.

But my appointment is now! I call again and get hung up on. I call again and finally get put on hold. This is like 20 minutes after my appointment time because it takes like 7 minutes of talking to the robot to get put into a call. So im on hold, i hear the landline so i rush downstairs to try and get it again but im too late (probably a robo call, we get a lot). There was no new message, so i stay on hold, where im expecting an 80 minute wait time.

Completely fucked up process when i had an appointment scheduled! I shouldve been able to call the worker back on the available phone.

Anyway. Im dying in pain and sobbing on the phone and end up having to sit on the kitchen chair thats hard wood because i got reception in there and i wanted to be closer to the landline just in case. Im sobbing for like the first 2 hours bc of pain from exterting myself rushing around the house. I try sending off a message on the online portal. But its like 'we'll get back to you within 5 days' lol.

My battery gets low so I risk bringing my phone to my room to use the bathroom and grab a charger, take off my dental trays (more pain) so i can eat and drink something. More pain when i get back downstairs.

Im on hold for longer. So i start looking for someone higher up to pester because the whole situation is fucked. Around 3 hours on hold i send off an email to someone whos the director of that org at the county.

Its at this point i realise i might be racking up a huge phone bill, so i start telling myself 'ok sunk cost fallacy this isnt worth the wait' and i start trying to log back into the portal (which id already been doing like 20 times already this day) to request a new appointment. Then the portal keeps logging me out as soon as i log in. And i cant reset my password or do anything.

Im about to give up, going nuts after hearing the same note played over and over on the hold music. And someone fucking answers the phone.

Ho lee shit. I couldnt believe it.

A 4 hour hold that actually produced results????

Apparently all their systems are down and the worker was like 'okay yeah youre gonna be the last person i process today i am not able to access anything right now' and even had to do some stuff manually, but my case is renewed and everything should be settled now

So yeah that was over 4 hours of torture being in the uncomfortable kitchen for so long, when i WAS prepared for my appointment ahead of time. Ugh. I shouldnt have to hurt myself to get this done, but no one else was in the house to catch the landline for me, and i didnt know i could get reception in the kitchen.

(Kind of worked out tho bc i wouldve had to hang up if my doctors appointment today didnt cancel, and also i wouldve hung up if the online portal functioned)

The sad thing is im not even done. i gotta deal with another appointment tomorrow in another town. (Already had to go out of town on tuesday for the teeth aligners/tmj appliances), like the car is not comfortable for my injured back lmao

I dont think the appointment tmr is anything big its prob just a check up and to renew meds, but getting there, early in the morning, is gonna be fucking hard. I doubt this doc will do anything for my back or regular level of chronic pain, but im gonna make a big stink about it because i havent stopped being in pain for like ever, and the past month has just been so fucking hard on me with trying to help family do labor intensive stuff (which is probably why my back got fucked and gave up on sunday)

It really fucking sucks being in chronic pain and no doctors wanna do anything to treat the pain. Ive already been on every type of antidepressant and none of them helped my fibro or depression. Ive actually felt a LOT better since stopping them last winter. But im still in a lot of pain all the time. I dont wnna be like 'give me painkillers' but... give me painkillers. I was so comfortable when i was on them regularly in the past. And then the whole opioid crisis thing happened and now no one gives them to me except when i had endo flare ups (which. Lol. They barely do anything for endo pain. Which is why i was so surprised they did anything at all for my back pain when i took one on sunday!) I have always been responsible with them and always took the lowest dose (cut them in half back then) because i dont like the feeling of painkillers lololol

God tho this back pain... on sunday it was so humiliating, i kept getting stuck where i was because the pain was so bad. Even just lying flat on my back was excruciating. I was Almost at the point where i wouldve needed help to use the bathroom. Even now, while my back is much better (still terrible tho) and with painkillers, i can barely twist to grab toilet paper or reach to dry myself. It fucking sucks. Getting clothes on and off? Sucks. Especially reaching to get my feet out of pants or socks on and off.

You dont realize how much you took for granted until you struggle to do basic daily movement. I thought i was doing so well too because ive been lifting weights since februrary! Just arm workouts tho. Was doing situps until i had another endo flare up in spring. I always forget how bad severe pain situations are, either with an injury or my endo flare ups. Im living in constant fear of the next endo flare up and that sucks too. My current back problem is like, spikes of level 10 pain with movement. The endo flare ups is sustained level 10 pain. So theyre not even comparable but its still super severe.

Anyway. This has been super rough on me. Especially the added pain and overstimulation of the new back pain, and now the constant pain and headache from the teeth aligners, which is another thing im super scared about. What if it ends up making my jaw worse? What if i pull out a tooth? God just prying them off my teeth is like getting teeth pulled it hurts so much. Im like crying when i have to take the bottom one off, the hook digs into my gums and then when one side comes off its excruciatingly stuck on the other side. Literally feels like teeth being pulled. Im surprised my one crown is still in place (ive been pulling from the opposite side to try and save it). And ive already lost a bunch of the tooth spikes they added to keep the aligners in place, but the office is like a 2 hour drive away so i cant just go get the spike replaced. I dont even have a car or license i have to coordinate with family lol. And the brand is like so new theres no online discussions about it so i cant even commiserate or see how people manage to cope with this level of constant pain from the trays, pulling them out, or the extra large bite guard i cant even close my lips around at night. My teeth are so crooked i cant even tell if its in the right placement bc my teeth dont fit in the bite guard tray. So lol. Im trying.

So yeah i dont have faith in my doctors im scared starting treatment is just gonna make things worse especially because thats been the case my whole life. Ill try to get treated for something and then it reveals or causes something much worse i need to treat. But im trying. Its just hard when i have to treat so many fucking illnesses all at once, and theyre all super painful.

Im fucking tired. Want this week to be over. Want to just sleep, but i cant even do that without being in excruciating pain every time i try to move position. Life rly sucks for me rn.

So thats my vent.

Oh yeah, also dermatillomania has been severe lately too lol. So i look a mess but thankfully my lips get covered by my mask. I was so scared the tmj doc was gonna comment on it but i accidentally forgot to take my piercings out before the appointment so he ended up making conversation about those instead of the glaring wounds on my lips and fingers. (He did notice my bandaids on my fingers lol)

So yeah. Send prayers and gay vibes my way pls i rly need it. Fffff time to go cry and put my trays back in

[kieran-the-writer]

Statement of Salome Lukas

IX. Matchmaker

9th July 2007

“You gave him your number?”

     That was the first thing Gerard said when Salome told him about the meeting with Michael Shelley and Mikaele Salesa that she had attended with her uncle the month prior.

     Salome took a drag from her joint as she and Gerard sat in the park again. “So what?” The smoke spilled from her mouth.

     “'So what' is even I don’t have your number.”

     “Do you have a cell phone?”

     “No,” Gerry said, “but that’s irrelevant.”

     “Is it?”

     Gerry plucked her joint from Salome’s lips and held it over her head. In response to her unamused pout, he announced: “You like him.”

     “I— What? No,” Salome said. “I’ve met him twice.”

     “What color are his eyes?” Gerard asked, one pierced eyebrow raised slyly.

     “Brown,” Salome said without hesitation.

     Gerard took a drag from Salome’s joint and sat back against the park bench. “Like I said.”

     “That doesn’t prove anything, Gerry,” Salome said, plucking her joint from his hand. She stared down at the eyes tattooed all over her arm, from her collarbone to her fingertips, like the tattoos over Gerry’s heart and on every one of his joints.

     “They should protect us, at least partly, from the other thirteen Fears,” he’d told her, and she believed him. She had to believe him. Who else did she have in her life? “Well, the other twelve. I think you’re too deep in the Lonely by now for ’em to do much good against it.”

     They’d gotten the tattoos on the same day, and Salome opted to have them done all over her left arm, as “That’s my guitar neck arm” and she wanted to protect her fingers to keep them agile enough to press down on the guitar strings the way she needed to. Her music was important to her.

     “Sal, you didn’t know what color my eyes were until two months after we met,” Gerard said, crossing his arms behind his head. That was true enough; Salome struggled to make eye contact a lot of the time, so to know what color Michael Shelley’s eyes were after only two meetings was almost monumental.

     “That doesn’t mean anything,” Salome insisted, taking another drag and pointedly avoiding Gerard’s eye.

     “Face it, Lukas,” Gerry said. “You’ve got a crush.”

     Salome was quiet for a long, long while. When she next spoke, her voice was soft, small, and fearful. “…Don’t tell Uncle Peter.” She folded in on herself, crossing her arms and pulling her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to think about what might happen if Peter found out about Michael Shelley.

     Gerard lowered his arms and sighed, frowning at Salome.

     Feeling Gerard’s gaze on her, Salome sighed and hid her face in her knees. “Life would have been so much easier if you and I had worked out,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.

     Gerard huffed and rested his tattooed hand on the back of Salome’s head. “I’m not sure about that,” he said. “Do you really want my mum as an in-law?”

     Salome made a huffy sound that might have been a humorless laugh. “Point taken.”

Michael Shelley, for his part, found his mind wandering to the quiet brown-haired girl in his downtime. She was so soft-spoken and he didn’t think he’d heard her string more than a few words together at a time, but there was something fascinating about her. She was very pretty, too, with her silvery eyes contrasting with her dark hair, and the smattering of freckles across her nose.

     Next time Michael saw his boss’s boss, Mr. Bouchard, the older man had an odd, almost anticipatory smile on his face. Bouchard made Michael nervous, especially when he seemed to be looking through Michael rather than at him.

     Soon, Michael began to see Salome Lukas more often in and around the Institute. More specifically, he saw her in the park with a tall, skinny young man with badly dyed black hair one night a month after the meeting with Salesa.

The bench jolted slightly with a soft “Oof,” bringing Salome’s attention behind her.

     Oh. It was the blonde-haired young man from the institute. “O-oh! I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness that he didn’t seem to have noticed before then, then smiled when he recognized Salome. “Oh! Y-you’re the one who, uh, the one who meets with Mr. Bouchard, aren’t you? Captain Lukas’s niece? I—I don’t know if you remember me. W-we’ve only met a couple of times. I’m Michael.”

     Salome blinked at Michael. “Ah—Yes. Hello. Salome.”

     “Hey.” Gerard nodded at Michael. “Gerard Keay.”

    Salome was staring at Michael as if trying to memorize every part of his face. A slow smile spread across Gerard’s face as a plan began to form in his mind, and he put an arm around Salome. “Hey—Michael, was it? Sal and I were just about to go do karaoke. You want to come?”

     “Gerard,” Salome muttered, “what are you doing?”

     “You a favor,” Gerard hissed in her ear, kicking her leg. “Play along.”

     “Oh! I-I’ve never done karaoke before,” Michael said, smiling brightly and a little awkwardly in the yellow glow of the lamps near the bench. “If—I could come, if you don’t mind.”

     “Sure, we don’t mind,” Gerard said, kicking Salome’s leg again and speaking before she could cut in. “There’s a karaoke place near here. Follow me.”

--

Masterlist

[violetmuses]

Walk Like This - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Walk Like This - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You've crossed the unexpected patient.

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex 🏷

=====

2024

Designated to work somewhere in Miami this time around, you've hustled throughout various placements after joining that large-scale facility.

While trying to sleep on one rare day off, this unknown number reached this cell phone.

“Hello?” You've hardly woken up by this point and still feel exhausted.

“Rook, I need a big favor.” Cutting your nickname, Detective Mike Lowrey called out of nowhere!

“Mike, what the hell?” You somehow pull thoughts together and sit up in bed, unsure of what's going on.

“Trouble. One of our guys is wounded. I really can't bring him to the hospital, though.” Mike explained.

“Damn. Where are you?” Your heart dropped with each passing moment.

“We're on the porch, but I'm barely holding him up right now.” Mike struggled.

“Hold on!” You ended that conversation and hustled downstairs, genuinely nervous.

The stranger's lifeline just counted down more and more.

When you open the front door, Armando Aretas nearly dropped from Mike's hold.

“Shit!” Knowing so much better, you aid this moment despite holding back questions. “C'mon, Mike. Help me bring him to the couch.”

“Okay.” Mike agreed to help without thinking twice.

______

With James McGrath dead, Miami's AMMO squad returned home, but Aretas couldn't risk public sight while known as this dangerous criminal.

After facing many questions or encountering secrets over time, even Mike took responsibility and now stood as Armando's biological father.

Using First-Aid and grounding other essentials, you knew that Armando's injuries could've worsened if Mike hadn't signaled right away.

“What else do you need, Mike? I can't babysit your son.” Telling the truth, you glared at Lowrey.

“Please look out for him. I can't book hotels for recovery, either.” Mike shook his head.

“Y'all can't go home afterwards? Christine is a physical therapist, too.” You say. Mike married this remarkable person named Christine as well.

“I know, but Armando is better off hiding near strangers.” Mike continued. “Right now, if I stayed in public with him, someone would call…”

“I'm harboring a fugitive and could lose everything.” You gritted anger.

“I'll figure this shit out.” Mike held your shoulders with gloved hands. “You won't get in trouble, all right? I promise.”

“Mike…” You trailed off this response when Armando grumbled from the sofa.

Clenching through pain, Armando woke up this time and sat up while shirtless. Bandages helped the wounds.

“Hey. Take it easy, man. We got this.” Lowrey cautioned his son.

“Who's that?” Revealing slightly accented English, Aretas looked at you, drained.

“One of my friends helped out.” Mike introduced you during terrible circumstances.

“Hi.” Lifting your hand, you offered kindness while greeting Armando. “We've patched you up.”

“Thank you.” Aretas expressed gratitude despite everything.

“Of course.” You still checked this stranger regardless.

Lingering grief and exhaustion pooled his deep brown eyes.

No matter what happens next, you just wanted this man to heal.

****

Sometime later, you've returned home from work and discovered that several cars parked in the driveway.

Even Detective Lowrey's classic Porsche beamed past moonlight, and your thoughts jumbled.

Entering the garage, you opened this following door but almost hopped within seconds:

“Surprise!” Mike Lowrey brightened the kitchen lights, and this AMMO squad cheered to celebrate your birthday.

This adorable cake towered as weapons expert Kelly stood beside tech genius Dorn.

“Thank you, everyone!” You smiled. Even Mike's partner and best friend Marcus Burnett chuckled over dessert.

“Make a wish!” Marcus would offer the plan every year.

Closing your eyes, you kept thoughts private and leaned forward, blowing out candles.

Once you turned around, Armando stood in perfect health wearing this random cap.

“Take off the hat, Armando!” Mike laughed this time, and everyone cheered even louder.

Aretas left the barbershop with this buzz cut and held flowers, opening both arms to embrace you.

Happy endings became real.

[lizard-tail]

A really interesting piece on Geto.

There are quite a few parts where I really agree with you concerning your thoughts, like his saviour complex or his lack of self-reflection and his black-and-white thinking regarding his 'Strong protect the weak' philosophy and how it easily switches when it doesn't fit into his world view anymore.

It's interesting to see your headcanon regarding his family, because sadly we know basically nothing about it. We all can only extrapolate from the few scant info we get. Tbh I also think his family is middle class, secure and educated, though I don't think they are Tokyo-based and more small town based. The disappearance of his parents was only noticed days after the village massacre and I think if they were Tokyo-based (meaning really good jobs) their coworkers would have noticed them going missing and an investigation would have been launched from the non-sorcerer side which would most likely include talking to their underaged son that also resides in the same city. But that's only me extrapolating things a bit differently than you.

I also love the fact that you talk about Maki, the main injured party by Geto, not getting any kind of closure. Which is actually a nice parallel to Geto himself, who couldn't get any closure about Toji. And both than wield the same weapon of their personal antagonist after.

But I do disagree on some things. You say you disagree a lot with the thinking of Geto being maternal/feminine Codes, but it's something explicitly mentioned by Gege and others (Gege stating twice that Geto could get pregant [https://www.reddit.com/r/Jujutsufolk/comments/1bipkq7/reminder_that_homosexualsquared_has_talked_about/?rdt=35365])

(Geto's love being described as maternal [https://x.com/strabrrykiss/status/1792168602130387301?s=46&t=fRFF_o0I99NKUvzHwQHykA])

So the maternal-codedness comes from official sources and is, despite how you may feel about it or its execution, actually authorial intent.

You also mention how he never reaches out about being lonely or needing help, and while I do understand what you feel, in my opinion it's straight up real to life regarding mental illness. Because when you do suffer from mental illness the most difficult thing you ever have to do is reach out for help. It's fake it, 'til you make it, but sadly you'll never make it and will only reach rock bottom.

But yes, I hate that many shove the responsibility on Gojo or Shoko. Because it was 100% not their responsibility or fault. It's a complete failure of the system and adults, especially the teachers, around them. In many ways it was Yaga's responsiblity (and if course Geto's but I'm not talking about his individual actions right now, but how the system around him failed to support him). And in some ways he acknowledges that after the baseball game in his talk with Gakuganji. In comparison to the present times it seems to Gojo/Geto/Shoko times the students were absolutely unsupervised and left without any support system. Geto's massacre and absconding was noticed only 5 days later, meaning 5 days without any kind of contact between Geto and others was normal (even between Geto and Gojo/Shoko). And it was the past but cell phones still existed. I mean around that time the first iPhones came on the market. And no matter his strength or saviour complex, Geto was still an underaged child. And teachers have a mandated responsibility towards their students, especially if they are still underage. The absolute carelessness of the teachers, adults and higher ups is mindblowing. I guess it's more suprising that child soldiers completely going ax-crazy on a murder spree did not happen more often. (Sidenote: Gojo deserves all the praise that he actually changed that, and serves as a great support person for his students)

I'll join you in lighting up a cigarette, I can never get enough of writing and reading up on Geto and how others view him and his actions.

Thoughts on Geto and the dichotomy between how he's perceived and how he acts

While in the middle of a fic, I had to put some thoughts together because I use Geto as the main POV character, and I simply have a lot of thoughts about him and the way he's treated, both by Gege himself, and the fandom.

First and foremost, obviously this is a fictional character who commits entirely fictional crimes and violence and everyone is allowed to play with him, project onto him, and empathize with him in any way they prefer. That said, I get to ramble and air out some thoughts because out of all characters in JJK I feel like Geto is the most contentious and I'm never happy with how either the likers or haters address him.

I've always thought how interesting it is that Geto comes from a normal family (and I would assume comfortably middle class and based in Tokyo - so very well-off and, well-liked, with educated parents and a secure household) and is born with a power of this caliber.

Often, I feel that the fandom talks about him being repressed by non-sorcerers and jujutsu society alike, but I personally think there's a lot of parallels to be made between him and men's entitlement in a societal aspect (please don't call me a misandrist just yet, stay with me!!)

Call this a huge reach, but it's like, for one - Geto understands how rare it is to be Special Grade, and there's no way that kind of title doesn't go to your head. Especially when you learn this as a teenager and find out you're not only Super Duper Ultra Special but that there's thousands of people who come from generations with special powers that will never come even remotely close to your level, no matter how hard they try.

I believe it's mentioned in an interview (with Namakura Yuichi I think?) where it's stated Geto is first classified as Grade One and works his way up, which yes, does imply that he works for his position. But he's also momentarily put into a classification that very few other sorcerers can ever get to. Not to mention as well that his power is simply strong by design. Yes, if he has no curses, he's defenseless, but when he starts gathering a supply, the sky is the limit. And apart from the unpleasant taste and sensation, Geto is never shown to struggle obtaining any curse. He does work for his position, but he already starts at a level that for tons of others is the very top of the ceiling.

He also talks very confidently about who 'the weak' are. Which is often framed as him being Gojo's opposite in high school, being the levelheaded and kindhearted one. But to me, it seems more like being condescending rather than genuinely philanthropic. Even if, to himself, he is.

Unlike Gojo, who lashes out because he's a little air-headed and cocky, because he's a teenager that wants to slack off and isn't used to having responsibilities, Geto seems to have a savior complex.

He's the one with the powers, they're the ones who need to be saved.

And it's not like he has a lot of mercy or respect for other sorcerers either - he talks poorly about Utahime. Unintentionally, which might be worse because he both thinks he's doing her a favor but doesn't even address her directly. He treats the other curse users like annoyances, not threats, he eliminates them in much more visceral ways than Gojo does (compare the way Geto beats the living shit out of the old curse manipulator using his fists and raw physical power and the cartoony/ethereal way Gojo's fights are shown before the Toji fight). And at the first sign of non-sorcerers not being the idealized image of a helpless civilian in need of saving who will bow down and thank him for his service, he detaches completely from having any sympathy or even viewing them as human.

[I know, of course, that in the narrative, Geto's downfall is more an explanation for why he was the villain in JJK0 instead of organic character progression, but for the sake of character exploration as I see it happen, suspend your disbelief please]

So really, I think Geto has the potential to be a very believable and excellent villain, but in a completely different direction from how he's represented in canon. Not to get too dark here, but his character arc is almost incel-like. He doesn't jump into supremacy because he just has these beliefs, but there's hints that he already has biases and preconceptions about the world and his position in it. Coupled with the idea that he's never particularly struggled in his personal life, or at least isn't ever shown to, means he's never had to build the self-reflection and neutrality about the world around him.

And yes, Geto does go through a traumatic event, absolutely, but the way he grapples with it is not by addressing being lonely, or being hurt, or overworked, or having his ego-wounded, which does seem really in-line with how a lot of men lash out at the world around them for their disillusionment. Geto admits to himself that he's lonely, but he never reaches out and only isolates further, practically indulging in his own misery. Likewise, a lot of the backlash, from the fandom side, is on Gojo and Shoko for not being the ones to come to Geto and essentially save him, even though they're dealing with their own shit. Even the canon indulges in this subtly, because Gojo's own narrations and flashbacks constantly show how much he regrets losing Geto.

The whole situation is very close to a mirror of the conflict men have when it comes to dealing with rejection as opposed to a lot of women/POC/queer folk, who have to build up their own defense mechanisms, accept the possibility of rejection and how to manage yourself from a very early age. And then that whole thing leads to a state of arrested development and resentment of the world.

To that end, and this is one of the most terminally online things I have ever written down, I feel a very jarring disagreement with all the takes about Geto being a maternal and feminine-coded character. There's nothing wrong with wanting that characterization, naturally, people can do what they want.

But the more I think about Geto and see the way the narratives treats his character, I can't help but feel there's nothing feminine about it. The way Gege writes and treats female characters by and large lacks the mercy and ambiguity Geto receives. The women in JJK are killed, defeated and humiliated, usually with their only purpose in the narrative being helping a man or making a man feel sad, and they're almost never brought up again once they're out of the narrative.

Riko is not her own character - she's a plot device. Her death is mentioned to be pivotal to both Gojo and Geto, but she's never mentioned and never considered. She's basically an afterthought that makes Geto's tragedy sadder.

Geto and his impact on Gojo come back, again and again, without a single mention of what a horrible person he really was and how many people he ended up hurting. Yuuta, who personally saw Geto's cruelty in demeaning Maki and nearly killing her, wants to give him a mercy death. Gojo never moves on from him, even though the very last words Geto shared with him were how much he hated non-sorcerers and how little remose he has for being who he is. Maki, on the other hand, never gets any narrative fulfillment against Geto or Kenjaku (sure, she has an arc where she gets to be a powerhouse and beats Naoya, but we never even get input from her about Geto when she is the one that has arguable been the most hurt by him from the main cast).

So bottom line, I do think Geto is really fascinating, and I think he's just, interesting to extrapolate from. Frankly, to me, the worse he's admitted to be, the worse he acts and the more hated he is, the better he shines as a character. I got pretty much everything out that I wanted to say with that, if I was in a sitcom I'd be lighting my post-coital cigarette right about now.

[cevansbrat0007]

Good Girls & Little White Lies: The Sequel

Summary: You and your best friend are back at it again. Boy, you really need to learn how to stop telling overprotective men the truth. It just might save your ass. Literally. 

Steve Rogers x Black!Reader, Sam Wilson x WOC!OFC (Mya)

Warnings: Ridiculousness, Bratty Reader, Bratty OFC, General Naughtiness, Angry Avengers, Angry Big Daddy, Maintenance Punishments (mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Angry Steve Rogers, Brief Jail Time.  

A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy part two as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Title: Good Girls & Little White Lies: The Sequel “This is bad.” Mya whispers.

“Yup.” You respond, refusing to look at her. 

“I mean, like, really, really bad.” You nod in agreement. What else could you do? 

“Like this is easily the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” Your best friend is literally vibrating next to you.

“I get it, Mya.” You stare at the ceiling, trying to come up with a way to get out of this without alerting a single member of The Avengers. “We’re fucked. I know. I get it. I see it. I sense it.”

“Okay, bitch. But we’re in jail.” Oh, you hadn’t noticed.

“No shit, Mya.” 

“Do you know what Sam is going to do to me when he finds out? I’ll tell you! My butt is toast. Actual burnt toast. And so is yours.” Well, your friend did have a point. Steve Rogers would definitely be busting out the belt for this offense. You should’ve definitely stayed at the mall.

“Ahem.” Your eyes shoot to the woman sitting across from you. What was her name again? Oh that’s right. Sharon. The promoter/owner of Club Carnal. She was the reason you were in this mess. 

That woman is tough as nails. You’d give her that. But if it came down to facing a certain Super Soldier or her you’d take your chances. Besides, you’d always wanted to shank someone. Just to see what it was like. Maybe there was something wrong with you.  

“What?!” You and Mya both bark at her. The last thing either of you wanted was to hear this woman speak. 

“I’ll get you out..” Mya appears skeptical, and you know your face can’t be much better.

“You’re the one that got us in here.” You point out. Nudging Mya when you see her looking way too excited. Damn it girl. You must test before you trust. Sharon rolls her eyes. Okay, rude. 

“You weren’t supposed to find out about the drugs. This was a sting operation that we had been planning for months. You weren’t supposed to get involved.” Huh?

“That’s right. So if you drop the pity party schtick and give me just a little time, I’ll have you out of here in a jif.”  

Three hours later…

You and your understandably Nervous Nellie of a friend finally walk out of the station, only to be greeted by the sight of Natasha Romanoff. You were almost certain that you’d be dealing with the boys now. “Hey ladies.” She greets you, leaning in for a hug. “Figured you two could use a ride.”

You nod gratefully. Mya hops into the back seat, as do you. “Umm, so on a scale of 1-10…how mad are they?” The redhead cocks her head to the side with a frown. “Last I checked, they were somewhere between locking you in a steel cage and banning you from seeing each other forever. That’s why I’m on chauffeur duty - I felt like they needed to cool down.”

As if on cue, your phone vibrates in your pocket. Speak of the devil. His ears must have been burning.

“Umm hi, Stevie.” 

“Y/N”. He grits out through what must be clenched teeth. “So, funny story, doll. I got this call from Commissioner Lee…to apologize for the mixup you two had. And at first, I thought he was joking. But then, imagine my surprise to hear he had my sweet girl and Sam’s lovely lady sitting in a cell. WHY DID I GET THAT CALL?” 

“Yeah, umm that’s crazy. And let me be the first to tell you that I’m really sorry and it will never happen again.” Mya grabs your arm, shaking you. She shows you her phone. Aww, shit. Sam was calling too. With a brief nod, you decide to get this call over with. One time. No need to struggle through it twice. Your day had been hard enough already.

“Steve.” You interrupt into the phone. “Stevie. I know you won’t be surprised by this, but um, Mya is with me right now.” You hear both Steve and Sam groan into the phone. Awesome.

“You two were supposed to be going to the mall, not a freaking club! Come on!” Steve bellows.

“It wasn’t our cocaine!” Mya yells into the receiver before you can stop her. You wrench the phone back, a look of horror on your face. She slams her hands over her mouth, clearly shocked by her own response. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Real smooth.”

Oh. My. God.

“Why the fuck would you lead with that?” You snarl quietly. She shrugs, looking more lost than normal. You punch her in the arm. “We were supposed to build up to the drug part.” She punches you back, making you yelp. You forgot that the bitch was rocking rings.

“I’m sorry.” She sputters. Shaking her fist in what must have been obvious pain. Good. You hope she suffered. “I panicked. I went rogue. I’m sorry.”

 She notices that you’re about to slug her again. “I’m not used to being associated with drug dealers.”

“And I am?” You squawk incredulously. She shrugs. “Bitch, I don’t know your life like that.” 

And now the boys were yelling. Totally talking over each other. You could barely make out a single word. This was completely and utterly fantastic. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Sam growls. 

“Y/N! Are you telling me that you willingly purchased illegal narcotics?”

“Put Mya on! Princess, you’re better than this. It’s a false high –” 

Oh. Sweet. Baby. Jesus. 

“Slow your roll there, Tweety Bird. No one took any drugs, alright?” You snipe into the phone before you can catch yourself. Great, first it was Big Bird, and now it was Tweety. When would you learn? Mya snickers beside you, enjoying your mistake a little too much for your liking. 

“Stop calling Sam names!” Steve growls. Never, you silently vow to yourself.     

Natasha, the epic lifesaver she is, holds her hand out for the phone. You are happy to pass it over. “Look boys, I’ll have these two peaches to you within the hour and you can yell at them then. But in the meantime, I highly suggest you take a walk.” With that, she ends the call and tosses the phone back to you. “Alright, girls. I know you’ve had a rough go of it, but what’s say we hit a drive-thru or something? I’ll even make sure to pick a slow one. My treat.”

 God, you were pretty sure you were in love. “Sounds amazing.” You were starving. 

Two hours later…

When you finally pull up to The Avengers compound, your pulse begins to pound. Poor Mya was back to vibrating again. Your men are waiting for you outside. Arms crossed and wearing matching scowls. This might be the angriest you’d ever seen them.

“Romanoff, you told us you’d have our girls delivered to us over an hour ago.” Steve pins the master assassin with a hard look. She shrugs and walks away mumbling: “What? We got hungry.” Sam huffs out a breath and crooks one long, imposing finger at Mya. The order comes in loud and clear.

“Get over here, Y/N. Now, please.” You pout before trudging over, only to be surprised when your Stevie takes you into his arms. He even kisses the top of your head. You peek over to see Sam doing the same with your best friend. Well this was certainly…unexpected. 

“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea here, ladies.” Sam grunts out, leaning over to tweak your nose. “We’re still absolutely furious with you.”

“He’s right about that. But it also doesn’t mean that we’re not happy that you’re both okay.” Steve pecks your lips. “And”, Sam chimes in, “we also figured that since you two seem to really love getting into trouble together, it only made sense to discuss punishments together.” You blanch at his words.

“Yep, it’s clear you little hellions need to be taken in hand. You need more discipline than what we’ve been giving you. That’s going to change. Today.” Mya lets out a sad little wail. You feel like kicking Captain America in the shin and running away.

He motions for you all to sit over on a nearby bench before pulling you into his lap. Sam copies him as if this has all been planned. “Now what that means is that we’re about to have a very important discussion about weekly maintenance spankings, so I suggest you listen and listen well.”

“Please, no. Not that. Anything but that!” You notice your bestie begin to struggle against his hold. Her boyfriend sighs and bounces her lightly on his powerful thighs. You lean back against your own boyfriend’s muscled chest and contemplate the pros and cons of decking him in his perfect teeth. 

“If I were you, I’d strongly consider calming down, little girl. You brought this on yourself.” He spares you a pointed glance as well. Asshole. “And you know how much Big Daddy loves to help.” Sam chuckles at that. Oh, you’d had just about enough of this Foghorn Leghorn motherfucker.

“Mmm. Your new paddle is already on its way, Y/N. I even had your name engraved on it. Special rush order too.” You moan at that. “No, I don’t want to hear any complaining.” Stevie mutters into your hair. “But until it gets here, you’ll get my hand or my belt.” 

“Same goes for you, Mya. Also, you two are grounded indefinitely. We’ll reconsider when my man, Cap and I, see that we’ve got our good girls back.” 

“Yep, and I think it’s time we got started, don’t you?” Uh, nope. With a nod, Stevie stands with you in his arms. Sam once again follows his lead.      

“You’re not going to spank us, like together, like, in the same room are you?” You whisper into his ear, briefly glancing back to check-on your sulking best friend. He laughs softly and winks down at you. 

“Only when you’ve earned it, sweetheart. Only when you’ve earned it.”

Good Lord in heaven! Talk about an incentive to work on your attitude!