#who knew id be watching the same men at 20 as i did at 9

[ninihowlter]

officially my 20th birthday 🫡

@danielhowell @amazingphil you want to post a gaming video soooooo bad to commemorate this milestone

[nightguide]

SOUTH PARK: a note to God in the procession of heart and KEANU REEVES (season 16 ep 9) prt 1.

film making is a quality to be endured. a baby walking is just the same as Keanu Reeves fight scene in a single shot.

now watch me dance, watch me talk and watch how you will never grow up like the holy director, Mr. James. Cameron<3

Cartman tried to instigate the viewers heart in a joke but like all jokes take a dimensional hit (offense), Keanu Reeves wakes up one morning and thinks 'who is the actual viewer?' and he later turns to the British public he calls 'Americans' in which he reflects himself off from everyday inside a dome.

enough about Keanu, Hollywood is just an American store (trader joes, Costco, or any other branch that provides excessive weight gain but no heart or guilty pleasure to give a fck about or why are you even there.....) Hollywood teaches you that everything in there you feed off is a store, your weight is gained by how much you eat without giving a shit, without giving a shit about your diet, about your family's lives, you'll just eat yourself to death which is why you keep trading your body parts for....... a... heart?.... but... they don't want it...so they'll do the second... best thing.. which is.... pray?????????? the islamic re-introduction is how and why Cillian Murphy is now exalted on Islamic bias cuz all he does is stare at a screen and moves on with it, the man does not speak or do anything, it's why Keanu Reeves is into gun porn and Cillian just makes guns that doesn't involve porn, he knows what not to do which is why i'm technically the second best coming to Keanu Reeves life cuz he got no shit compared to what he did in the past 25+ years compared to one dog year in Cillian's life is 'how the fck did you sell your soul and keep yourself so cool that way, why don't you want to just play with a gun... oh' (Keanu's dialogue to Cillian almost all the time after Keanu saw me get an award for being best actor on the Oscars for... doing the.... oh... Keanu realised that Cillian does not do but he says lines that are too meaningful... no. he knows how to hide his beauty by exposing it, Cillian is a regular woman outside of Hollywood to Keanu's butch lesbian and nobody wants him and he is long gone old and forgetting)

STREETS OF PHILADELPHIA IS PLAYING AT THE BACKGROUND, MY LORD💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 he wanders to believe in a new future as 'that guy' *that's the subtext of 'what if Keanu Reeves were a different man but the same man died in him a while ago since Alexandra Grant did not use her pension privileges to manifest social media to her life right now*

Alexandra Grant is one of the team, she knew shit to go back after shit to smell shit in the air. she calls it oxygen and to her it has a 'strange smell'

if you did not know who James Cameron is then you're wrong to think Mel Gibson was uprooting his idea to produce Titanic to make people think differently about him now by taking his ide.... no. Mel Gibson, once upon a time i watched a Simpsons episode on Mel Gibson and i referenced SP for it, and it's not as crazy as Mel Gibson to remake Homer's idea for everyone that they'll be laughing at for the next 20 years which is a Hollywood day and it was one longest day because actually, James Cameron did not direct the Titanic, he went after the ship to look at in the end, Mel Gibson directed it and Homer Simpson directed the episode of SP with Cartman playing today's society's problematic scheme cuz the moment endured is when stupid men are the smartest men in the world cuz he is a girl. dad. THEY KNOW HOW TO RUN THE WORLD. SIMPSONS PLAY YOUR MIND, MEL GIBSON WENT THERE AND GONE BUT SP IS FOREVER AND JAMES CAMERON LIKED SHIPS

this episode (season 11 ep 1) is actually directed by Stone and Parker (South Park creators to you dumbasses who don't know who the legends you tried to watch in secret when your mothers are gone, she knows your porno stash too but is being a good Dad while you hate your actual Mom (Dad)

(Simpson as acting 'Stone and Parker' makes a reasonable offence to honour the actual movie he 'made' with Gibson in the 90's version, make it preachy to give offence to actual state of guard, like what the hell was he trying to claim the senate for, what and why did Cartman (Gibson) was claiming the overall attitude in the UK was possessing the ideals of the overall limits in UK if it wasn't there, how the fck did the 3rd countries become okay with... Pakistan? Kyrgyzstan?...... *gracie films end credits shows up*

it's just that but with more enthusiasm

THE HOMO-EROGENY AND THE ENTHUSIASM OF

ADELE!

fuck you too, cuz if Demi gets a mention then i'm just as psychotic as Mel Gibson with no.. wait a sec, i am him. legendary, but possibly thinking, i'm not as stupid to think where my algorithm will go cuz my crazy bitchass knows my heart to think i am not a

socially recluse hasbeen Gomez and what her ideology is just as fucked up as Tom Cruise promoting Catholicism like it wasn't even there cuz how is a rich homemade woman like her have a brand associated with a genetic condition she doesn't even fcking have

like what the fck is that?

weight = goals. the picture you see is just me but you would say if 'Rare' came to help her, a second forthcoming brand of grandeur and hope that would have saved millions if she was not as Honey Boo Boo's style of 'healthy'. HBB promotes heart and grandeur, like youth needs to be reclaimed with greatness, a happy father and a trustworthy mother is what you call 'Rare'

just imagine how many people said 'and I'll bet there's somebody else out there, to tell me I'm rare, to make me feel rare', with that kind of voice, you could have set old ideals apart and put the astrologer become wholesome man in the end (i got your back) Tom Cruise out of his job, like there wasn't anyone out there like Selena who would have saved Demi's life from a tragic overdose in twenty eighte- wait, Selena created the universe. let's make her think she was the most illuminated form in the world that could have saved her from an impending doom from Bieber's tragic fairytale that could have been in the Holy hell of forever from 'somebody' killing her from another likely to Lovato's actual appearance (healthy people to her is those who like people)

PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE WORLD OF AN ACTUAL MAN. NOT DIRECTOR, BUT ASSOCIATE.. NO, JUST AN ACTUAL MAN TO A CELEBRITY THAT ACTED LIKE HE HAD A GREAT HOBBY MANIFESTED TO A LIFE JOURNEY HE CAN NEVER FORGET, WHAT IF HE HAD A ☆DREAM☆

Keanu's orgasm is just 'what if i was a working class man'

47 Ronin does not limit, he only shed James Cameron's light by taking away the actual personification of the universe if he were not James Cameron, like there is much more than the empires told from just Japanese myths and fables about you not giving a shit, i understand when Hiroyuki Sanada committed casually because the arts of Japanese social justice came from and i remember (paraphrased cuz the movie was a long ago since i watched it) 'farmers hands got more value cuz clean hands are of ones like a pig' and it hit me in the face when nothing more than Keanu wanted was to think the world of 'demons' were just Muslim women liking to work for a living which has had so much hands and art than the average man, casually; Keanu made fun of Pashtun's (tribe in Pakistan that has more heart and heritage than Keanu's life in one go if Ted had a philosophical reason to go back, he would have learned on how to be a better man. but the idea solidified and went to the worlds most unexpected. (welcome aboard, girls) Bill and Ted in real life is just Syd&Olivia)

they are the worlds most stoned people in the planet in need of a heart breaking in a heart breaking, they like a casually off standish old man who doesn't give a shit and makes the world look like the fucking crime seeking justice they need (i love you, man) let me introduce you to

Malcolm fucking Tucker. is Rufus, George Carlin's biggest dream come true is a man of oxygen relating to the women his age and just beating life up senselessly in modern day America, not just a pornographic nightmare they had in the 80's in time travel (God forgive Alex Winter)

that guy, in case your dumbasses forgot names of celebrities you forget but never forgot. (the phase where you don't want to call out a celebrities name but you already know, shows that you're in love but who the fuck calls it that anymore, women are sad. they don't want sex but someone out there, call him granddad but

this guy ain't your age either, and neither is he granddad, call him how you want it but if you like someone, you like them but you like them cuz the amount of energy it takes... you watched it havent you? so you hate Malcolm Tucker but like him as the.. no. you don't deserve him, he ain't your Daddy. no. he OWNS YOU like the mega corporations he has under his big di-)

same fucking guy which is why you like Ted but you hate Bill, and that says something cuz you hate Ted but you don't want Bill to like Bill cuz DILF Bill is much more... call him ugly you stupid sonofabitch. some depressed Keanu fangirl, fuck you

ummmmmmm. how is your rights not even.. just drink.. water (Cartman makes changes and Kyle hates.. him?... is the show even real anymore or is Kyle the most irritating.... wait a sec he's not even there anymore...??.............)

SAG-AFTRA mocks AI but ends up building a quality of life of an average 'Brit'. makes a truthful (mockumentary) also follows the breakthrough of satanic comeuppance of a melodic dinosaur, Randy Newman is the guest host of the body of the heartbreaker (life was a toy story but only adults pretend to get the reference, so you're not even a true Disney Pixar fan either, HA ha)

porno is toys but you're too dumb to make that reference (fuck you Zoe Lewis)

viewers forget that Token (Tolkien for the Rwandan kind)

is rich.

how did a black man change the show when the concept of the whole fucking Song

is based on River Song's timeline.

Randy Newman generated a new psycho-neo cult that manifested on the Doctor's timeline that Black people (alt-white) have a goal that they would actually shut people up forever.... and of course Ncuti (pronounced 'shootee') is scoring up a future River Song regenerate to get laid with him on-screen cuz the nigga finessed a shot that wasn't even his cuz the creators of South Park made evidence that James Cameron's dream was to recast Titanic like one brown and one black to be together like that, Shootee doesn't want to fucking tell anybody why he's on Tumblr right now waiting for my post to come through when i discovered the anima-

Kingston said 'keep moving *makes a contorted face to mimic me cuz i know Kingston in real life.*

yeah, Shootee. that message was for you and it was personal. she really would have digged in on big black productions

keep writing fan fictions cuz this could be you one day. do you remember when time magazine put you guys as 'person of the year' in the year 2006? why did you not put that up on your CV or Resume to keep you looking classy, this is no generative score that you could have been... an asshole.. but you're.. the worlds most... greatest asshole

like where the hell is your honour

*cartoon in moral dilemma when the story never ends with toys but the player doesn't know when to stop giving in*, so Newman is technically me right now. it's all the kids who grew up with action figures being the guise of 'youth and giving in' does not appeal to them anymore but it's the ones who played way too much (actors) that appeared to be deeper than literal filmmakers (sorry Cameron) that made directors wonder why Cillian Murphy got an Oscar when his personality looks like this.

time stamp (16:10 - 16:48)

Goddamn

Keanu's pandemonium. and Cameron's retelling of the Titanic with the actual ship he found, he will later know his life's work with Cillian is actually worth it because he has got more Vanguard than Keanu's award worth mentioning or making the original South Park creators look like Daedalus to Keanu's Icarus. there is no retelling where and how Perdix became Weinsteins transitioning to Bruce Jenner's homophobia down at the lakes at the Hampton's when he decides to drop tha bar of soap.

this is kids entertainment to disgust adult minds, like have you seen the actual thought process of what went into the kids shows today that makes it look so damn innocent? that's what happens if the creators of South Park convince you 'anyone can watch it, just turn it off or fuck you for not telling them that YOU loved them' the paedophilia persona comes from unwarranted parents now who are excruciatingly jealous of their kids success that wants society to fuck them over because they don't have a brain or actual heart to do anything about their lives either.

(i will do another part)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 13 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer finally meets Reader’s roommate while the two prepare for a picnic. After Spencer lectures Reader on the dangers of the outdoors, the two face a different kind of danger at the bank.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Gun violence mention Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Although I’d been inside (Y/n)’s apartment several times now, I couldn’t say I’d ever actually looked much at my surroundings. It felt strange to admit that, mostly because I felt like I was doing something wrong; like I was a traitor to my job.

But then again, it felt worse to try to profile her. The few times I had made it obvious, she had made it very clear it was unappreciated. I could understand why.

So, before we even got to her door, I tried to quiet the voices screaming in my head, telling me to look for clues to all the unknowns about her. It wasn’t because I was expecting her to be hiding anything; I just wanted to know everything about her.

I could simply wait for her to tell me, though. We had all the time in the world, right?

“Laura, I’m home!” She called out immediately after breaching the entrance, following the exclamation with a very hurried request. “Spencer is here so please don’t be weird!”

The response was a calm, steady series of footfalls down the hall. The girl stuck her head around the corner, peeking at the two of us with a devilish grin.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Reid.”

I told myself I probably shouldn’t be this nervous. If she was friends with (y/n), she was most likely a decent person. But let’s just say women around that age had never been particularly kind to me. They brought to the surface a lot of memories I’d tried very hard to bury.

She didn’t put her hand out to shake, which told me they’d already probably talked about me more than I’d have liked. ‘Wait,’ I thought to myself, ‘Is it okay to profile her roommate?’

“I’m going to go get a basket together. Wait in the living room, my kitchen is a disaster.”

Before I could argue, she had already disappeared, leaving me stranded in the hallway with her roommate who looked ready to cause trouble. I just hoped it wouldn’t the kind that revolved around me.

She waved a hand in front of her, motioning for me to make my way into the living room. Once we were there, she immediately took a seat, but I remained standing. Felt better to be able to escape.

The silence was awkward and suffocating. I could feel her staring at me, but she wasn’t saying anything. It felt wrong to look back.

“She says you read people for a living.” Her voice had a hint of skepticism in it I’d grown used to. “Sounds kind of like what psychics say.”

“Yeah, we use a lot of the same strategies, too. They just aren’t as honest about it as we are.”

“What do you see here?”

That was what got me to turn around and face her. She looked so comfortable, curled up on the couch.

“Pardon me?” The question caught me off guard, even though it shouldn’t have. I’d heard it so many times.

“What does our apartment say about us?” She asked, clearly not understanding why it was an inappropriate thing to ask. Or more likely, just didn’t care. Curiosity is a powerful thing.

I cleared my throat before looking back away and saying, “I agreed not to profile (y/n).”

“Well, can you at least tell which stuff is hers?”

I’m sure she was just checking to see if I was legitimate or just scamming her. Maybe she was checking to see if I was too good at it.

She didn’t need to worry. (Y/n) could handle herself. She wasn’t tricked easily. In fact, most of my intrigue and concern surrounding her unknowns was just how good she was at hiding things.

It wasn’t until I had registered that question and was staring at her walls with a newfound sense of purpose, that I realized how little I knew about her past. Then again, I don’t really care about her past.

It had made her who she was today, and that was the woman I loved.

My fingers brushed over old, cracked plastic on DVD cases displayed on a shelf beside the console center.

I didn’t even notice I was smiling at first, realizing that she’d kept the physical cases despite all the streaming services. She clearly still used the discs, too.

“These... are hers.”

“How can you tell?” The response in the form of a question told me I was right, and only made me feel even more deeply. Despite my greatest efforts to not look so excited by something so silly, I turned back around with my lips still curled in an awkward smile.

“Educated guess. Adrenaline.”

“What?” The confusion in her voice reminded me that she wasn’t aware of one of my deepest personality flaws.

“Research shows that only about 10% of the population are so called ‘adrenaline junkies,’ people who enjoy roller coasters and horror movies. It’s more often men than women, but it’s hard to tell because of the way we’re socialized.”

If I had turned around to face her, I probably would have seen the dead stare she was giving me during my rant.

“Regardless, people tend to either love horror or hate it. So, I considered the fact that (y/n) seems to enjoy things like... sneaking into bars with fake IDs and… other risky behavior.”

Well, that was close.

“But what really gave it away was the fact they’re not dusty, which means they’re still being used despite all of these movies being available on streaming services I know for a fact she uses. Considering how patient she is with my own Luddite tendencies I just figur—“

“Wow.”

The word cut off my train of thought, and I realized that I had barely breathed since I’d started. Wincing in response to the dumbfounded look on the poor girl’s face, I gave a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“A little bit,” she said with her own little pity laugh. I’m sure (y/n) had told her enough about me that this wasn’t that big of a surprise.

“I do that when I’m nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” she said like it was the easiest advice in the world, “You’re right about her, you know.”

Staring down at my feet, I wondered why the confirmation from her roommate meant so much to me. I hadn’t been actively trying to figure out things about my girlfriend — it felt wrong. But for whatever reason, knowing I had the ability to figure it out meant more when it was about her.

Laura laughed again, craning her neck to look around the corner before she quietly spoke. “She says it was the other way around, but she’s the one who convinced me to streak the lawn.”

Ah, the age-old tradition of UVA students. It was so easy to picture her stripping down to nothing in the dead of the night to prance down the length of manicured grass. My own personal little pixie.

If it was just an attempt to calm my nerves, it was working. Putting the focus back on (y/n) was a surefire way to bring out the best in me. She just had that effect on me.

“I am entirely unsurprised by this information,” I said before walking over to the other side of the room, noting the distinct lack of pictures of family among the shelves that clearly belonged to her.

Don’t read into it, I told myself, she might just keep them somewhere else.

“She also drank an entire water bottle of vodka during a full day of classes one time, just because I bet that she wouldn’t.”

I scoffed at the image of her drunk. It’d been a while since I’d seen her like that, and both times had been remarkably unique. She’s a dead giveaway; I was surprised she hadn’t been caught.

“I can’t say I relate to that,” I sadly admitted. Sometimes it was hard to realize that if I’d known her at the same age, we probably wouldn’t have gotten along. I used to hate people like that.

Granted, they had usually also hated me.  

“She did mention you were a genius or something. I kind of figured. That’s her type.”

Well, that was information I couldn’t just gloss over. I furrowed my brow with a disbelieving smile, finally looking at the girl who was avidly watching my every move.

“Is it? I always pictured her with someone with more… Kinaesthetic intelligence.”

She gave me that look people give me when I said something weird, but continued nonetheless, “I don’t really know what that means, but she takes school pretty seriously. Honestly, probably a little too much. Part of why I dared her.”

“It’s strange to imagine her in class.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but once it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. And I was glad I couldn’t, because I was very curious about the answer.

“She’s the girl who knows all the answers and shuts down all the stupid guys trying to talk over her.”

I knew that those behaviors weren’t exactly favored in classrooms, having myself been the one at the brunt end of the bullying that followed.

“It’s pretty impressive.” She was being genuine when she spoke, and I was inclined to agree. At the same time the thought crossed my mind, I found a picture of her perched on the lap of the Thomas Jefferson statute.

God, I loved that girl.

“I bet she is.”

Almost on call, (y/n) poked her head into the room with wary eyes, looking at me as I awkwardly waved before looking back to her roommate.

“Laura, are you being weird?”

The girl rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond. Instead, she turned to me like it was my question to answer. Afraid to spoil any tenuous, newly formed loyalties, I shook my head no.

“Okay…” She only barely accepted my answer, “But if you say some dumb shit and get arrested, I’m not bailing you out.”

Briefly sticking out her tongue as she walked past me, she continued on her way. I couldn’t help but give that lovestruck, idiotic grin I always gave when she was around. If you’d told me I would’ve ever felt like this about someone who felt the same about me, I wouldn’t have believed you. Part of me still didn’t believe she could ever love me the same as I loved her.

Turning back to the girl cringing at the blatant intimacy shared in a simple glance, I immediately became awkward again.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring my handcuffs.” I joked, showing my hands in a strange display of innocence.

She… took a different approach.

“I know for a fact she has a few pairs in her room if you need one.”

A high-pitched whine nearly escaped my throat at the casual mention, and I cleared my throat and turned to look at her with a very unconvincing laugh. “W-what?”

“You have to know it’s impossible for her to keep her sex life a secret,” she droned with a bored expression, “I live one room over.”

“Right,” I nodded.

There was an extended, never ending silence as she just let me stew in my own discomfort. It didn’t seem to bother her one bit, because the longer I avoided her eyes the more she seemed to smile.

“I’m uncomfortable.” I finally admitted, and she just shook her head, running her hand through her hair before giving me one final hard look.

“You’re sweet. You make her happy. I appreciate that.”

My mouth scrunched in a humble half-smile, my hands finding their way back into my pockets as I tried to consider the reality I’d found myself in. Of all the infinite possibilities, I got to exist in the version of the world where I loved a girl who loved me back.

“It’s all her,” I finally said with a voice that crackled far too much for my liking, “I don’t do anything. I’m just the lucky one she decides to keep around.”

Laura flashed an approving grin, but then got up when she heard the familiar, happy feet beating down the hallway. (Y/n) burst out from around the corner, her arms full with a picnic basket and a blanket she clearly owned for just these occasions.

“Ready to go, babe?”

“Lead the way.”

I’d have followed her anywhere.

—————————————————

It was the perfect time of year for a picnic, despite Spencer’s insistence that there was no such thing. Once we were in the park, his whining dramatically decreased. Maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was the smile on my face, but he was certainly in brighter spirits.

He even let me rest my head on his lap, his legs crossed underneath me while he alternated between staring off at the trees slowly losing their color to autumn and my quiet contentment as I nibbled on an assortment of fruits.

There was no awkward silence or hidden darkness in this day, and even the sweetest strawberry couldn’t be more refreshing. To be here with Spencer, soaking in the late Summer sun, was all I could ever ask for.

But I was also eager to take advantage of the uncharacteristic softness between us. It wasn’t often we could share moments like this. Between his job and all our problems over the past few months, I wasn’t sure when we could be like this again.

“Let’s talk about something fun.” I blurted out, earning an intrigued look from my boyfriend. He readjusted his position, leaning back on his hands so he could look down at me easier.

“Okay, like what?”

“Don’t make fun of me…” The way he was looking at me gave me no hope he would actually listen to me, but I continued anyway, “I have conversation starters I looked up.”

He snorted while trying to suppress his chuckle. “Of course you do.”

Dropping my mouth open, I reached up to lightly smack him on the face for immediately doing exactly what I had asked him not to.

“What? Like you’re the epitome of sociable, Dr. Reid?”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to stop the laughter that kept bubbling in his chest over something that was decidedly not that funny at all. We were just that stupid kind of happy where everything was wonderful.

“I’m just not surprised!” He reminded, then nodded for me to continue, “Go on, tell me one.”

“Tell me something you’re scared of.” I shot back, excited to hear the answer.

“The dark.” It was the most anticlimactic, stereotypical answer I could have imagined. It was my turn to scoff now, hardly believing the answer to be real.

“Seriously? You’re an FBI Agent, Spencer.”

“You told me not to make fun of you, but then you make fun of me? Unfair. I didn’t sign up for this scrutiny.” His legs started to move under me as he pretended like he was about to dump me from his lap and leave me here.

“Fine!” I shouted, reaching my hands up to grab his face. Although they fumbled awkwardly from my strange position, he took the time to lean to the side and kiss my palm lightly. “Favorite memory of the two of us.”

He blew out a long breath, his eyes squinted like they always did when he was in deep contemplation. But something told me something actually jumped straight to his mind, but he was holding it back for some other reason.

“That’s not fair. There are too many.”

I wasn’t falling for it. I flicked his nose before pulling my hand back, smiling at the way he jerked away like it actually hurt him. Giant baby.

“No cop out answers, old man. Favorite one!”

Spencer just sighed, letting his head fall back as he actually thought about what he was about to say for once in his life. I took the brief moment without his scrutiny to reflect on just how lucky I was to be able to see him like this.

“Okay. So, remember when we went to the bakery in Downtown?” He asked like I could have forgotten.

“Pauls? Yes, I remember.”

They’re legends in the area, but a total pain to try and get. You have to get there first thing in the morning and wait in a ridiculous line. But they were always worth it. Spencer had told me he’d never been, and I just couldn’t let such an injustice stand.

“While we were waiting in that ridiculous line, I remember looking at you and just seeing how excited you were for a donut, even at 7 in the morning.”

“That’s objectively the best time for a donut.” I interrupted with the most matter-of-fact tone I could emulate.

“Right,” he laughed, recalling how I kept reminding him of that fact while in line, “Well, we got to the front and before I could even talk, you had already ordered one for me.”

It took me a second to remember exactly what had happened. So much had happened since then, the memories were becoming muddled in my mind. But once I did remember, I smiled.

“Chocolate frosted with sprinkles. For the child in us all.”

“That’s it.” His voice had gotten soft so quickly, his hand brushing over my cheek while he played with the strands of hair blowing back over my face. “That’s my favorite memory.”

If I didn’t make a joke of it soon, I was scared my heart would burst.

“Really? That’s your favorite memory? Of all things?” I asked with a playful grin, clasping both of my hands around his and holding it against my chest.

“Yes.” For a man of so many words, it meant so much more when he spoke so little. You could feel the truth in the way the sound hit your ears.

Even as I bit on the inside of my cheeks to withhold my excited giggle, he was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Spencer, that’s so lame.”

In that way he always did, he so charmingly replied, “How fitting for us.”

“Rude,” I muttered, finally finding the strength to sit up from my position on his lap. The world only spun for a second as I reoriented myself. He seemed equally grateful, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“What else do you want to make fun of me for?” Spencer said with a smile, watching as I reached into the small basket and pulled out a small clementine. I ran through the questions in my head, trying to decide which one to spend our limited time on.

“Okay,” I decided, “What did you think the first time you saw me?”

His face scrunched up with the leftover embarrassment from our very first meeting, during which the first thing he had ever done to me was lie. It had been a flattering one, though.

As I popped a section of the small citrus fruit into my mouth, I noticed the way he licked his own lips. The sight caused butterflies to flurry in my stomach, and I wondered which was more appealing to him; the mouthwatering scent of oranges or the idea of slipping something else between my lips.

“I thought... that you were beautiful and intriguing. And I was right.”

I got my answer to my preceding thought, because he had quickly wrapped his hand around the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss with crushing force. For someone who wasn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection, he certainly didn’t mind kissing me like this.

Despite how deep and hard it was, it ended far too quickly. I sucked on my bottom lip as he left, staring up at him with wonder and devoted attention.

“Why was I intriguing?”

He clearly hadn’t thought that far ahead, probably hoping that the kiss alone would distract me from asking any more questions about that night. Unable to get out of it now, though, he just shrugged with a nervous chuckle, “You... were looking at me?”

My laugh, on the other hand, was full bodied as I pushed him away from me with just enough force that he actually almost toppled over.

“That was it? Because I looked at you?”

It seemed so silly, but I could tell by the way he responded that he meant it. He had told me before, on that night actually, that he wasn’t used to women showing him attention. But surely, he must just be missing it. He was an amazing man.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about you.” He paused between his words, taking a deep breath before attempting to work through his thoughts, “Like... like things just revolve around you. You have this intense gravitational pull that just told me that I had to get closer to you or I wouldn’t be able to survive.”

Fighting back the blush quickly forming on my cheeks, I struggled to maintain my typical aloof nature. I couldn’t have him getting a swelled head just because he could string together a couple cute sentences.

“Are you calling me a star, Dr. Reid?”

“I guess I am, yeah.” He hit me back with that confidence he rarely displayed outside of our play. I loved to see it like this. It made me feel like I was actually with him, rather than any manicured person he’d created to suit the needs of the current situation.

“If you felt that strongly about it, then why lie and say you weren’t checking me out? I could’ve left, you know.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Yeah, but I thought about it.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. There had been a couple of times during that night that I almost cut my losses—admitted that we were just too different to ever be compatible. Thank god I’d ignored that flawed instinct.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. Have you looked at your boyfriend? I’m so weird.”

The ease with which he flouted his eccentricities brought a smile to my face, and I shook my head as I tried to fight back in his defense. “You’re not that weird.”

“Are you joking? Look at yourself. You’re—You’re normalcy personified! No, actually, you’re not even that. You’re this... beautiful, smart, talented young girl and I’m just an old man who’s hoping to keep you around long enough that you forget you have better options out there.”

The longer he spoke, the more my jaw dropped open. Eventually, I had devolved into a fit of laughter.

“Dr. Reid, you can’t seriously be telling me that you think I am out of your league!”

“I mean—!” he started, but I wasn’t going to allow him to even entertain the thought. I clapped my hand over his mouth, nearly climbing onto his lap to hush any noises he attempted to make.

“No way!” I shouted, “Shut up!”

Instead of trying to wrench my hand away, his hands came to rest on my hips. I could feel the smile spreading across his cheeks under my fingers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Spencer. Fucking FBI Agent with three PhDs. Get out of here.”

He began bouncing his leg under me, and when I looked down to see what he was doing, I was shocked to feel a wetness on my palm. Ripping my hand away, I looked at my hand to see the swipe of saliva over the skin.

“Did you just fucking lick me?!” I screeched, unable to comprehend what had just happened, staring at my boyfriend with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I touched the ground with this hand! What are you doing?!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely going to rinse my mouth with bleach when we get home. But it was worth it, to see that look on your face.”

He went to wipe his own face, but I still couldn’t get over the fact my hand was fucking wet. So I took my hand once more, wiping the residue of his own spit back over his cheek. Surprisingly, he just let me do it, laughing as he only slightly tilted his head back.

“Nasty old pervert,” I joked, rolling my body off him and sitting on own once more.

“You’re very mean when you’re nice to me.” Spencer pouted.

I was distracted, trying to get my hair to stay out of my face and mouth as the wind started to whip through the park. Still, I managed to say a few very important words of warning.

“Yeah, well, get used to it, bud.”

Taking pity on my obvious distress, he reached out to grab my arm, tugging me back over to him. “Come here, little girl.” he instructed while I crawled over on all fours to sit between his legs.

I was going to ask him what he was planning when I felt his hands begin threading through my hair. I sat patiently, recognizing the pattern he was weaving.

“... When did you learn how to braid hair? Did your mom teach you?”

“My mom has short hair.” It was an evasive, but truthful answer, so I didn’t press it. I was sure I would find out more about his family as time went on. I just had to keep reminding myself that we had all the time in the world to get to know each other.

“I never learned how to braid hair specifically. I’m just applying the same pattern I would with a knot or a puzzle.”

“How romantic.” I gasped, tucking my hands between my legs as I enjoyed the way it felt for him to play with my hair.

It was always bizarre, to consider the way he could be so soft in moments like this. Or rather, that he could be so far the opposite at other times. In my heart, he was always the kind, goofy man I had met that night at the bar.

But I’d seen him angry, depressed, and in pain. I’d seen him desperate and scared. Basically, the only way I hadn’t seen Spencer Reid was however he was at work. Part of me wished that I could; it was obvious he was good at it and, to a certain degree, enjoyed it.

Then again, when I know he does things like get shot at, it makes it a little bit harder to be interested in. I couldn’t imagine getting that phone call one day while they loaded him into the back of an ambulance... or worse.

“Ah, the things I do for love.” His calm, smooth voice tore me from the destructive thoughts and back into his warm embrace.

“Hey, Spencer, I have a serious question.”

“Well, that’s terrifying.” He joked, holding out his hand for my hair tie, which I happily gave him. I hated to admit that he did a better job at braiding my hair than I’d ever done. Freaking stupid genius stuff.

“When do I get to say it back?”

I swear, I felt a chill spread through the air between us. His entire body froze, his hands stuck mixed with the elastic as he tied off the braid.

It was an intense, unwelcome flashback to the second night I’d spent with him, when we had talked about things too serious, too soon.

Terrified, I immediately cut off anything he might have been able to say, muttering, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Letting my hair slip from his fingers, he let his hand drag along my spine. I wished I could see the look on his face, but I didn’t dare turn around.

“I’m sorry.” He said after another moment of silence, and it physically pained me the way the words fell from his lips.

“Don’t apologize,” I said in the cheeriest tone possible, trying to lighten the mood, “I just wanted to test the waters.”

With that, I spun around dramatically, noting the way his face lit up once it saw the smile on my own. “And they are frozen solid!”

He laughed at the enthusiasm I displayed, swiftly throwing his arms around me in a tight embrace.

“Well, I’ll just have to warm you up, then.” My whole body in his arms, he yanked me off the ground and onto himself. I struggled playfully under his arms, not paying any attention to the other people in the park watching our childish antics.

“Hypothermia is very dangerous, after all,” he lectured, “Let me take your temperature.” Burying his face in my neck, I felt the familiar overstimulation that accompanied frantic, light touches of my sides.

“Stop!” I burst with laughter, “You’re tickling me!”

The movements all halted, but only to be followed with a terrifyingly devious tone of Spencer’s voice. “You’re ticklish?”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Oh, I love this information.” And just like that, he began his onslaught. His fingers danced over every inch of my sides, his lips pressing quick, frenzied kisses against the underside of my chin. The harder I laughed, the more he continued.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I screeched like a banshee, trying to slip from his hands or turn around—anything to get the upper hand again.

After nearly wrestling him, I managed to get both hands on his shoulders and shove him back against the blanket. The force with which we hit the ground knocked the air from his lungs, and he groaned at my body weight on his chest.

“Okay, okay! You win!” He yelled, holding his hands in front of me while struggling not to touch the ground with his head. “I’m not risking more surface area of contact with the ground to fight you.”

“(Y/n) emerges victorious!” I grabbed hold of both of his hands, shaking his arms with all my leftover adrenaline while I cheered myself on.

“Dork,” he muttered under his breath before he grabbed my sides, laughing at the way I instinctually jerked. I threw myself off of him to avoid the potential tickles, landing clumsily next to him. And Spencer, being the genius, recognized it as the perfect opportunity to pin me against the ground.

Wasting no time, he pressed the same instruments which had begun the great tickle war against my own lips. My hands found their way to his cheeks, pulling him closer as his tongue easily found mine. Just like it always did with us, it felt like the world was disappearing around us.

All I could feel, smell, taste, think, was Spencer Reid. His love and admiration flowed from him with ease, and I was happy to take it in. After a few minutes, we had to break apart. We might like a little bit of exhibitionism, but I was pretty sure neither of us actually wanted to tear the other’s clothes off in a park.

Could you imagine if people knew he was an FBI Agent? I was sure they already thought our age gap strange. But I didn’t care what they thought. Because right now, we were happy.

“I’m the dork you love, though.” I whispered against his lips.

“Indubitably,” he mumbled back, starting to laugh at the way the word sounded in our teenage love-like delirium.

“Now who’s the dork.” I teased as I smoothed my hands over his shoulders.

“Hm. Still you. And a little bit me, too.”

Laughter was bursting from me again.

“You have grass in your hair, idiot.” Before he could do anything about it, my hands were all over it, ruffling his hair wildly out of place. He just squeezed his eyes shut, letting me ruin any semblance of maturity or control from his appearance.

“Wow. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” I chirped, accepting the small peck he gave me before he started to retreat from his spot above me.

“You ready to head home?”

“Yeah, just about,” he sighed like it was a terrible thing to do. He hadn’t even wanted to come on this picnic!

“I promised to check you for ticks, after all.”

Ah, the real thing we were both looking forward to. Although, I was sure he was going to take it way too seriously for a few minutes before we devolve into sex on the bathroom floor.

“Mmm. I’m thrilled.” I replied honestly, struggling to sit up now that my body had already slipped into Spencer Reid is on Top of You mode. It was one of those rare moments when I wondered if there really was a female version of blue balls, because I was almost certain I had it.

“I have to stop at the bank first, though. I’ll go throw this stuff in the car and we can just walk over.”

“Sure thing, old man.” I huffed as I stood up, holding the much lighter basket while he collected the blanket. Once he took it all from me, I glanced over at the nearby bench with a pout.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“You’re cute,” he smiled, kissing my cheek like it were a more serious goodbye, “I’ll be right back.”

While I waited for him, I cautiously watched the large, dark clouds rolling over the horizon. They threatened to swallow the sunshine that we’d basked in less than hour before. I tried not to think anything of it.

It wasn’t a metaphor; it wasn’t an omen. It was just the weather.

Spencer must have seen the anxiety, because when he came back, he gingerly placed his arms around me from behind, resting his head on my chin.

“I guess we have good timing. It looks like it’s about to storm.” I absently spoke, my eyes still fixed on the sky.

“Yeah, typical finicky Virginia weather, I guess.”

I wasn’t sure if I actually heard it in his voice or made it up, but I swore Spencer was also trying to stop himself from thinking something of the rain. I was probably just being paranoid. It was just a storm. They happened.

“Well, let’s get going so you can cash your check in person like an eighty year old man.” I joked, grabbing his hand and dragging him back towards the exit to the park.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration. There are other people my age who don’t trust cell phone banking transactions.”

“Are there, though?”

He just shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth it to get into it with me. Typical young kids, he must have thought, so irresponsible. But he didn’t say it, just held my hand on the short, quiet walk to the ornate building on the corner of two busy streets.

I swung our hands dramatically back and forth, earning an unamused, but still playful, glare from him.

“Your age is showing,” he pointed out before licking his lips and avoiding my eyes. I glared right back before responding, “Your stick-in-the-mud-ness is showing.”

“Not a word. Not a phrase. Not a thing.”

He stopped our hands dead in their tracks as he crossed the threshold, and for a second, I thought he was going to seriously be a spoilsport. But right when I least expected it, he swung our hands again and I nearly smacked into another person.

We both laughed, with me blurting out a frantic, “I’m sorry!”

“So immature,” he chastised, shaking his head with disapproval.

“I can’t believe you. You are such an asshole!”  

The familiar hum and beeping of the metal detectors threatened to dislodge memories from the back of my mind, and I shook my head to try to get rid of them again. Spencer glanced over with concern but didn’t mention it.

I was grateful. I didn’t want to talk about it. Once we had passed security, he settled into the line like he’d done it a million times before. But me, being a normal person who used my banking app to cash checks, felt strangely out of place.

Figuring it might be a minute, and that the ride home would be significantly longer, I decided to go get any residual dirt and grass out of my hair. After all, it would get in the way of our tick searching activities.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere.” I pointed an accusing finger at him as my arm slipped from around his. His hand followed me until he couldn’t hold on any longer, an innocent, lovesick smile on his face.

“You know I could never leave you behind.”

As cheesy as it was, it still made me smile. My heart ached with the saccharine sweetness of his affections. I’d gotten so used to them so fast; I couldn’t even imagine a world without them anymore.

“Don’t miss me too much, Dr. Reid.”

“You know I will, little girl.”

That storm cloud feeling was brewing in my chest again as I pressed a kiss to my fingers, blowing it across the ever-growing distance between us. Why did he feel so far away so suddenly?

I tried not to pay it any mind, humming You Are My Sunshine and imagining Spencer’s terrible singing voice instead. Looking at my reflection, I realized why my cheeks had been getting sore. Because there, staring back at me, was a smile on a neutral face.

I don’t even know when it happened, but it hit me in that bathroom of a bank at 12:47pm on a Saturday that I had fallen madly in love with Spencer Reid. And it suddenly made sense, why he didn’t want me to say it yet. Because I hadn’t realized it yet.

But now I had, and it filled every cell in my body. The blush on my cheeks was evidence of just how much I needed to let it out, to scream it from the rooftops, or at least in the lobby of this old bank.

There were so few things that could overwhelm the emotions I was feeling and rob me of this moment. My brain rioted against any sign of darkness or despair, clinging to the hope that I would be able to tell him soon.

So, when explosive booms rang through the bank, for a long second, I tried to convince myself they were thunder.

But they weren’t. The storm had indeed come, but it wasn’t responsible for the sounds that caused my heart to tear in two and shatter against the floor. The people outside the room were not screaming at the wrath of God, displayed with lightwork in the sky.

It was not thunder.

They were gunshots.

 —————————————————

| Part 14 |

[sirengf-moved]

oh boy 1) 2, 5, 7, 10, 15 || 2) 3, 7, 9 || 3) 6, 7, 20 || 4) 4, 9, 27 || part five is embarrassing so none of that shit 💓 || 6) 2, 4, 10 || i gave u so many because i lov u but i'm also fucked up 🍊🌿💐💓

mars i lov u , also don’t worry i’m vain and i love answering questions abt myself so this works perfectly 😌🍯☁️✨🍓🍃 HOLD ONTO UR BUTT THIS IS A LOT :

( part 1 ) 🍨

Have you ever cut your hair yourself?

a: as a kid i think i got something stuff in my hair , gum or ? i’m unsure it’s a foggy memory but i just cut my hair and my mom got soooooo mad bc we had a friend who was a hairdresser and we didn’t tell her or anything and we just cut it , tbh it was pretty liberating but at the same time i don’t remember if i did a good job or not 💀

Do you collect anything?

a: mmm, jars ...... me telling myself i’m gonna gather jars for spellwork and i never actually do it so i just have a shit ton of mason jars , emptied candle jars , small flasks with cork screw lids all sitting around my crystals and incense ect....... rip me.

Are you a fan of bread and butter?

a: yes! i eat fried bread w/ light butter for breakfast most mornings , probably unhealthy but like.......it’s very yummy..... 😔

Have you ever almost died?

a: ive almost drowned at least 3 times, this racist dude thst i almost beat the shit out of nearly ran me over on my way home with his redneck truck ( forgetting i knew where he lived ) , almost asphyxiated myself by swallowing melted chocolate at least 3 /4 times , almost got into a head on collision at a 4 way once, when i jumped from the side of my grandfathers sailboat onto the docks i wasn’t considering how big the leap was and landed fine but almost fell back and would’ve been crushed between the boat and dock , and i thought i was going to die when this homeless man glared me down intensely at the local burger king as i ate my chicken and lowkey cried bc i was also going through an emotional meltdown ( unrelated to said homeless man making vicious murder eyes at me , but that sure didn’t help lol ) i’ve also died a lot in my dreams / almost died in dreamscapes ..... long winded answer but hi mars i’m also fucked up 😌

Favorite animal?

a: GELADA MONKEYS! LOOK THEM UP PLS THEYRE AMAZING I LOVE THEM! BIG FLUFFY BOYS!

( part 2 ) 🥧

Do you believe the butterfly effect is real?

a: hm... i feel like every action mayhaps has some sort of consequence but personally i’ve been seeing that like, how can this be true when you have billionaires who use slave/sweatshops/prison labor but yet are rewarded with vast riches? how can you have all of these people of power constantly doing bad , horrible things and not getting their karma? will they get it ten fold? down the road? is their karma their internal struggles? do they not have any moral qualms? are they MAKING the karma for others? these are questions i constantly ask myself to be quite honest....

Do you believe in witches and/or magic?

a: yes , for the most part. there are some i believe because i can feel it , their energy and majesty in the way they hold themselves and how they view the world, some people just scare me with how they go through life with such certainty on everything, certainty terrifies me to be honest. i do definitely believe in magic! it’s in everything! from someone cooking you something that you regularly cook but it tastes better bc they made it? magic! it’s everywhere! and also practical magic ( spellwork / spirit work / deity & entity work / tarot & oracle ect ) it all interests me and i love talking about it , to people who also believe and practice and KNOW AND RESPECT CULTURE/ HERITAGE / CLOSED PRACTICES! c:

Do you believe in anything mythical/supernatural? (Bigfoot, Mermaids, Vampires, etc.)

a: sorta , i’ve had too many rhythmic taps / scratches on my window in the deep hours of the night to not believe. i’m not sure if i believe in vampires as in modern mainstream standpoint but i’m pretty open to just about anything existing..it’s just this world is so weird and i’d be naive to think that just bc i can’t perceive it with my own eyes, it just simply doesn’t exist... u know?

( part 3 ) 🍡

If a friend called you to help hide a body, would you help or turn them in?

a: i ain’t no snitch. also kinda depends on the friend, bc i wouldn’t turn anyone in regardless ( unless they killed someone innocent / were a budding serial killer omg ) but like do i answer calls? rarely , am i also the one everyone always goes to? yes. either way i’d prolly help you bury the body, answering the phone however? another story. ( who am i kidding i’d be so excited that a friend wants to talk or smth then get roped into this whole drama episode )

Have you ever had a crush on someone that, now as you look back, is completely embarrassing?

a: YES , STORY TIME! okay so i was like 17/18 and i liked this guy and at the time i thought i was being soooooo oblivious about it , but like a few months later a friend was like ‘ did u like so and so? ‘ and i was like ‘ was it that obvious? ‘ and they were all like ‘ painfully ‘ and to this day i still get randomly reminded by my brain how stupid , cringe worthy and weird i acted , like my brain is relentless in reminding me how fucking fat of an L that whole crush thing was........ 🙃

How would you react if you had a secret admirer?

a: depends, ive had ‘secret’ admirers who turned very obsessive in my past, so i’m naturally wary , but idk if someone thinks i’m cool i have no problem with that , but if you put me on this weird pedestal then i have a problem ... 🤲🏽 td;lr : id be as humble as possible bc then i’m reminded i’m perceived.

( part 4 ) 🍰

Favorite actress?

a: lupita n’yongo!!

Favorite type of food?

a: savory / rich/ salty food, i don’t really care for sweet foods ... or fried foods ? i don’t like large portions either tbh, i like to feel full not like dead lol. my favorite types are either seafood or seafood coupled with steak and other assorted meat and sides .

Favorite sport?

a: i liked playing volleyball, i like watching soccer and occasionally college football ( ik ik.... ) but i also love watching women’s professional gymnastics!!

( part 6 ) 🌯

Ever kissed someone who wasn’t single?

a: i don’t think so.... no! it sounds like smth i’d do on accident or smth tbh ... but not smth i’d do purposely!

Have you ever done anything illegal?

a: yes! lots of things! but i’m not gonna list them all here, nothing too serious but lol yes haha

Ever lied straight to someone’s face?

a: daily occurrence tbh, i’m really good at lying , i had to get good at it as a kid in order to avoid shit so 😌 now i can convince gross men that i’m in a relationship with a huge weightlifting bouncer and we have 3 kids and hes on isle 6 and will be back soon when i’m in walmart and some creep attempts to talk to me too much! and they’ll believe me.......

[spookysanta]

daddy’s girl. (e.d.)

Summary: he's been watching her and she knows it. He's yearning for her, and he’ll have her, but she has to finish high school first. 

Pairing: Ethan Dolan xReader

WARNINGS: age gap (38 vs 18), creep shit

SAY NOTHING IM WRITING A NEW SERIES JUST READ IT AND TELL ME IF IT SUCKS 

DISCLAIMER! PLEASE READ: in this, the girl (cairo) is of LEGAL age. he (ethan) refers to her as a child bc yanno.... he's almost 40 here. this isn't on any pedophile stuff, okay? just for clarification. AND as i was writing this i got jake gyllenhaal vibes from this, but then i figured ethan could be the “sexy dad” in the future (so to speak)—which is what i was kinda going for; like a man that’s older but is so irresistibly gorgeous, even young girls swoon over him.

UNEDITED

****

******

She'd caught his eye. 

And he doesn't know how it came to be this way; he thought he was done messing around like this ages ago. But here he was, a thirty-eight-year-old man, watching an eighteen-year-old girl cheer at his neice's high school's football game. 

She sees him though; as if he's staring into her soul. As she finishes her tumbling routine in the halftime show, her eyes dart in his direction and his never leave her. She shivers slightly--

Who is that man? she wondered, walking away from the field to distract herself. 

**

She stands at the cash register, swiping his items across the scanner. "Did you find everything okay?" she asked in a monotone voice, looking at the clock on the register's screen. 

"Yes, I did. Thank you." the man responded, fishing in his wallet for cash as he already knew how much two bottles of red wine cost. "Do you need to see ID?"

"Yes, I--" she paused, looking at the man for the first time during their interaction. This was the man from the football game! She couldn't have forgotten those pearly eyes that bore into hers, and definitely didn't forget the way he ironically made her feel when their eyes locked. "I-I do."

"You okay?" he asked with a chuckle as he handed her his driver's license. He knew exactly who she was, and after a bit of research, he knows that she's what he wants. And, likewise, he knew that she remembered him. That in itself was exciting because now he knew where she was from 9-2 every Saturday--which meant he'd be seeing her a lot more. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She glanced at the line forming behind him and shook her head at the idea of her confrontation. She took the card and read the birthdate carefully. "1980." she muttered, handing it back to him. "Your total's $18.20."

He handed her a $20, grabbing the bottles of wine by their necks and smirking. "Keep the change."

"Thank you." 

"You're welcome, Cairo. See you around."

**

She lay in her bed, wondering why this man clouded her thoughts. What was it about him that made him so intriguing? Yes, he was attractive, but he was more than twice her age--shouldn't that mean that he was repulsive to her? Should she shy away from this man and his beauty?

Ethan.

If there's anything she knew about men, it's that older men (well, boys, in her case) don't usually have the girl's best interest in mind. But no matter how many cons appear on this list, the only pro she seems to think of is the fact that he looked at her like he knew her already. His hazel eyes were almost magnetizing her brown ones to his gaze, and the energy was too strong to pull it away.

**

He's come to the realization that he's hooked on her.

He wants her, no--needs her. 

And he knows how crazy that sounds with all of the odds stacked against him (namely, her being a child by his comparison) but he'll admit they'd look absolutely perfect together. 

And there's nothing he won't do until they're in love.

**

day one.

She walked home from school every day. Three-fifteen on the dot, Monday through Friday. Sometimes, she takes the after-school bus after her cheer practices, and that drops her off on the same corner but at five-thirty. He sees her walk down Linden Avenue, then make a left on Conch Street, and then go into the tiny brick house at the end of the lively culdesac. Sometimes he sees her through her window at night, laying in her bed soundly. It takes everything in him each night to not climb up the big pine tree to the second floor, open the already unlocked window—she doesn't lock it anymore because the lock can get finicky at times and it can get quite hot in San Bernadino in May—and breathe in the same air as her.

Just once.

Just once, he wants to be there for her—hold her, kiss her, smell her, taste her.

Is that too much to ask?

Just one more month, he reminds himself as he perches himself on his porch chair, watching her walk into her home with her friend, Janelle.

He does not like Janelle.

Janelle has a tendency to be a bit manipulative when it comes to Cairo; she wants the best for her, of course. But she's always making Cairo go to parties that she doesn't want to go to, or do things that Cairo doesn't typically do.

Cairo's a good girl who doesn't need to be bombarded with social...ick.

"She's a good girl," he mumbled, palms set on his knees with white fingertips. "My good girl."

***

She continued her walk to the store like she usually does on Sunday mornings in the spring. Yes, she does work at the store, but why not stop by and visit her favorite co-workers while she picked up her favorite ice cream?

"Good morning, Edith!" she greeted to the elderly woman stood behind the customer service desk. She resembled Jane Goodall in a way; caring, generous, kind. "How are you today?"

"Hey, sweetie! I'm alright, hope you're doing well. Say 'hi' to Katherine for me!" she replied with a wave, going into the employee's lounge.

"Will do!" she wandered to the frozen food section, her coffee brown eyes set on the cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. With happy alarms blaring in her head, she grabbed a pint from the shelf, going immediately to the checkout line to pay for her dessert. "Hey Ricky." she said to the cashier.

"Hey, Cai." he responded, ringing up her ice cream and setting it on the counter. "$4.68. Got your employee ID on you?"

She fished through her wallet and came up emptyhanded. "Shoot. I must've left it at home." she sighed. "It's cool, I'll pay full price."

"Nah, I got you." he took a card out of his front pocket, swiped it, and put in his pin. "There ya go. $2.27."

"Thanks, Ky. I owe you one." She handed him a five dollar bill, keeping the cash fold of her wallet open so she could put her change in it.

"You know what you could do for me so we're even?" he opened the cash drawer, taking out her change and handing it to her.

"What?"

"Go to dinner with me." he wrote on her freshly printed receipt. "It doesn't have to be fancy, but if you're interested, you should hit me up sometime."

"Sure. I'd love to." she smiled, putting the receipt with her change and grabbing her ice cream off the counter. "We'll talk tonight?"

"Totally. See you around."

"See you!"

**

She entered the house again and put her ice cream in the fridge. "Ma!" she yelled into her mother's office as she passed it. "Ms. Edith at Ben's said 'hi'!"

"Aw, how sweet of her to think of me!" she said with a smile. "I'll have to send you by her house with a plate of cookies this week."

She groaned inwardly. Edith's a nice woman, but Cairo's mother, Katherine, does not conjure up her life-changing cookies on any given day. Which means that she would make a small batch—just enough for Edith and her husband, Clarke—and then, poof! No-one's going to see those cookies until Christmastime. Bounding up the staircase and into her bedroom, practically leaping onto her bed with a sigh.

Meanwhile, he was watching her still. He didn't even think to consider the idea of someone catching him stare at this girl, sat in the rocking chair on his front porch, watching her intently through a pair of zooming binoculars while she boredly scrolled through her phone. Quite frankly, he wouldn't care at all. If someone were to walk by and ask him what he was doing, he'd merely say: "Protecting my girl."

He doesn't give a damn if she took a glance out her window and saw a man—that man—staring back at her. Knowing her, which obviously he does, she'd probably scream for her mom and tell her mom to come and look because "there's a strange man" looking at her through her window. And then her mom would come and look but by then he'd be back in his home across the way from hers, in his bedroom, watching her panic through the telescope he'd set up.

That'd be a gift to himself, really. Because he knows deep within that she thinks about him. Even though maybe the thoughts are of worry or panic and not ones of admiration, all he cares about is the fact that he's invaded her thoughts just like she's invaded his.

[thedankfaerie]

i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.

i need someone to hear what i feel

or at least, a free space to say what i feel 

im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.

last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 

 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 

i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.

4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.

i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.

i cried.

i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 

a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 

but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 

a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 

after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.

and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 

with that being said, i gained the weight back.

not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.

cue covid.

i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 

but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.

im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.

i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’

because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.

i hate myself for getting back to this point. 

i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.

today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 

im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.

but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 

someone please help me. 

[fanfics4all]

Not One of You Anymore: Part 22

Request: Yes / No

Request are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

John Murphy x Griffin!Reader

Word count: 5756

Warnings: I don’t think anything? Maybe people getting hurt?

Y/N: Your Name

Summary:You weren’t meant to be born but you were so when you were ten your mom and the Chancellor sent you to the ground as a test for the 100 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Bellamy’s POV

Lincoln was helping me sneak into Mount Weather. We were going in the way the Reapers did, thought it was the easiest way. I needed to get in there so we could save everyone. Clarke and Lexa both wanted to know Y/N was okay so I really had to find her once I was in. Lincoln killed an animal while we were in the forest and cut it’s stomach open. He put the blood on his face so he looked like a Reaper.

“Okay.” I said kneeling down.

So we make it to the intake door without and of the real Reapers seeing us. What happens then?” I asked.

“I kill everyone, and you slip inside. Limestone.” He said and I pulled out a little pouch. He took it He stuck three fingers inside and dragged them down his face.

“Let’s go.” He said getting up.

“We have a lot of ground to cover before dark.” He said while I got up. We started walking again.

“Hey, I need to know what happened after the intake door.” I said.

“They remove your clothes. Blast you with boiling water, then douse you with something that burns even worse. And then we were sorted. The others were tagged ‘Harvest’. I was tagged ‘Cerberus’, turned into a Reaper.” He said

“Cerberus. Three-headed dog that guards the underworld.” I said and he looked at me confused.

“My mom read mythology to us all the time. Octavia loved it.” I said then there was a small pause.

“You’re good for her. You made her strong.” I said.

“She was already strong.” He said and I stopped walking making him turn around.

“Hey, I need to ask you something.” I said and he looked at me.

“You protected my sister before you even knew her. Why?” I asked.

“When I was a boy… I saw a ship fall from the sky. Like Raven’s, or Y/N’s. The man inside was hurt, his body broken, I couldn’t get him out.” He said.

“Suicide by Earth. I heard the stories in the guard. I just didn’t know they were true.” I said.

“I brought him food, water. I didn’t speak the enemy’s language yet. So I couldn’t understand him, but I wanted to. So on the third day, I told my father. He made me kill him. That’s why when Y/N came down I made a vow to myself that I would protect her, luckily she’s one of us now. She was lucky… The world’s been trying to turn me into a monster for as long as I can remember.” He said and I looked at the ground.

“Let’s keep moving.” He said and started to jog off.

“Wait.” I stopped him.

“The parking garage where we found you… it’s north, that way.” I said pointing.

“There’s a mine entrance closer to where the Reapers hand us over. We go into the underworld when we have to. Not before.” He said and ran off. I followed him.

“You really care about Y/N too.” I said and he nodded.

“She’s strong, she’s proven herself more than once.” He said.

“Then why do you call her little one?” I asked.

“She’s like a sister to me. Which is also why I’m helping you, I need to know she’s safe.” He said.

“Like you said, she’s strong. She’ll be okay.” I said and he nodded.

Y/N’s POV

I wasn’t allowed to see my friends anymore. Cage had me on lock down.. How the hell was I supposed to distract him when he was going in and out of the room!? I’m failing my friends, I’m failing Lexa, I’m failing everyone! Maybe they shouldn’t have saved me… Maybe I was meant to be Skai kru all along…

“Y/N? Sweetie? Are you alright?” Cage asked while we were laying in bed together, clothed thankfully.

“Yeah, I was just thinking, sorry…” I said and he turned me over.

“About?” He asked.

“My friends, My sister…” I said and he sighed.

“Sweetie, you can’t think about them. Your friends are alright, I just don’t want you to leave me for one of them.” He said and I nodded.

“I wouldn’t…” I lied.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t but I don’t want them getting any ideas.” He said and kissed my head.

“Now, just relax and get some rest, I’ll be back later.” He said getting up. He left the room and once again I was alone in this room that had become my cell.

John’s POV

The Grounders were coming here today, a meeting or something. I watched them walk in and two looked at me. I looked down at my cup, I wanted nothing to do with this. All I wanted to do was find Y/N.

“Alright, quiet down.” Kane said walking in. Him and a Grounder walked into the middle of the room.

“I know we don’t have a lot in common. But we do have a common enemy… and a common goal. And for us to reach it, to get our people out of Mount Weather… we need to work together. Ongeta. (Together) He said looking at the lady Grounder.

“Skai kru and tri kru. Our survival depends on our…” He went on when one of the Grounders came up to me.

“You got a problem?” I asked him.

“Yu soud en stare round der ustega ai flush clean.” (You stood there watching while my village was massacred.) He said to me, but I couldn’t understand him.

“I’m sorry, man. I don’t speak Grounder.” I said with a bit of a smirk and he knocked my cup out my hands. I got up and shoved him back. Everyone looked at us, but I didn’t care.

“Mr. Murphy. Apologize to that man.” Kane said.

“For what? He was the one who came at me.” I said annoyed.

“Two day’s work detail.” He said and I looked at him.

“Work detail? I just told you I didn’t-”

“Care to make it three?” He said cutting me off. I shut my mouth and looked back at the guy. I rolled my eyes and started walking off.

“You’re gonna burn just like your friend.” The grounder said making me stop. I turned around and punched him right in the face.

“Murphy! Murphy back off!” Kane shouted as a crowd started to form.

“Murphy stop!” He shouted coming up to us.

“Knock it off!” Octavia shouted coming up to us as well.

“You think Y/N would be happy about you fighting them?” I heard Octavia yell which made me pause and I got punched.

Clarke’s POV

“This argument is a waste of time. It is simple. If they can’t breathe our air, why not just open the door and be done with it? Let them burn.” Someone suggested.

“Burn them. Burn them.” The others nodded in agreement.

“No, because they have a containment system. Multiple airlocks just like we had on The Ark. Our inside man can shut that down.” I said.

“If he gets inside” He said.

“What id we shut it down from the outside?” Lexa suggested and I looked at her.

“You say the dam gives them power, let’s take that away.” She said.

“That dam withstood a nuclear war, Commander I highly doubt-”

“Agh! All she offers is no.” He growled cutting me off.

“Quint.” Lexa said and gave him a hard stare. He stood back up and looked back at her.

“Apologies, Commander. But the biggest army we’ve ever had waits for us to give it a mission. The longer that takes, the more of our people die inside that mountain.” Quint said.

“It’s the same for all of us.” I said.

“We’ve lost thousands. How many have you lost, girl?” He asked and I just looked down.

“She says she has a plan. I say waiting for one man to get inside… is not a very good one.” He said.

“I agree with Quint.” Another man said.

“W have an army, let’s use it.” He added.

“We will. After Bellamy lowers their defenses, turns off the acid fog. I don’t care how many men you have. If you can’t get to your enemy, you can’t win.” I said.

“You are the enemy.” Quint growled.

“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?” I asked him.

“Yes.” He said walking up to me.

“You burned my brother alive in a ring of fire.” He said and I looked down.

“He shouldn’t have attacked my ship.” I said in his face.

“You’re very brave under the Commander’s protection, aren’t you?” He asked back.

“Pleni.” (Enough.) Lexa said to him.

“Ai can't be in an hukop kom emo kru.” (I can't be in an alliance with these people.) He said then walked off. I sighed and looked at Lexa, I had no idea what he was saying.

“Quint’s right. Waiting for Bellamy is not a plan. It’s a prayer, and one that’s not likely to be answered.” She said.

“Excuse me. I need some air.” I said and walked out.

Bellamy’s POV

I looked at he map Clarke had given me then up at the mountain. This wasn’t gonna be easy… I sighed and turned back to Lincoln who was digging in the dirt.

“The mountain has many eyes between here and then tunnels. From now on, details must be exact.” He said.

“What if we run into real Reapers? Wouldn’t they wonder where you’ve been?” I asked.

“All they see is the Red. Once you’re taken, nothing else matters. Just how you’ll get more.” He said.

“How much do you remember from when you were on it?” I asked.

“Everything.” He answered and stood up.

“Turn around.” He told me and I did. He placed a thick tree branch on my neck and I moved my hands behind it.

Clarke’s POV

I went into the woods to clear my head. When I heard someone behind me. I looked over and saw Quint staring at me. I just turned back around and continued walking. He was following me.

“Now so brave now, are you, sky girl?” He called out. I paused behind a tree then walked out and saw he wasn’t there anymore. I looked around then an arrow shot into the tree next to me. I looked at where it came from and saw him aiming at me now. I turned and ran. Hi arrow missed me and I kept running, I knew he would chase me. I kept running until I was out of breath. I stopped but heard a noise. I pulled out my gun and aimed but saw it was only Byrne.

“Byrne. Thank God, Quint-” I cut myself off as she turned to me, he right arm was completely missing.

“Save yourself.” She said out of breath then fell to the ground.

John’s POV

I watched from inside the Ark as they wasted bullets on practice. How could they be so stupid? We needed those! What if something happens and we run out of ammo? It’ll be all their fault! Fucking idiots.

“Save your bullets for the Grounders.” I mumbled to myself.

“I take it you don’t approve?” Jaha asked and I turned around. I ignored him and just went back to mopping the floor.

“I asked you a question.” He said forcefully.

“Who cares what I think?” I said to him.

“I do.” He said and I looked up at him.

“Or I wouldn’t have asked.” He added moving closer.

“I think the Grounders can go to hell.” I said pissed.

“Isn’t Y/N one of them? I understand you care about her.” He said and I glared at him.

“Don’t you talk about her.” I said, he was the one that sent her down here.

“You do care about her.” He said.

“But you hate the Grounders.” He added.

“She’s not like them.” I answered.

“I got you off work detail.” He said changing the subject.

“Why?” I asked.

“You knew my son.” He said and I gulped.

“And I’d like you to take me to his grave.” He said and I looked away from him.

“Now that there’s a truce, it’s safe for me to go and say goodbye.” He said.

“Then you can get someone else to take you.” I said and started walking off.

“I’m told the graves are unmarked.” He said and I stopped walking, putting the mop back in the bucket.

“You can show me which is him.” He said and I looked back at him. Why the hell would I do this for him of all people?

“You can hold the mop, or you can hold the gun.” He said pulling out a pistol. I looked at him and grabbed it. I walked off and he followed me.

Clarke’s POV

I was running and running. Did Quint do that to her? Was it Mount Weather? Or could it have been something else entirely? As I was running I was tackled to the ground. The person turned me over and I saw it was Quint. I struggled against him and tried to get free. He grabbed my neck and held me down.

“For my brother!” He growled and pulled out a knife. He lifted it in the air but before he could bring it down someone tossed a knife into his wrist. He fell off me and I got up to see Lexa and another Grounder walking over. She pulled out the knife and Quint groaned.

“Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op.” (Attack her and you attack me.) She said something to him and he looked up at her.

“Thank you.” I said to her.

“Where’s your guard?” She asked me.

“He killed her.” I said looking at him.

“Em ste speech. ai gonplei ste only kom em.” (She lies. My fight is only with her.) He said getting up.

“yu gonplei ste odon.” (Your fight is over.) She said and he looked back at her shocked.

“The kill is yours, Clarke.” She said looking over at me. I gripped the gun at my side and started at him then Lexa then back at him. We heard a loud growl or something and everyone looked around.

“What is that?” I asked in a whisper.

“Pauna.” Lexa answered. She pulled out her sword and slashed it into Quint’s leg. He screamed and fell to the ground.

“Run!” Lexa screamed and I turned. The three of us ran and I could hear his screams behind us.

“We need to hide!” Lexa said.

“Here! I found something!” I called and the three of us ran into a large tube. We came out the other side and there were skulls and animal carcuses all over the place.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“It’s her feeding ground.” Lexa said. We heard it roawr again.

“Let’s go.” I said and we started climbing. We got to the top and it sounded like it was getting closer. We saw a tree get knocked down then what looked like an ape jumped in. It attacked Lexa’s man and then looked at us. I shot it once then it tossed a rock at us. I shot it a few more times then it fell down. We looked over and it got back up.

“Run!” She screamed and the two of us ran. We got to an edge and looked down to see a door. I jumped down and hurt my ankle a bit, but nothing too bad. Then Lexa jumped and she hit the ground hard. She screamed and I walked over to help her up. The ape jumped down and we rushed to the door. I got through but Lexa fell and and the ape grabbed her.

“Leave me!” She cried.

“No way!” I said and pulled out the gun I had. I held it up and shot four times. It let her go and I pulled her through. I kicked the bar that was holding it open and we ran. I noticed a door and kicked it open. I dragged her inside and laid her down.

“Give me your sword.” I said and pulled it from her back. I shut the door and placed her sword to keep it closed. We heard banging and I looked down at Lexa.

John’s POV

I was taking Jaha to see Well’s grave. The man that killed my father for trying to help me. The man that send Y/N down here when she was ten. The man that send us all down here to die. We were walking to the drop ship and I just wanted to get this over with.

“It’s extraordinary, isn’t it?” He asked and I looked back at him.

“Oh, just give it a few days.” I said.

“I may not know everything that happened before I got down here, but I do know something about what you’re feeling, son.” He said and I stopped walking.

“Don’t call me that.” I said turning to look at him.

“I’m nobody’s son.” I said.

“You made sure of that.” I added and started walking again.

“I remember your father.” He said.

“Yeah, right.” I said scoffing.

“Alex Murphy. Convicted of theft of rationed medicine. He stole it to take care of you.” He said and I glanced back at him.

“I remember them all.” He said.

“Yes you let Abby live for having a second child and send her down here, where you thought she died.” I said.  

“We’re here.” I said before he could say anything else.

“Home, sweet home.” I said annoyed.

“Graveyard’s this way.” I said walked over to it.

I was dark now and Jaha was at his son’s grave. I walked over and sighed.

“You about done?” I asked. I didn’t want to feel bad for him, he didn’t deserve it. But a part of me couldn’t help it, I would never let him know that thought.

“We gotta be heading back.” I added.

“How well did you know him?” He asked.

“Well enough to be hung for his murder.” I answered and he looked at me shocked, I just smirked.

“Clarke sugar coated it for you, didn’t she?” I asked and he stood up.

“What happened to my son?” He asked.

“A twelve year old girl stabbed him in the neck with a knife she took from me.” I answered.

“Why would she do that?” He asked.

“She couldn’t kill you.” I answered and he looked shocked.

“Yeah, see you got a lot of blood on your hands, Chancellor. Every single one of them, including your son would still be alive if you hadn’t sent us down here.” I said.

“If I didn’t send you, they would have died on The Ark with the rest of us.And we would’ve never known that Earth was survivable. And you wouldn’t have met Y/N.” He said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I said don’t talk about her.” I growled.

“Their sacrifice is why we are here. Good can come out of even the darkest acts, John.” He added and I just started at him. He looked around then started walking away.

“Camp ‘You’ is that way!” I called pointing behind the graveyard.

“We’ll rest at the dropship for a while.” He called back.

“Suit yourself.” I said and followed him.

Bellamy’s POV

We kept walking in the forest, me following Lincoln like I was his prisoner. He had a makeshift rope around my neck leading me. We made it to the entrance of the cave when we paused.

“Come on.” I said, I could tell he was hesitant about going back here, but we needed to save our friends.

“Let’s do this.” I added. We walked into the dark cave and went to find the door so we could get in.

Kane’s POV

We watched at Octavia stood in front of Indra. The Grounders were going on a hunt for food, we didn’t have enough. I stood with the guards and watched the girl the hid under the floor for most her life stand up to Indra.

“Time for one more?” She asked.

“Step aside, sky girl. We’re hungry.” Indra growled at her.

“Make me.” Octavia said.

“Fio! Give this girl what she wants.” Indra ordered. A man pulled out his sword and Octavia walked up to him. I looked on curiously.

“Sir?” A guard asked.

“It’s alright. Let her go.” I said.

“Let’s do this.” Octavia said. She swung first and he blocked her. She kept swinging and when he had an opening he kneed her in the stomach and grabbed her arm. He threw her to the ground and picked his sword back up. He turned around and started to walk away, but Octavia was getting back up.

“Hey, are you gonna give up that easily?” She asked out of breath.  The Grounder looked back at her shocked.

“She wants more. Oblige her.” Indra said. This time he swung first and she sung back but he dodged. She swung again but he punched her in the face then elbowed her in the face and knocked her to the ground once again. She nose was bleeding but still she got up.

“Indra. Stop this.” I ordered, I was worried for Octavia’s safety.

“Takem on lik ozon.” (Finish it) She said. The Grounder kicked her but she stayed up. Octavia got a few punches in but he punched her to the ground again. He turned around and said something to his people, but Octavia got up once again. She ran up to punch him but he grabbed her arm and twisted it. She let out a scream but spit her blood in his face. He wiped his face and punched her in the stomach, she was on the ground again. He kicked her again sending her to her back, but still she tried to get up. He went to hit her again but Indra stopped him.

“Pleni. Same time en time setral down.” (Enough. Even a fool knows when to surrender.) She said to him and they all walked off. I walked up to Octavia and helped her up.

“I got you.” I said and brought her to her feel.

“I got you.” I said again putting her arm around my neck.

“What are you trying to prove?” I asked her.

“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” She said weakly. I looked at her at I brought her into The Ark.

Clarke’s POV

It was dark now and the banging had stopped. I was currently tying a makeshift sling around Lexa to keep her arm from moving.

“You should’ve left me behind.” She said as I finished.

“Now two will die here instead of one.” She said.

“I’m still new to your culture, but when someone saves your life, my people say ‘Thank you’.” I said walking over to the bars and looking out.

“I’m serious, Clarke.” She said and I tried to break the bars.

“To lead well, you must make hard choices.” She said and I turned back to face her.

“Hard choices? You’re telling me that?” I asked walking up to her.

“I’ve seen your strength. It’s true. But now you waver. You couldn’t kill Quint. You couldn’t leave me to die. That was weakness.” She said.

“I thought love was weakness.” I said and turned away from her again.

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke. I honestly can’t believe you are Y/N’s family.” She said.

“You wanna know why I saved you?” I asked turning and walking back up to her.

“Because I need you. God forbid one of your generals becomes Commander. You may be heartless, Lexa, but at least you’re smart.” I said and she smirked at me.

“Don’t worry. My spirit will choose much more wisely than that.” She said.

“Your spirit?” I asked confused.

“When I die, my spirit will find the next Commander.” She explained.

“Reincarnation.That’s how you became Commander?” I asked.

“How are your leaders chosen?” She asked but before I could answer there was a loud bang from above. The banging on the door returned at I felt fear flow through my body.

“It found us.” I said.

“Don’t be afraid, Clarke. Death is not the end.” She said.

“We are not dying here.” I said.

“I need your spirit to stay where it is.” I added.

“Then get ready to fight. It’s coming in.” She said pulling out a knife and took a few steps forward.

“Maybe we let it in.” I said walking towards the door.

“Come here!” I called and she moved next to me.

“Now!” I shouted and pulled her sword off the door. It fell through the door and ended up a few feet away from us.

“Go!” I called and pushed her through the door. I ran out after her and shut the door locking it behind us.

“Let’s go.” Lexa said and I nodded.

John’s POV

The two of us sat in the dropship waiting for morning to come. Jaha had a small container and offered me some of that was inside. I raised my hand as a well to tell him I’m good.

“You sure? You must be hungry.” He said.

“No one give anything without expecting something in return.” I said and he sighed.

“That’s a cynical way to go through life, John.” He said.

“You pull me off work detail, you offer me food. Why you being so nice to me?” I asked suspicious.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” He said and I just looked at him.

“That’s why we sent The Hundred to the Earth in the first place. Why we sent Y/N all those years ago.” He said.

“What a load of crap.” I said.

“You didn’t give a damn about us, about Y/N. You still don’t. That’s why you’re not fighting for those kids in Mount Weather.” I said annoyed.

“No, I have to think of everyone.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“I know you don’t wanna hear this, but sometimes, you have to sacrifice the few to save the many. Like I said, good can come out of even the darkest acts.” He said.

“Then you can take it from me that no good has come from any of this. I was pardoned, slate wiped clean. I’m still treated like dirt.” I growled.

“You’ve made mistakes. So have I.” He said.

“Well, I’m nothing like you, Chancellor.” I said.

“No? We both should’ve died several times over. We both have suffered at the hands of the Grounders. We both have been betrayed and imprisoned by our own people.” He said.

“But only one of us sent a ten year old to the ground, thought she died, and didn’t bat an eye.” I said with narrowed eyes and he sighed.

“But, I guess that just means there’s not a place for either of us right now. Great. I thought you were supposed to be inspiring.” I said and he smiled.

“There is a place for all of us.” He said and I looked at him confused.

“When I first landed on Earth, I met a woman who spoke of a place beyond the dead zone. A place where everyone is accepted. A City of Light.” He said and I rolled my eyes with a scoff.

“That sounds like a fairy tale.” I said.

“Or a second chance.” He said.

“You don’t even know if it’s real.” I said being real.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I believe.” He said and I smirked.

“Okay. Well, that’s good for you, Chancellor.” I said then moved my bag.

“Very good.” I said and laid down on it.

“I’m gonna find it, John.” He said and paused.

“And once I do I’m gonna come back and lead my people home.” He said and I just looked at him.

Y/N’s POV

It was late and Cage was luckily working on something so I was alone. I only say luckily because that means he won’t want to try anything tonight. I was in my pajamas that he had gotten me and sat on the bed. I had my sketchbook in my lap and was looking at the drawing I made of John. I couldn’t keep my mind off him, I was so worried about him. Was he okay? Was he still with my people? Were they hurting him? What he even alive? I couldn’t help the tears that overflowed from my eyes. How can I care about someone that I hardly know? I just wanted to be with him again. He made me feel safe in a sea of strangers.

I then thought about Lexa. If I ever get out of here, how can I face her? Love is weakness. Our enemies will use my love for him against me. They’ll hurt him. Or worse, kill him. John could end up like poor Costia… I couldn’t let that happen to him, but I couldn’t stop my heart from loving him…

“Love can be powerful little one, it’s simply unavoidable when you meet the right person.” Lincoln’s words rang through my head. He was always telling me things that were opposite of what Lexa was telling me. The two of them were completely different people, yet, both people that I looked up to.I loved them both, but simply as family. It was a different type of love, one that couldn’t be used against you as easily. If one of them died I’d be crushed, but we were trained not to show weakness.

“Love is weakness.” Lexa’s voice rang through my head.

“Love is weakness.” I whispered and shut my sketchbook. I hid it under the bed so Cage wouldn’t find it and then went to sleep.

Bellamy’s POV

The two of us were walking through the caves. It was like a never ending maze. I had no idea how the Reapers ever remembered every path, it was a little crazy. Then again they aren’t sane anymore. As we were walking Lincoln paused.

“Why are we stopping?” I asked. He looked down and stepped on a little glass bottle that was on the ground. He was breathing heavy and seemed off.

“You okay?” I asked.

“As soon as they open the intake doors, we attack. Do not let it close.” He said and I nodded.

“Once they’re all dead, you go in. I’ll make it look like you escaped.” He said and I nodded again. He sighed.

“Once you’re inside-”

“I know.” I said cutting him off. We heard shouting in the distance and looked back to see a small glow of a fire.

“Another raider party.” He said and started untying me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We have to go back. It’s the only way.” He said panicking.

“Go back? No way!” I growled.

“There’s three, maybe four.” He said.

“We can fight our way through! We’ll never get a better chance.” I said pulling away from him.

“I thought I could do this, but I can’t. Okay? It’s over.” He said.

“No, it’s not.” I said.

“We can join them.” I said once he stopped.

“Listen to me. When they bring out the Red, you grab it, and you run like hell. The Reapers will go nuts, the Grounders will run and Mountain Men will have to deal with it. No one will be looking for a Grounder running into the mountain.” I said and he grabbed me and shoved me to the ground.

“I said no!” He growled. The tree on was tied to fell off and I charged at him.

“Fight back. They’ll think I’m trying to escape. Do it for Y/N. Your people.” I said and he did. I was on my knees in two seconds and the Reapers were walking up to us.

“Disha won tried kom wander off. Em's mine.” (This one tried to wander off. He's mine.) Lincoln said.

“Takem put em round tree bonuday.” (Put him on the log.) The Reaper said. I didn’t know what they were saying, I didn’t speak enough Grounder yet. Lincoln lifted me up and they tied me up.

John’s POV

I woke up to a bunch of voices outside. I walked out with Jaha and saw a small group of people gathered outside of the ship. He was greeting all of them. I was very confused.

“Hey, what the hell is this?” I asked.

“We’re going to the City of Light.” Jaha said.

“You’re going now? There’s a million ways to die out there.” I said.

“Well, if it’s not your time, nothing can kill you. But if it is your time, it only takes one.” He said and I shook my head walking up to them.

“Do you even have a map?” I asked.

“No.” He answered.

“Then how do you know where you’re going?” I asked.

“We don’t, but I will not be ruled by fear. You wanna stop being treated like a criminal, then you have to stop thinking that’s all you are. Take this leap of faith with me, John Murphy. And let me show you there is so much more for you, then this.” He said looking at the dropship. I looked at him for a minute before answering.

“I’m not going without Y/N.” I said.

“Then we’ll wait for you here.” He said and I nodded.

Bellamy’s POV

They stripped me of my clothes. I had a blindfold on so I couldn’t see anything, but I was cold. Someone was speaking loudly around me, one of the Reapers. I wasn’t sure which one. I was guessing it was was one that walked up to Lincoln and I. They took the blindfold off and I looked up at Lincoln then back down. The door opened and four people in hazmat suits walked out.

“Stay back, or you don’t get your dose.” He said and there was an annoying high pitched noise. The reapers stepped back and I looked at Lincoln. A woman walked down the line and she looked at me.

“Harvest.” She said. I watched at Lincoln got on his knees to get the drug. I shook my head to try and tell him not to, but he did it anyway.

“Harvest them all.” She said and they grabbed me. I couldn’t fight them without Lincoln. They took me inside and there was nothing I could do… At least I was inside… Right?

Tag list: @theschuylersistersss @iamaunicorn4704 @sarasmismyonlydefence @riverdalehoeeeeeee @imaginehuntress @tiannawashere @teenwolfbitches2 @mockinghijack @genius2050 @hollandechart @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @xrosesareredx @herokyolachan @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @alex--awesome--22 @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @tigermillionaire-philanthropist @marveloverdcsstuff @lady-of-lies 

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro Part 27/? - The Lost Relic Part 28/? - The Homunculinus Part 29/? - The End is Near Part 30/? - The Face of Evil Part 31/? - The Morning After Part 32/? - Next Stop

Okay, so when I said I was too tired to write tonight?  I lied.  The gang move on to their next destination and try to track down Desrosiers.

There was a lot more spite in Jim’s voice than Nat would have expected – and probably more than Jim himself expected, either, to judge by the long silence that followed.  Nat turned to look, and found Jim looking sullenly at the sidewalk at his feet while Sir Stephen, behind him, waited for him to raise his head so he could catch his eye.  Jim refused to do so.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Jim.

“You cannot see me,” Sir Stephen pointed out.  “You don’t know how I’m looking at you.”

“Yes, I do,” said Jim, “because it’s the same way you’ve looked at me every time you were leading up to saying Buckeye would have done this or Buckeye would have said that.”  He turned and glared at Sir Stephen.  “See?  There it is!  I knew it!”

“It is only that you surprise me sometimes,” said Sir Stephen.

“Because I’m not your old buddy,” Jim said, “and you’re disappointed every time.”

“Well, now you know what it was like for Allen and for Mrs. Francis,” Natasha spoke up.

The two men had been about to start arguing, but Nat’s statement successfully distracted them.  They both stopped, and Sharon had to urge them back into motion before she walked right into them.  Nat turned to face backwards as they continued up the Jovana Tomaševića.

“When Allen met me,” she reminded them, “he said I looked like his daughter but didn’t act like her.  Same with Mrs. Francis talking to Clint when he thought he was Robin Hood.  The other person looks like somebody you know but they aren’t, and if Allen and Laura could cope with that, so can you.”

Sir Stephen hadn’t thought of it that way – and now that he did, it seemed he felt rather sheepish.  “This is different,” he protested.

“It really isn’t,” said Nat.

“I don’t think it is,” Allen put in.

“Thanks, Dad,” said Nat.  He was probably obligated to agree with her, but she didn’t care as long as somebody supported her.

“I wouldn’t know,” Jim said, “since I don’t actually know anybody.”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation between him and Sir Stephen, which was a relief, but there was more discomfort to come.  They reached the French Embassy, which was in an aging, tile-walled house, across the street from the stone walls and a row of trees that provided privacy for the people living in the suburb beyond.  They told the man at the desk inside why they were there, and he invited them to sit in the little waiting room until a passport official could see them.

Allen sat next to Nat, and while they waited, he leaned over a little to ask softly, “you can’t have children?”

“No,” said Nat.  “None of us can.”

“There were more of you?” he asked.

Hadn’t she told him that?  Apparently not.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I was one of twenty-eight to begin with.  We got whittled down to ten by the time we were teenagers.”

“Oh.”  Allen nodded, frowning.  “Well… you can adopt.”

The words were kindly-meant, but Nat rankled.  “You do realize I’m not here to be the vessel by which you have grandchildren, right?”

“I didn’t mean that,” he said.

“Then what did you mean?” Nat asked.  “This is the twenty-first century.  Usually I only have to remind Sir Steve of that, but now apparently you, too.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Ginger Snap!” he repeated.

“Then you should have kept your mouth shut,” Natasha snapped.

She was far too good at reading people, and so she knew right away that hadn’t been fair to Allen.  He’d meant to comfort her, because he assumed her infertility upset her – and if she were being honest, it did upset her when she thought about it.  That was why she usually didn’t.  Motherhood was only one of the possible futures the Red Room had taken from Natasha, but it was one that particularly stung.  Perhaps that was because it meant that she, like Jim and like Sir James Buckeye, would leave no legacy.  She was the product of four billion years of organisms reproducing, and now this particular genetic line was at a dead end.

“Doctor Jones?” a voice called.  The passport official had arrived.

Nat plastered a smile on her face and stood up.  “Hi,” she said.  “I’ve got Madame Desrosiers’ passport here.”

She followed the official back to his office, where she spun a story about how she knew Desrosiers, how she’d learned her old friend from academia had left her passport behind, and why she was turning it in here instead of there.  While she did that, she also kept him distracted while she slipped a USB drive into his laptop, containing a program that would email recently edited files to Fury in London.  She retrieved her little drive before waving goodbye, and they trooped back outside.

Within five minutes, Sharon’s phone beeped.  She swiped it, and smiled.

“Well?” asked Nat.

“A woman calling herself Helene Desrosiers checked into a hotel in Messina on the island of Sicily, using a French passport as her ID,” said Sharon.

“That’s our next stop, then,” said Natasha.  “Text your wife, Clint – time to get a head start on that shopping list.”

Another tourist bus took them back to Tivat, where they got a flight to Messina.  Nat did think about flying first class just so they could bill it to the British government, but the flight was so short it didn’t seem worth it.  They flew coach.  Nat, sitting next to Allen, was quiet for most of it, but she did have something to say.  It just took her an hour or so to work herself up to saying it, because it wasn’t something she said very often.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I know you didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know,” Allen replied.  “I’m sorry I… I swear I didn’t just come in and announce it to everybody.”

Nat was relieved to know he was smart enough to realize what she was really upset about.  “Oh?” she asked.

“They asked where you were, and I said you and Jim were still in bed,” Allen explained apologetically.  “Sam said, what, together?  And I couldn’t just lie.”  He began twisting his empty airplane pretzel bag in his hands.  “I think Sam’s a little jealous… I think he likes you, himself.  But we got into this whole weird discussion about whether somebody like Jim could have children, and then you two suddenly arrived and we were worried you’d heard some of it.”

That put the awkwardness – and Sam’s comments – in a very different light, and Nat felt ashamed to have judged everybody so harshly.  They weren’t perfect angels, of course, they were human beings who said things they shouldn’t say, but they didn’t disregard Jim’s humanity.  The question was, when had she gotten so invested in it that she’d become defensive?

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” said Allen.  “Next time I’ll lie.”

“What, next time you find me in bed with guy I just met last week?” Nat asked with a raised eyebrow.

Allen turned red.  “Is that something that happens often?” he asked, horrified.  Apparently the possibility had never occurred to him.  He struggled for a moment, then added, “it’s up to you, of course, I mean, you need to do what makes you happy…”

It was only a lifetime of training to hide her emotions that kept Natasha from giggling at his expression.  “As a matter of fact, it doesn’t, but it’s nice to hear that you’d support my ambitions no matter what they might be.”

As brief as the flight to Sicily was, they almost didn’t make it.  Like Santorini, the island of Sicily had been created by a volcano, and that volcano was not a quiet one.  Mount Etna was one of the largest and most active volcanoes in Europe, and it had been smoking gently for several weeks.  Air traffic was being detoured to avoid potentially clogging the engines with volcanic ash, and they had to wait in a holding pattern for nearly two hours before they were finally cleared to land at Messina.

The volcano was nearly fifty kilometres from the city, but it was still possible to see the looming column of smoke, which meandered up for a long way before veering off to the east, blown away by high-altitude winds.  It was beautiful to look at it, but also felt ominous.  They were chasing a mad alchemist, and here they were, on top of one of the biggest furnaces imaginable.

“That looks bad,” Clint remarked, watching the smoke column nervously as they crossed the airport parking lot.  “Are we sure it’s safe to be here?”

“It’s not close,” said Sharon.  “If it really erupts, all they’ll get in Messina will be an earthquake.”

“Uh-huh,” Clint said.  “You know what?  That’s not reassuring.”  His phone beeped, and he dug it out of his pocket for a look.

“Now what?” asked Jim.

“Pistachios,” said Clint.  “Sounds like Sicily is famous for them.”

Messina was quite a modern town compared to many of the places they’d visited so far.  The old city had been utterly destroyed in World War II, so almost everything now in it was less than seventy years old.  Where Tivat and Kotor had been dark stone and narrow cobbled lanes, Messina was clean new buildings painted pastel colours, on either side of broad streets lined with orange trees.  Across the strait, beyond the pillar of Saint Mary, it was possible to see the tip of Calabria.

Fury’s text message had given the address of the hotel Desrosiers was staying at – the Europa Palace, located in a blocky yellow and green building set well back from the street behind a line of palm trees.  From the outside it looked more like a seedy apartment block than anything a person might compare to a palace, but the lobby turned out to be quite nice, with marble floors, burgundy leather armchairs, and glittering chandeliers.  Nat paused before approaching the desk and looked at Sharon.

“You or me?” she asked.

“Better be you,” said Sharon.  “We’re not here to arrest her.”

Nat therefore went up and rang the bell.  The woman who came out of the back office to answer was middle aged, with darkly-tanned skin and bleach-blonde hair.

“Buongiorno,” she said with a friendly smile.  “Come posso aiutarti oggi?”

“Buongiorno,” Nat replied.  “We’re here to meet a friend, Senora Helene Desrosiers.  She told us she would be staying here.”

“The East Asian lady?” asked the clerk.  “You’ve already missed her, I’m afraid.  She went on to Taormina this morning.  She had me call ahead and confirm her reservation there.”

“That’s a shame,” said Nat.  “Can you tell us where she’s staying there?”

“I’m afraid not.  It would be a breach of privacy,” the clerk said.

Nat wouldn’t press her, then – she had other ways of getting information.  “Of course,” she said.  “I shouldn’t have asked.  One more thing: is the hotel’s restaurant open to non-guests?  My friends and I have been on the plane for hours because of the eruption, and we’re all starving.”

“Certainly,” said the clerk.  “Please, go ahead.”

“Grazie,” said Natasha, and the others echoed – this being the only word in Italian most of them knew.

“Prego, prego,” the clerk assure her.

[lovingtrance]

I got dumped

On December 21st my partner of 5 years, who I lived with for 2 and a half, told me he’s no longer attracted to me and only views me as a best friend. He said there’s more in store for him than “just a safe relationship.”

While we were together I was keeping a running list of all the reasons I loved him. But for my own well-being I’ve decided to start keeping a running list of annoying and toxic things about him. I’m posting it here for your viewing pleasures:

1. I had to constantly remind a grown man he had to brush his teeth. Often times having to convince him to not skip it bc he would sometimes go days without brushing. And this was NOT due to depression. Truly. It was just laziness and a lack of urgency to practice basic hygiene.

2. He would pick his nose and wipe it on just about anything. Furniture, his clothes, his side of the bed, my side of the bed, his car seat no matter whose car, etc.

3. He’d constantly ask “are you gay” as if it was a joke.

4. In general he reveled in pushing my buttons and saying things that I found boarderline offensive.

5. Near the end especially, but in general it was like pulling teeth to get him to spend time with me doing something he didn’t have a personal investment in. If it wasn’t an activity he enjoyed he didn’t want to do it with me.

6. When I would try to spend time with him 9/10 he’d say “I’d rather play call of duty.” His call of duty playing was a daily occueance. On weeknights it was from the time he got home from work until bed. He’d stop just to spend about 30 minutes with me for the dinner I made. This was EVERY NIGHT. And on weekends it would be about 3/4 of the weekend every time.

7. A few days before NYE of 2019 (to celebrate the start of 2020) he went out with a few of his friends to drink. Apparently someone said they didn’t like my plan for NYE and another person agreed. He took offense to that and came home drunk and angry. He ranted about how much he hates them, hates our home town, and how mad he was. I tried to calm him down and he got mad I wasn’t on his side and threw a chair across the room while yelling so loud it woke his parents and sister. He then went to his bedroom and I tried to calm him and he got mad I was “taking their side” and tried to physically kick me off the bed. As if he was a toddler.

8. When I said “no you will not treat me that way. I’m not your punching bag” and called a friend to pick me up he tried every manipulation tactic in the book. First he called to apologize. Then when that didn’t work he tried to plead and promised he didn’t mean it and he wasn’t trying to hurt me. Then he turned and said it was typical that I left bc everyone leaves him and I don’t care. I’ve never cared. After that tactic didn’t work he said he was going to kill himself. All while his sister was texting me saying he was just eating chicken strips on the couch watching TV.

9. The next day he gave me the silent treatment and treated me like I was the one who hurt him and I was the problem. He was trying to give me the cold shoulder so I’d break down, beg for his forgiveness, and beg him to open up and forgive me and talk to me. This was a typical thing for him in the past. If I ever told him he hurt me or tried to put up a boundary for my own mental and physical well being he’d flip it and put up a wall so I’d have to beg him to open up and I’d end up being the one apologizing.

10. He cheated on me in 2016 with women he’d meet up with from Craigslist for casual hook ups. He then insisted we were never exclusive even though we absolutely were and had already said I love you to each other.

11. On my 22nd birthday we went out to bars together. He had a list of bars he wanted to stop at. We’re from MO and were in San Francisco. The 3rd or 4th bar had a bouncer who saw his MO ID and insisted it was fake. I was using my passport since my ID expired on my birthday. When I told the bouncer I’m also from MO and the ID is legit they gave it back but turned us away. That made him mad so we went home and then he got upset I didn’t want sex. I sort of agreed anyway but then withdrew consent. He got SO mad about that. He started screaming and shouting about how I was jerking him around and he was upset and confused. He threw his fan at the wall and broke a hole in the wall. He started pacing around the room and then I called a friend and said I was leaving for my safety. That made him even more upset and he started pacing around the hallway of his apartment building while NAKED. I convinced him to cover up but the manic episode continued and he paced in the street as well. The cops were called by a neighbor. I was mortified. But we stayed together bc I couldn’t find my ID to be able to leave that night. Then we slept it off in separate buildings and came back together the next day to talk it out. We both apologized and stayed together.

12. About a year before that he got upset I couldn’t have Skype sex with him every night even though I was a full time student working a full time job. He frame it as though he was willing to make compromises for me but I refused to do the same for him. Even though I’d already forgiven him for the Craigslist cheating caused by his “sex addiction”

13. He said he was breaking up with me bc he wanted more “intimacy” and knew that he was meant to have a relationship that had more spark basically. He made it seem like yet again I was the problem for not having enough sex with him. Despite the fact I tried to initiate sex with him many times over the last few months and we would reject me almost every time. Often times saying he would rather play call of duty.

14. When we first moved in together I did some laundry. A few days later he realized a few random things were missing. A pair of underwear or two, a shirt. He accused me of losing them by forgetting them in the apartment laundry room. I swore I didn’t but he didn’t believe me and yelled at me. I told him they’re just clothes and I’ll replace them and he still yelled. I suggested maybe he forgot them back at his parents’ house but he swore he didn’t. A few days later a package arrived from his parents containing all the “lost” clothes. I did not receive an apology until I requested one.

15. We were long distance for the first few years of our relationship. I would go to visit him every spring break and fall break (my school had fall break). Once when I went to visit we went over to his frat house for a party for st. Patrick’s day. I was having a good time getting two know two foreign students (one girl and one guy). When we walked back to his place we were sitting outside the building while he smoked a cigarette and he got mad at me and asked me why I acted the way I did at the party. I was confused bc I didn’t think I was acting differently than usual. He said by making friends with those people I was basically being obnoxious and annoying- like I was trying too hard. It broke my heart. It was like he expected me to just be a wall flower or hang on his hip the whole night. It was so unfair bc obviously I didn’t know anyone there it’s not my school. So did he just expect me not to have a good time?

16. The one other time he had me go to a party at the house I went to the bathroom on my own. I remembered where it was and told him “I’m going to the bathroom” and got up from my seat. When I came back he was being weird to me and basically implied he thought I walked away to go cheat on him?... even though I was gone less than 5 minutes and I knew no one there!

17. Once in late 2017 early 2018 one of my close friends came over to hang out and drink wine in my living room. She mentioned she’d done this app called Cake where you live stream whatever and people pay you. We decided to just sit around in our underwear and drink wine to make her some extra money. I told him about it and he freaked out. He contacted her on FB and went off on her telling her she disrespected our relationship and manipulated me. He told me I was drunk and let my friend manipulate me. I told him that’s not true at all and everything I did I did bc I wanted to and was comfortable doing so. I never crossed a line. I never even interacted with a person. We just set up a camera and barely acknowledged the comments. He was acting like I was his child or property and I didn’t have agency of my own. He also told me I cheated and I needed to admit I cheated so we could move on. As if it’s not my body and my choice who I allow to see me wearing the equivalent of a bikini. And he definitely had no right to contact my friend and scold her and shame her. He acted like I was his to control and I was a toy my friend took and misused without his permission. It was disgusting and so painful to deal with. I felt awful about myself for days.

18. He was and is such a hypocrite. He even admitted to me before the Cake incident that he once did cam stuff but quit bc he was bothered by how many men tuned in and barely any women. He was also hypocritical about spending money. He would criticize me for spending $50 on new clothes at target or wanting to spend $30 every few weeks to splurge on eating out. But then he’d spend $100s-$1000s of dollars at a time on his hobbies like gaming, bowling, his guitar, etc.

19. In April of 2020 I told him I wanted us to be more romantic. I wanted us both to be better about making an effort to show each other we had a romantic attraction to one another. He told me “you expect too much. You ask for too much.” This is the same man who 8 months later told me he was leaving me bc there was no more “spark.” I EXPLICITLY asked him to work with me to keep the spark going and he said “you ask for too much.”

20. Also in April of 2020 he got upset the recycling bin was starting to smell. Over time some of the containers had leaked the small bit of contents they had left and created a film on the bottom of the bin. He blamed me because he “always rinses containers before recycling them.” I tried to explain “yeah but that’s just because you leave them sitting on the counter to be rinsed and then never rinse them. I too am bad about not rinsing, so I just put your pile and my stuff straight in the bin.” I explained that technically yes, I recycle more items, but only because he leaves me to do it. He told me I HAD to clean the bin. I said “I’m not your servant. I’m not at your beck and call and I don’t HAVE to do anything.” That made him angry so he said “maybe I should just pour milk all over your clothes then?” Shocked I of course asked “why would you do that?” I also wondered “what clothes? The clothes I have on the drying rack next to the kitchen? Or the clothes in the closet? The ones I’m wearing?” He said “you pour milk in the recycling bin. It’s the same thing.” Like truly- what a manipulative, illogical ASSHOLE.

21. When breaking up with me he told me “I’m sure you’ve noticed I haven’t wanted to have sex with you the past few months.” I said “yes I thought it was stress from work.” Then he said “no I’m just no longer physically attracted to you.” I asked what we could do. Should we spice things up? Should we go to a sex therapist? He said there was no point. But fear not reader- it’s not that he’s gay (yes he felt the need to clarify that) it’s just that he’s not attracted me specifically. He said honestly he just wasn’t happy because there was no spark. And there was this (apparently) indescribable element that had never really had been in all 6 years. There had always been something missing that he had in other relationships. I said THERE WAS ONLY ONE OTHER RELATIONSHIP WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! He had one other serious girlfriend before me and they were together between the ages of 15-18. Yes he’d had other flings and sexual partners obviously, but nothing that even came close to the level of commitment or sheer length of relationship we had. But sure- go ahead and compare what we have to a high school relationship and a handful of college hookups.

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro Part 27/? - The Lost Relic Part 28/? - The Homunculinus Part 29/? - The End is Near Part 30/? - The Face of Evil Part 31/? - The Morning After Part 32/? - Next Stop Part 33/? - A Sighting in Messina Part 34/? - Taormina Part 35/? - Burning Part 36/? - Recovery Part 37/? - Pilgrimage to Vesuvius Part 38/? - The Scent of Hell Part 39/? - She’ll be Coming Down the Mountain

We’re chasing Desrosiers again.

Jim pulled his t-shirt up over his face and crept down to the lower edge of the crack.  With one foot, he broke some of the crystal flowers, then coughed and gagged when the stink of sulfur filled the air.  Once it cleared, he squatted down and peered into the darkness of the fissure for a moment. Then he straightened up and waved to the others.

“I think it’s okay!” he called.  “It’s warm, but not too hot.  Just be careful of the crystals.”

The others began to let themselves down.  Sharon and Natasha went first, and the rest of them formed a sort of human chain, holding hands up to the slope to where Sir Stephen, the strongest, acted as anchor point.  Nat let go of Sharon’s hand at the bottom, and let Jim help the rest of them down while Nat squatted at the edge of the cleft to see for herself.

Nothing but darkness was visible within, and no noxious vapors were rising out. The heat felt like an oven that had been turned off and was cooling, rather than one that was still on and blasting out heat.  Nat felt a bead of sweat roll down the middle of her back, but it was no worse than the heat of the full sun in Athens.

Clint came and got down on one knee next to Natasha.  “What do you think?” he asked.

“You still got that fishhook arrow?” she asked.

He pulled it out.

“Great,” said Nat.  “Hook it through the back of my t-shirt and let it unreel.  Then I can follow it back if I get lost.”

“And to think, you guys said I’d never use it!” said Clint.

With Clint’s fishline to be her thread out of the labyrinth, Nat turned on a flashlight and climbed into the fissure.  The blue-white LEDs illuminated weird, sharp shapes in the walls, formed by the folded lava.  In places it flinted off charcoal from long-buried trees.  In front of her was a steep slope heading down into the heart of the mountain, but the foamlike structure of the rocks was very rough, so that she didn’t have trouble keeping her footing.  Her main worry was cutting her hands and feet on the sharp rocks, or burning them on something that was still hot.

As she descended it got darker and darker, until the flashlight beam was the only illumination in total blackness.  This wasn’t safe, she thought.  There were too many unknowns.  Anything or anyone could be waiting in the dark.  The fishline could break on the rocks, leaving her lost and stranded.  Even girls from the Red Room had to weigh up the odds of success or failure in a situation like this.  A normal person would never have come down here in the first place.  It was time to go back.

Nat made it halfway, then slipped and fell and had to grab at the rocks. As she’d expected, this was painful, and the stoned dug into the flesh on her palms and knees.  Biting back the pain, she climbed the rest of the way on all fours and emerged, panting, back into the sunshine.  After the claustrophobic warmth inside the fissure, the cool outside air was a great relief.

“Are you o… your hand!” exclaimed Sharon.

Nat looked down.  Her knees were bloody from crawling on the rocks, as was her left hand.  The right one, however, the one that Newton had burned away and Jim had grown back – it was fine.

“Sharp rocks,” she said.  “The tunnel goes way inside the mountain.  It could come out anywhere.  We’d need proper caving equipment to really explore it.  I’m sure they’ve got something in there, though,” she added.  “Newton’s obsessed with the variations on his name.  He would think Naples is the only place for him to fulfill his destiny or whatever.  The New City.”  She paused as another piece clicked.  “Have any of you read the Greek New Testament?  Is what’s left after judgment day called God’s kingdom?  Or God’s city?  Because the New City…”

“Aw, man, this is making my head hurt,” Clint complained.

“A volcano has a channel that goes way inside the Earth,” Natasha went on, as things once again fell together.  “If you really wanted to blow a hole in the planet, to do something that would absolutely bring about the end of the world as we know it… deep down on a fault line would be the place to do it.  You’d end up with something akin to an asteroid impact, throwing dust and ash into the air to block out the sun.  A mass extinction.”

They wouldn’t have known that was possible in Newton’s time, when the best theory about the origin of life on Earth had been that God created it in seven days.  The Book of Revelation may have told Newton what the Anti-Christ was supposed to do, but modern science had told him how to do it.

“Desrosiers will stop him, though, won’t she?” asked Sharon.  “He must have told her that he only wants to make gold.  If he tries to do anything more, she’ll object, right?”

“She’s got the notebooks and everything,” Sam agreed.  “She’ll figure it out.”

She probably would. Desrosiers was the one who had told them that nobody wanted to die.  Even Newton didn’t really want to die.  He thought that by killing everybody else he could ensure his own immortality.  At the same time, when Nat looked around she could tell that not one of them was actually willing to just trust Desrosiers to take care of things. The only way to be sure was to take care of it themselves.

“We must find her again,” Sir Stephen said.

How would they do that? Finding her on Sicily had been very difficult and even then, they’d only succeeded because she’d wanted to be found. How would they find her when she was deliberately avoiding them?

“We know she likes swanky hotels,” said Sam.

“That’s true,” Nat agreed.  At Guedelon, she hadn’t been staying in the tents and bunkhouses with the workers. She’d had a nice RV.  She’d had a nice room in Athens, she’d been at one of the best hotels in Taormina.  She’d be somewhere with a pool and twenty-four hour room service.  “What’s the nicest place in Naples?”

They scrambled back down the mountainside, looking for a train station.  The Circumvesuviana Railway would be the quickest way back to Naples.  It was dark, and they were all sweaty and exhausted, by the time they reached the stop at Ercolano.  Luckily the station was offering water and wi-fi, and they were able to do a search for the most expensive places to stay in the city.  As they waited for the train, Nat called all of them, one by one.

“Bonjour,” she said, when the clerks picked up.  “I am looking to speak to Madame Helene Desrosiers.” They had no evidence she was still traveling under that name, but they didn’t know what other ones she might use. “I am told she is a guest with you, but I don’t know the room.  It’s very urgent.  Her daughter in France has been in an accident.”

The first two hotels she contacted apologized, but said they had no guest under that name.  On the third call, she hit pay dirt.

“I’m sorry, Madame,” the clerk replied.  “Signora Desrosiers has already checked out.  Her ship is departing tonight.”

“Her ship?” Nat asked. There had been a cruise ship in the harbor earlier… was Desrosiers leaving on that?  Had she already realized Newton was up to no good and abandoned him?  But if so, why was she simply leaving instead of trying to talk him out of the end of the world?  Maybe she’d taken the notebooks with her, or something else.  Something he wouldn’t notice was missing until he went to get the reactor started.  There was only one way to find out.

“Which ship?” she asked.

“I do not know, Madame. There are two in port right now.”

“I’ll see if I can catch up with her there.”  She disconnected and told the others, “she’s gotten on a ship.”

“Why?” asked Sam.

“We’ll ask her,” Nat promised.

They caught the train back to Naples, and reached the train station to find that the cruise ship they’d seen there earlier had already departed.  When they checked the timetables, they saw that it had been gone for several hours, and a bit of quick math told them it had put out to sea well before they’d seen the two figures on the volcano.  Desrosiers couldn’t be on that one.  Two others, however, had since arrived: the Pearl Princess and their old friend, the Scorpio II.

“I knew it was following us,” Clint declared.

Nat recalled something they’d read in one of Newton’s notebooks – something Newton himself had later referenced.  “Scorpio is supposed to be poison to the philosopher’s stone,” she said.  “Is it a coincidence, or did Newton deliberately put her on that ship?”

“Do we care?” asked Jim.

“Not really,” said Nat. “The only thing we care about is how we get on board.”

Sir Stephen frowned, watching the people coming and going on the docks.  It must have been nearly time for the Scorpio II to depart, because there was quite a lineup waiting to board.  Crew members were checking ID.  They weren’t going to be able to get on board that way.

Nat didn’t consider that a problem.  During her career as a spy, she’d stowed away on board airplanes, submarines, trains, and semi trucks.  She’d infiltrated banks, museums, shops, drug repositories, and police stations.  A cruise ship ought to be easy – every window and door on the entire ship was a possible way in.  They just had to pick one.

It couldn’t be anything on the side of the ship that faced into the port, of course, because they would be seen by hundreds of people.  There would be slightly fewer watching eyes if they went in at the stern, but still too many.  That meant they had to go around the starboard side, the one that faced out into the bay.

The first step to that was stealing a boat.  Naples was a holiday destination, so there were several private yachts moored in marinas all up and down the bay.  The group boarded one of these while the owners were eating a late dinner at a restaurant, and took it to the Scorpio II.  They approached from behind, figuring it was less likely anyone on board would see them from there.  The bottom few rows of cabin windows, likely to be splashed in rough seas, did not open. Higher up, there were staterooms with balconies.

“This is not a ship,” said Sir Stephen in awe, as they brought the little yacht alongside the towering vessel.  “This is a cathedral!  This is a dozen cathedrals!”

“It’s a palace,” said Nat.  “That’s the whole point.”  She studied the rows of balconies.  “We’ll take the lowest entrance we can, because that minimizes the risk of anyone seeing us climb past… that one there doesn’t have any chairs on it.”  She pointed to one on the corner on the starboard side.  “That probably means nobody’s staying there… they wouldn’t waste balcony chairs on an empty stateroom.”  She hoped.

“This is gonna require something bigger than a fishhook,” Clint said critically.

“You wouldn’t just happen to have anything, would you?” Nat asked.

His serious expression switched immediately to a bright smile as he pulled out another arrow. This one looked normal until he pressed a button, and four metal spines sprang out of the sides of the shaft.

“Grappling hook arrow do?” he asked.

“Grappling hook arrow sounds perfect,” Nat agreed.

[usashirtstoday]

Back Cat I Actually Dont Need To Control My Anger Everyone Around Me Needs To Control Their Habit Of Pissing Me Off

Excited to be coming back to arthur ashe kids’ day at the Back Cat I Actually Dont Need To Control My Anger Everyone Around Me Needs To Control Their Habit Of Pissing Me Off usopen on august 26th in new york playing for the roger federer foundation get your tickets to join the fun aakd. Bruce and the e street band recorded two of the tracks from chimes of freedom on this day 30 years ago this live ep is back on vinyl exclusively as part of the album collection vol 2 1987 1996 available next month. Tag a mom friend who s the only got 20 minutes to shop on my lunch baby shower gifter bundles baby place has got her back with our coordinating outfit sets multi packs shop girls bundles baby place Back Cat I Actually Dont Need To Control My Anger Everyone Around Me Needs To Control Their Habit Of Pissing Me Off

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So this is going to be a Back Cat I Actually Dont Need To Control My Anger Everyone Around Me Needs To Control Their Habit Of Pissing Me Off bit long but bear with me I had what I believe to be a pointless and incredibly frustrating experience with the assistant manager jamie at your auburn hills great lakes crossing location today I have been coming here for three years I frequent your orlando san marcos and new jersey locations as well at least once a year when we stop we usually spend 5 to 10 thousand dollars on your products the system is simple I go in park in a corner and bring bins to my corner sort them bag them move them to the front register and repeat today I brought a personal duffel bag as it holds about 8 to 12 of your bags worth of stuff I get told that i’m not allowed to use it because it’s policy not a big deal at all I say okay i’ll do that for the rest rather than rebag all of this i’ll just go up in line and pay for it and it can sit behind the counter seems pretty reasonable to me nope I got obstructed suggested that I might be stealing something and not allowed to pass stating if I don’t want to follow the system I can leave he then takes my entire duffel dumps it onto the floor and then rebags it into victoria secret bags then moves it to the front counter so it can be rang in I thought this was a little odd but hey he was doing all the work rebagging it so whatever i’m like dude i’m going to be spending about 8k today all I want to do is come in spend some money get out without any drama what’s the problem whoevers in charge should be thrilled with a sale like this we’re spending 8k keep in mind that I told him that I would do what he wanted and it wasnt’ a big deal and the response was to the effect of stop being lippy and just listen I told him what do you want from me I just agreed with you and said I would use your bags i’m not being lippy at all I know this because I said okay dude not a problem i’ll use your bags his response was maybe if you get to buy it i’m like what are you suggesting that an 8 000 order is something you guys don’t want he’s like yeah if you buy it i’m like dude we are spending 8k today why would I bag up a bunch of stuff and spend 2 3 hours picking our your fabulous product to not buy it anyway so I had 4 credit cards one card had 2 000 one had 3500 one had 2000 and one had 1000 because I am buying for multiple people I had 4 different cards all in my name I wanted one receipt for each card not a big deal to me right wrong again he cited some policy and said if the order is more than 750 items that they aren’t allowed to ring in under 750 items on any one receipt id like to point out that that amount is higher than your employees said they could take as a cash payment I asked him to please show me that I would understand better if I could just read it he was willing to do so he brought out the policy book and to my surprise what it actually said was words to the afffect of cash payments cannot be split up or over 750 items I forget the second half my immediate reply was so what’s the big deal im using credit not cash he snatched the policy book away from me at that point and said you know what you can just listen to me or I don’t have to let you buy anything it’s up to my discretion I then called your orlando outlet and your new jersey outlet and talked to the store managers and cited your policy I was given I asked them to confirm if that was accurate and both said if it was a policy it was news to them I then asked if they would let me buy my order using 4 cards and 4 receipts the woman at orlando said oh my gosh yes we do that every single day I asked if I went to her store if I would have any trouble with this in the future and was told no then she said you can always come down here if you’re in the area and i’ll be happy to take your order after that phone call I tried again here’s the video of that attempt I said listen I have 4 credit cards your register girl said you told her she can’t ring up an order under 750 items that’s 3500 if it’s 5 items not all of my cards have that much I have done multiple receipts every time I came here heck I can even supply them to show it he tells me that because I am order so many items that I can’t have less tan 750 items per receipt so I point around to everyone else and ask what about everyone else you aren’t forcing them to spend a minimum of 750 items what about the final charge i’ll have 750 items for two tickets but the leftover isn’t going to be 750 items you’re not going to let me buy them he shrugged his shoulders to say no at this point I haven’t yelled ive been a bit snarky and sarcastic because I know he’s just giving me a hard time two people ring in our order almost every time I am up there and we were there 3 times in the last 6 months spent a bunch each time so at 730 8pm or so we are done shopping assuming that two people could ring us up ended up being a fantasy he forced one employee only to ring us up later on he comes up when its now close to 9pm and says hey you mind if we ring you up on both registers I chuckle and say no I don’t but you do you don’t want to be breaking that 750 rule do you he glared at me and then sent the employee away and walked off after blinking a few times I laugh because after telling me over and over he couldn’t do it he just got caught trying to do what should have been done to begin with a short while later after 9 I find out that everyone is standing uip front except for the one girl and another associate because none of the rest of them are allowed to help her ring us up the only two people left in the store with about 700 more items to be rang in if that’s not enough since it was a holidy all of these employees are apparently being paid overtime to stand around and wait at a bit after 10 all but two girls leave and one girl is waiting to count cash while the other girl sits and keeps ringing stuff in we apologize profusely we expected two employees to ring us up like always and timed our visit to be out around 9 if this had happened instead of having one literally stand there and watch her for 1 hour and 47 minutes after close we would have all been out on time and no overtime or extra hours spent so finally at 10 47 pm our orders are done we thank the lovely girl lauren and jasmine who got stuck staying 2 hours past close because a manager made up some random policy and had to double down when I pointed out he really needed to follow that 750 rule when he was going to toss another girl on the register if this is policy fine it doesn’t seem to be no manager at your other outlets knew what he was talking about the orlando one insisted that the only restrictions are on cash payments and verified I was paying cash or credit it’s a pretty humiliating experience to get hassled trying to buy panties and bras by someone who’s on some type of power trip the only thing I said sideways to him was that I flat out didn’t believe his policy and that credit absolutely is not the same as cash I didnt call him any names scream at him or did anything to disrupt the store beyond what you see in the videos if this is not policy i’d like an apology from that manager in person or over the phone admitting he was mistaken I would hope that the next time I go there I am not hassled but if not I guess there’s always orlando or new jersey who seem to be quite friendly I also want to give recognition to jasmine and lauren lauren is the poor soul who got stuck ringing everything in alone because of the manager’s silly rule and not allowing anyone to help because it would be in violation of the 750 item rule jasmine was the cash counter who had to wait until we were out of the store to count cash even more interesting is that I had a former employee with me helping me buy and she said she never heard of this policy either but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t added since she left she was just as confused because the manager spent over 30 minutes trying to explain and defend this when that time certainly would have been more efficiently spent doing productive things instead of hassling someone who literally sits in a corner and speaks to no one while sorting through your products one bin at a time id love a call back about this or to find out what exactly is going on ive never been hassled like this before and it was a little frustrating and very trying to keep my cool joe rossetti alexandria gunn. 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[yikeszoinks]

All of the gays

im p sure this is for the ask thing ? but same

1. describe your idea of a perfect date - idk, a concert or we drive around to a park, something dumb

2. whats your “type” - that soft sad boy soundcloud aesthetic, like lil peep but not lil peep, but also mainly harry styles

3. do you want kids? - noPE 

4. if you do, will you adopt or use some other form of child birth? - id adopt proabably

5. describe the cutest date you’ve ever been on - lol u think i date

6. describe your experience having sex for the first time (were you nervous? or was it easy peasy?) - lol u think i have sex

7. are you a morning time gay or night time gay? - night gay

8. opinion on nap dates? - good dates

9. opinion on brown eyes? - really nice all brown eyes r good, like if they have gold in them or if their so dark they look black ? wow

10. dog gay or cat gay? - i have to say dog bc im allergic to cats but i love cats 

11. would you ever date someone who owned rodents or reptiles? - yes ?? what kind of question is this ? is there a gay who wouldn’t have a small pet

12. whats a turn off you look for before you start officially dating someone - talking to me like i have no clue whats going on (i mean i never do, but don’t talk down to me??)

13. what is a misconception you had about lgb people before you realized you were one? - idk, that theyre just stereotypes??

14. what is a piece of advice you would give to your younger self - men are awful

15. (if attracted to more than one gender) do you have different “types” for different genders? - idk man 

16. who is an ex you regret? - i only have one ex 

17. night club gay or cafe gay? - never been to a night club but i still think im gonna have to say cafe gay

18. who is one person you would “go straight” for - lol

19. video game gay, book gay, or movie gay? - movie gay

20. favourite gay ship (canon or not) - stucky (steve rogers and bucky barnes sorry)

21. favourite gay youtuber - i don’t watch that many gay youtubers but shane dawson

22. have you ever unknowingly asked out a straight person? - me?? ask out anyone?? 

23. have you ever been in love? - sure

24. have you ever been heartbroken? - constantly 

25. how do you determine if you want to be them or be with someone - if u cant jack off while thinking about them, then u wanna be them ?? idk its hard 

26. favourite lgb musician/band - babeo baggins or placebo

27. what is a piece of advice you have for young / baby gays - don’t feel like you have to come out to everyone

28. are you out? if so how did you come out - i only come out to people who ask or who i’m close to

29. what is the most uncomfortable / strange coming out experience you have - after telling them i’m trans and gay they said “so…. do you like guys”

30. what is a piece of advice for people who may not be in a safe place to express their sexuality - um it’s not good advice but i wouldnt come out if i knew it wasn’t safe? idk 

[teacherunicorn]

Opposites Attract (Chapter 73)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15  Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24  Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74

Tag List: @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom, @does-it-matter129, @dcgoddess

Part of Alyssa hoped that Gotham would have somehow miraculously changed by the time she returned. That all Strange’s creations roaming the streets were gone, that Jerome was fine and well, and that she didn’t have to put her life on the line on principal.

This, of course, did not happen. She did however return to find that at least one freak -- the scary lizard man with the glowing eyes -- had been locked up for good.

If this wasn’t a surprise, the person responsible certainly was.

“Boyscout!” she called, drawing his attention from where he was leaning against his old desk. “Hey!” she laughed, pulling him into a hug which he quickly returned. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“It’s good to see you, Alyssa.” he smiled at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What are you doin’ here? I thought you went to find Lee?”

“Yeah...” he looked down. “Didn’t quite work out. So, I’m back here, going after Strange’s monsters.”

“You caught the lizard man?” Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Boyscout’s become a bad boy! I like it!”

“Pays good.” he shrugged.

“So I take it you’re not coming back to the GCPD?” she asked hesitantly. “Positions yours any time you want it.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” he said. “I think I’ll stick to my own game. I don’t have to listen to Barnes anymore, I get to go home when I want, get drunk when I want, and at the end of the day, I sleep. Cuz saving Gotham’s not my job anymore.”

Alyssa stared at him, unsure of how to react. This was not the Jim Gordon she had last seen in the Arkham parking lot. Something had changed in him, and while the obvious answer was his failure to win back Lee Thompkins, she had a feeling it ran deeper than that.

“Jim Gordon, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been the exact definition of a cop. A good one, which I dunno if you’ve noticed Gotham kinda lacks. Now you wanna pull outta that, that’s up to you. But don’t go denyin’ what you are.” she smirked slightly. “And you really think Harvey and I don’t get drunk when we want?”

******

*One Month Later*

Jim continued to bring in the Arkham escapees, though to be fair Barnes and his men brought in their fair share as well. While it was by no means safe to roam the streets at night -- let’s be honest had it ever been? -- you were much less likely to run into something....not human.

This did nothing to obscure the dreaded press brigade however, which she and Barnes were now addressing.

“At 8:15 this evening, and individual robbed a pharmacy and attacked its owner. Now while we don’t have any IDs yet, we believe this individual, is another escapee from Indian Hill.”

The crowd of reporters all began talking over each other, the photographers that were there taking pictures. Alyssa resented the noise, but it was quickly diminished as one reporter pushed herself to the front.

“Captain Barnes, Captain Barnes! Valerie Vale, Gotham Gazette.”

“Oh, geez.” Alyssa muttered under her breath. Vivian Vale had had a very public meltdown shortly after the escapees had hit the streets. She whined and screamed about the state of the city, its government, and the safety of her daughter, but ultimately ended up leaving.

Alyssa had been hoping that would be the last she saw of the Vales, but Valerie; Vivian’s cousin, was quick to take her place.

“Why can’t we see the escapee?”

“Because crews are still picking up the pieces.”

“This isn’t the first time that a bounty hunter has apprehended an escapee. Is the GCPD incapable of handling this threat themselves?”

“Whoa, whoa, only a hand full of these escapees were brought in by bounty hunters. The vast majority were brought in by GCPD.”

“Excuse me.” Alyssa nudged Barnes aside, putting herself in the spotlight. “I take issue with the word threat.” she informed Valerie before turning to address the crowd. “These escapees are themselves, victims of Hugo Strange. Now, if any ordinary, hardworking citizen wants to help get these poor souls off the street so that they may receive proper treatment, well these citizens should be alluded, and awarded financially.”

“Madame Mayor, before they were taken to Indian Hill, these ‘poor souls’ were all criminally insane inmates at Arkham Asylum. Were they not?”

“Ms. Vale, it is neither my position nor yours to judge someone based upon their actions, with regards to a situation we have never been in.” Alyssa informed.

“And, with regards to you personally?” she raised an eyebrow. “You have history with several of the escapees including the recently revived infamous Fish Mooney.”

Alyssa’s jaw tightened. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Are you afraid that, given your past transgressions with her and several of the other escapees, one of them might come after you?”

“...My personal life has nothing to do with this.” she informed. “If Ms. Mooney, or any of the other escapees have this vendetta you suggest, that’s between me and them; not the people of Gotham.” she said firmly. “And I’ll thank you to stick to the topic at hand, Ms. Vale.”

******

On the more lighter side of things, the people that Alyssa cared for were thriving despite the circumstances. Though granted, she had a hand in it.

Barbra and Tabitha had taken over one of her bars and turned the place into quite the scene. Oswald, having taken back his seat on the throne, was only allowing the woman who killed his mother to live because Butch had a major crush on her.

It was actually kinda cute to watch him get flustered whenever Tabitha was near.

She and Selina had slid back into their niche quite smoothly. The only immediate issue at the time was Oswald, who was convinced that Fish was coming after the both of them for killing her in the first place.

This had fueled his very public stance against the escapees, calling them criminals and monsters. Alyssa scolded him for it constantly, but his paranoia only got worse as time went on.

Personally, Alyssa thought that if Fish or anyone else were going to come after her, they’d have done it already.

Although, if Fish really was the leader of the pack like rumor had it, and she wasn’t out for her and Oswald, Alyssa genuinely had no idea what the woman was up to.

And that was the sort of thought that sent a shiver down her spine.

******

Alyssa wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but Edward’s weekly letters had turned into personal visits every time she made her rounds at the asylum.

It was still the sort of thing that felt good while you were doing it and made you hate yourself afterwards. She didn’t want to be so dependent upon their innocent, simple conversations, but with the rest of her life becoming so complicated and hectic, it was nice to come up for air once in a while.

She set the box wrapped in shiny paper down on the table without a word. Edward glanced at her before looking down as he undid the wrapping to find a black box with opaque designs on every side.

“The trick is opening it.” Alyssa informed. “The man at the store said it’s one of the most difficult ever made. Looked at me like I’d grown a second head when I said I knew a man who could solve it in under a minute.”

Edward smirked slightly and quickly got to work. Without even thinking, Alyssa brought up her wrist to time him on her watch.

The bits and pieces slid and twisted this way and that until Edward was finally able to pull the top side of the box off like a lid, causing the rest to fall flat and expose the inner gears.

“Twenty seconds even.” Alyssa informed. “That shop clerk owes me fifty bucks.”

“Glad I could be of assistance.” Edward said simply, pushing up his glasses with one hand. “....Alyssa....”

“Mm?”

“Why do you keep coming to see me? Not that I don’t enjoy your visits, its just that I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Yes, well...” she sighed. “Rest assured my motives are purely selfish. Talking to you these past few months...I don’t know how I would have gotten by otherwise.” she admitted. “With everything else in the state that it is...me being surrounded by morons and lunatics....”

“I know the feeling.”

Alyssa smiled a little sadly. “Ozzie seems to think that Fish and the other escapees are coming for our heads.”

“I take it you don’t think the same?”

“Knowing Fish?” she scoffed. “Oswald and I are small potatoes. She was always more of a big picture kinda gal.”

“So what do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know.” she shook her head. “Don’t know much of anything these days.”

“Can I offer some advice?” she nodded, telling him to go ahead. “I know how much Fish Mooney scares you; even if you don’t like to admit it. She got to you at a vulnerable time, and though times have changed it isn’t exactly the sort of thing you forget.” he tore a piece from the wrapping paper his present had come in, folding it this way and that. “But that’s what’s amazing about you, Alyssa. You stand up and fight, even when you’re scared.”

“What if I don’t wanna fight?” Alyssa said in a voice that was hardly a whisper.

“Then you’ve got people to fight for you.” he pushed the paper crown he’d made towards her. “You’ve earned everything you have. You’re powerful, Alyssa.”

[avalindin]

Drawn

AU Lycan Tom

Chapter 16: Lost

______

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

______

Gertie closed the office door behind her as she enclosed them all away for the good of the pack she looked around the room to Benedict, Chris, Cecil and a trembling Elsa, whom was controlling herself beautifully as she did her part and tasted Tristan’s blood to ease her transformation.

It had been hours since the trusted ambulance had taken Anita to the hospital that would keep them away from regular civilians. Gertie told the police as much as they could without bring humans into the house and into their business.

“If anyone asks, it was a home invasion. Simple as that.”

“So,” said Benedict as he ran his fingers through his hair, “What do I tell the school?”

“She suffered a miscarriage and they need time.”

“Who was that guy?”

“All you need to know is that he got it through the front door and…”

Gertie shook her head and tried to compose herself. Cecil cleared his throat.

“It was Matilda, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. She used the fetus as a sacrifice. Whatever Tom did to injure her wasn’t enough.”

“Who was the guy?”

“Her toy, he was supposed to marry Anita.”

“So what happens now?”

Gertie sighed as she looked to her pack.

“Chris will take Elsa and keep her away from everyone. We’ll take the children. Ben, go back to the house and make sure everyone gets home. Cecil will help.”

“What about you?”

“I need to stay here with them. They will not understand and Anita will not be the same without the fetus. Our kind don’t miscarry. Ever. Her body will not accept this and she will need me here.”

Elsa still had the premonition of a joyous Tom and Anita at the back of her mind and now it was gone.

“Did she tell anyone yet?”

“No.”

-

She wasn’t sure why everything was hurting. She had to be healed by now. She just couldn’t understand. It had to all be a terrible nightmare.

She was still a little child, four years old as she walked from her hammock to her mother’s room. She remembered a man talking as she slept and how her mother cried when he left. The darkness shook her from her dreams as she heard the shadows tormenting her.

“Mama?”

The voices tried to follow her as she reached her mother’s bedroom door. The whisper became louder as she looked to the large shadow looming over her mother’s bed. He chuckled, stepping away and looking to the other body on the floor. She remembered his blonde hair covered in blood as she looked back to her mother. There was a line of blood around her throat as she fought to breathe. Anita’s little hands grabbed her tie dye sleep shirt out of fear and felt something trickling down her leg.

Her tears fell down her face as she looked down to the bloody patch on her stomach. It hurt so much as her whimpers got the attention of the figure. She looked up to the teenage boy through her tears as the pain got worse. He slicked back his eerie blonde hair and picked her up as his bloody hands pushed the hair back from her face.

“Now, now, sugar. No use in crying now. What’s done is done.”

He looked to the blood dripping from her stomach as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“Blood for blood, Anita…”

Anita’s eyes snapped open as she opened her mouth and screamed. She already knew what had happened and that everything she wanted was gone. But it was there, it was right there and it was gone. She could hear the pack’s footsteps outside her door. As the knob turned, something inside of her snapped. Ben was the first one in the room as Anita got to her feet from the hospital bed and blasted him back from the threshold. She was quick to pull the tubing from her arms as Gertie raised her glowing hand.

She was thrown to the ground behind her as Anita followed the lingering blood of Matilda. She knew it belonged to her because it was all she could smell. It wasn’t the same for Tom as he stepped in front of Anita. She swung her arm up as she turned into the hallway, ready to strike him when he ducked at the last minute and spun her into the wall.

“Anita, sweetie? I need you to st…”

He grunted in pain as Anita threw her head back and struck him in the face. He held his nose and stumbled back as Anita brought her foot up and kicked him into the nearest wall. Anita turned, ready to make a break for the nearest door until Elsa ran into the hall ahead of her. She panted, sensing the change in her as she clenched her fists.

“Anita, just stop. You need to get back in bed.”

“You need to get out of my way before I hurt you.”

The pack saw through her tears as her eyes were pitch black. No one had ever been seen like this.

“No. If you go, you’ll end up getting hurt and I know that’s exactly what she wants.”

Anita showed her teeth, growing as she raced down the hall towards Elsa. She waited for the perfect moment as Elsa shot out her arm and clotheslined Anita. Her body feel back to the floor as Elsa crashed on top of her. Her strong little arms wrapped tightly around Anita as she kicked and screamed for her life. Elsa got her feet with Anita in her arms as a doctor came forward. Anita was expecting a needle but gave in to the soothing glow of his hand as her body quickly numbed.

“Alright, someone help while she’s down.”

Elsa and Tom helped put Anita back into her bed as she cried and moaned. Gertie rushed behind them and enchanted the restraints that were put around Anita’s arms and legs so she could not get out.

“There,” said the doctor as he stepped back, “You weren’t kidding, she really is strong.”

“Go help, Tom.”

Tom had already pushed his nose back into place as he sat in the nearest chair and refused to be moved.

“Tom. Not now, you need to rest.”

“No. I’m not moving from his spot and you will not make me.”

“You don’t fully understand what’s happened.”

“That bitch took our child and resurrected herself. What else is there to understand?”

“She’s had no family for a while and now she’s had it taken from her like her mother was. Your presence isn’t needed for right now.”

“You pulled me into this. Asked me to get her out of Baton Rouge, marry her so that she could be protected from Tristan and I watched as he helped kill our child and fucked her in front of me. Don’t fucking insult me, Witch. I’m staying my wife and will do whatever it takes to get her through this, whether its grief or fury, now get the fuck out!”

Gertie was stunned at Tom as she turned and marched from the room and closed the door behind her.

Anita slept. She forced herself to sleep until she woke up and found Tom between her legs the first morning she got to the house but the dream was too beautiful as she deduced. Maybe she’d wake up and still be stuck in the attic manor as the coven of 20 strong elevated their power ahead of her.

She felt a soft hand at her head as she slowly woke awhile later.

“Mama?”

“No, child. Grandma, though I never have really given thought to you calling me grandma.”

Anita ignored her chuckle, not feeling Tom in the room for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t go back,” she whispered.

“I don’t plan on letting them take you from us.”

“I can’t go back to the house. I can’t face him.”

“You need Tom. He’s your husband.”

“I never wanted him. I was gonna kill her on Halloween. I had wolf’s bane and was so close to spiking the bowl, then he fucked it all up. I was gonna kill them all…”

“Damn.”

Gertie shook her head and held Anita’s hand, knowing what she was about to do would test Tom’s bond to granddaughter. Tom talked to the doctors, telling him he would have to keep a close eye on Anita in case she showed any suicidal episodes. It was refreshing and uncomfortable to get out of the room but more than anything he wanted to get back to Anita.

He finished his coffee and stopped in the door when he saw a nurse changing the sheets of Anita’s empty room.

“Where is she?”

“I was just called to take care of a discharge, sir. You’ll have to talk to the head nurse at the desk.”

Tom was already turned around as he raced to the desk with the crush paper cup in his hand.

“May I speak to who’s in charge please?!”

The ladies and men around jumped at the sound of his voice. A small woman no younger looking than Gertie stood and ushered Tom aside.

“This is a hospital, sir, and you’ll need to keep it that way if you wish to stay here.”

“Who discharged my wife? I wasn’t even gone for an hour.”

“May I see ID?”

Tom controlled his emotions long enough for the nurse to look to Anita’s chart.

“Her grandmother took her home, looks like half an hour ago.”

Tom unclenched his fists and took back his ID as he stomped back to the truck that he left in the parking garage. He could feel the steam rising from his skin as he tried not to run straight to Gertie’s. He threw his truck in reverse and put his foot to the gas pedal as his fingers flew through his phone. As suspected, Gertie wasn’t picking up her phone. Five tries later, Tom was nearly there when he finally left her a message.

“Gertie, where the hell is my wife?! Call me back or answer your front door. I’m here.”

Tom pulled onto the long driveway, meeting Gertie’s eyes as she stood on the edge of her porch steps. He climbed out, driving his heavy feet into the freshly covered lawn as he smelled Anita somewhere in the house.

“Tom, stop…”

“I told you to leave us alone, Gertie!”

Tom was forced to stop as a stinging bit of energy flowed through his body. He grunted as Gertie smoothed her head back. He opened his mouth and roared to the sky.

“Anita!”

Gertie lifted her hand sending Tom to his back. The pain stopped as he got to his feet and felt a lump in his throat.

“You know that wasn’t me, Thomas. If it was, you would be in a world of hurt.”

“Drop the barrier. Please.”

“That isn’t for me to decide.”

“What did you tell her? You can’t take her away from me!”

“Stop it!”

Tom ignored her, looking up to the second to last window on the left side of the house as he heard Anita’s sobbing and Cecil trying to comfort her. It broke his heart that Anita and in pain and it was worse that it was clear she didn’t want him around.

Tears filled Tom’s eyes as he tried to step towards the barrier again. He stopped, feeling the tingle of Anita’s magic. He cried as Gertie rushed to him and flung her arms around his neck.

“How did this happen?”

“This isn’t permanent. Look at me, Tom.”

Gertie held his face between his hands to make sure he was looking only at her.

“What do I do? Tell me what to do…”

“I’m taking you home and you are going to give Anita space. The scent of you could sent her into a more feral state than she was at the hospital. This will be temporary, I promise you.”

“What happened to him?”

“He’s in the basement.”

The color drained from Tom’s face as Gertie was quick to calm him.

“I’ve severed the right cords in his spine. Everything from the neck down is useless to him. Believe me when I say that he is in a world of Hell. He has no way to escape, not even projection. He can feel pain and when the time comes, you will have your turn with him.”

Tom broke away gently and wiped his face with his sleeve. His instincts wanted to storm the house and drag Anita home but he knew Gertie was right. He was still a stranger to her. Anita needed her grandmother to help her through her trauma but Tom needed her too much.

“Gert, I-I’ll take myself home. Can I just sit here for a while?”

Gertie smiled and was proud of the man Tom had become. She left him on the front lawn with his thoughts. She wandered to the kitchen to make tea for no reason. Someone would end up using the hot water for something. She turned to Snowflake patting on the front window. She looked as she saw Tom lay in the cab of his truck.

His sobs mixed with Anita’s attempt at steady breaths. Cecil came down the back staircase with his bowl of used water.

“I gave her an Ativan. She should be better when she wakes, unless you want to give her something.”

“She needs to rest. I need to bind the house in case she runs.”

“Where is she going to run to?”

“Damn, I can’t bind her. She’s still new. I can replace the blood with my own, she’ll have to understand.”

“Donovan will be coming soon.”

“Another week.”

He placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked to Snowflake trying to get outside to Tom.

“This will be for the better.”

“It has to be or they both crash and burn.”

-

One week later

It had stopped snowing that morning.

For some reason, the snow wasn’t as white. Anita went back to washing the dishes as she gave them a good scrubbing. Her sides curled as she willed the feeling away. Curled, but not hurt or cramping. They reminded her of what wasn’t there anymore. She trained herself to ignore the feeling and that of the tears that were no longer there.

There was no use in crying anymore, she told herself. It was gone. The baby was gone and so was her scent for revenge against Matilda. Her aunt’s scent was gone from her nose and things felt like they were going back to normal for her. Every time she would turn, she would expect to see Tom there to touch her but she kept forgetting it was not her home. Gertie was gracious enough to open her home to her so that she could have some air for the first time in her life.

The years of being sheltered by the coven, the years alone on the run and then her “marriage” to Tom. She drained the water in the sink and looked out to Snowflake in the mounds of snow. The dishes were dried and put away one by one as her thoughts tried to call out to her.

There was Tom, alone, missing her to death. Gertie and Cecil welcomed her but she had had enough of family and knew her welcome would be outstayed sooner or later. She dried her hands on her warm knitted sweater and listened to the wind for a sign.

“Come on. There’s something I want to show you before we go.”

She remembered she promised Gertie she would go into town to pick up dinner for that night. It would just be the two of them since Cecil would be gone for a day or two for an errand. Anita followed Gertie from the clean sink as she watched over the older woman’s shoulder. Gertie waved her hands, unbinding bits of wood from the wall of her pantry. Gertie smiled for Anita as she waved her forward.

“Elsa isn’t gonna jump out with an axe and scare us or some shit, right?”

“No but try not to act out when I show you this.”

“What is it?”

Gertie’s hand took her own and led her further down the dark stairs. She let go and flipped a switch as Anita’s eyes reacted to the harsh lights. Spells and enchantments were splattered across the walls as she followed the table of chained boxes and the sealed destroyed charms that were found in her furniture.

She stopped as she looked to the inclined table in the corner.

“Anita!”

Anita had backpedaled hard into the nearest wall as Tristan’s eyes burned into her. The breath shortened in her chest with each inhale. Gertie reached forward for Anita as she turned for the door upstairs and ran. The pantry whizzed by as did the kitchen, the back dens and the large patio.

Her feet flew underneath her as she ran at a normal pace through the forest. The whine of the trees dulled out the sound of her now racing thoughts. Anita forced herself to slow. If she ran any faster, she was sure that she would have run to the ends of the earth and it’s not that she didn’t mind but she knew better than to abandon her family. She wanted to tire herself so she wouldn’t hunt down Matilda. As much as she wanted to, it would only end in unwanted bloodshed no matter how much she wished for it. Now that Matilda was human after being powerless for so long, she would remain in hiding until she was strong enough.

Maybe it was a sign. Anita stopped against a large trunk that stretched out over her head and braced herself against the chilled bark. She listened to nature easing her breath as she closed her eyes. The cold howling winds blew snow from the tops of the branches, showering her face in soft, white powder. Her skin enjoyed the snow, as it decided, making her hair stand on end to feel the chill.

She broke, though she was trying to rid herself of the habit, putting her hand to her stomach, still feeling what was no longer there. She accepted the terrible things that happened on Christmas. She missed Tom badly but she missed being alone. Felix, she assumed, must have stayed in the house with Tom to give him some company. Time apart. It was all they needed.

Anita pulled her hair apart and turned for town to try and clear her head some more. She was hard on herself for running out in the middle of winter without wearing anything proper. She may have been turned but it was still cold as all hell. She only needed a few hours of quiet and then she would go back to Gertie.

She stood on the sidewalk near the high school watching the large student parking lot being cleared by tow trucks for the day after New Year’s. She’d forgotten completely that a week had gone by. People were coming back from the holidays and using the town to get to their natural destinations. Her own was three streets east. Her frigid nose led her to the town’s bookshop. That she’d become so familiar with over the past few months. She stopped at the door and kicked off most of the snow from her boots as she let herself inside. Anita could hear someone but she knew it wasn’t a customer.

“Hello?”

Anita stopped in her tracks as one of the employees poked their head to see her turning back to the door.

“I-I’m sorry for you are closed. I can leave…”

“You can stay if you want,” sniffled the young woman as she wiped her tear-stained eyes with the back of her sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

Anita was ready for anything amiss.

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Katie’s on vacation and Peggy’s funeral was yesterday…”

“The owner?”

“Yeah, her heart gave out the day after Christmas and I came in and thought she was sleeping at her desk…”

She broke down sobbing into her hands and Anita’s only instinct was to comfort her. She held her and didn’t let go.

-

Anita walked on her own in the evening, now freezing as she decided to make her way back to the forest. She stretched out the time as much as she could. The happiness around her of the late night filled her with some relief. She remembered looking back on the year to the fight and the energy she spent running as she looked up to the wind pushing the high branches. For once she didn’t have to rush, to flee from whatever may have been after her.

Her boots crunched the snow under her feet as she stopped and was drawn south to a familiar area. The backyard of the house looked different, bigger for some odd reason as she stood at the tree line. Snow covered everything but the walkway from the house to Anita’s green house. Her feet dragged underneath her to the freeze metal of her sanctuary as she let herself in. The blast of warm air was enough to send her inside as the metal door closed behind her. Her natural instinct for her busy as she tended to as many as she could.

Anita sneezed, realizing that she’d shed her sweater and had pulled her long hair pulled up into a flowing ponytail. She touched her hair and no long felt a like for it. She reached up behind her neck and waved her glowing hand, chopping off her hair at the base of her neck. She could hear the strands fall to the ground and Tom groaning in pain as Anita turned for the house. She peered out the window and looked to the back of the house. She was only gone a few days and she wanted more than anything to come back.

She left her tended plants behind her and made her way up to the house. She unlocked the back door, stepping into the back hall near the laundry room as the familiar smells of the house calmed her. She cursed to herself hearing the tiny scratch marks as Felix hauled himself across the kitchen floor and into Anita’s arms. She closed her hand around the bell and kissed her friend as much as he needed. She could hear in the way that she meowed that she was sorely missed.

“I know, fur ball. I don’t know if I’m back or not.”

He jumped from her arms in disappointment and fled to his tower near the den. Her nose lead her forward from the sad food smells to the needing smell up the stairs. She didn’t need to worry about the stairs as she made her way through the halls and stopped at the door, the door that had made her terrified and heartbroken. Her hand pushed the broken wood of the door as she looked in to the destroyed nursery.

Anita felt she would have done the same thing, using her strength and her power to rip the room to shreds now that she wasn’t pregnant anymore. She turned for the next closest room as Anita heard Tom moaning in his sleep. Her mouth watered for him, needing to be with him as he slept.

“Anita…”

Her nails dug into the doorframe as she pushed herself forward and knelt to the side of Tom’s bed. Her knees hit the carpeted floor along with her tears as she looked down to her husband. She pushed back his matted hair. She was no longer in control of herself as she leaned forward and kissed Tom’s lips. She could taste him, wanting more as she cupped the side of his face. He moved underneath her, not scaring her as his hand drifted to her waist. Her legs pushed her off the ground and onto the side of the bed as he kissed her back. Anita’s hips grinded into Tom, making him groan as she looked into his opening eyes. She saw the hazy, bloodshot blue and forced herself away as Tom tried to roll after her.

“Anita…”

She hurried down the hallway as she heard Tom hit the floor.

“Anita?”

His nose filled with the scent of her, following it as her footsteps thundered down the stairs.

“Anita!”

Her feet dug into the snow as she ran north as west as fast as her feet could carry her. Tom saw the last bit of her as she disappeared into the forest. He wanted to run for her but it would have only made her run further away. He looked down to the footprints in the snow leading to the greenhouse. He pushed the metal open, seeing her corrected work for her plants. His bare foot stepped in her cut black hair. He collected enough in his hand and brought the mass to his nose.

He listened to the howling wind behind him and sobbing as he laid on the warm floor and held Anita’s hair close to his chest.

-

Four weeks later…

“Have a good day. May I he…”

Anita stopped and tried to keep her calm as Gertie stood with a pile of books for Anita to ring up.

“Child.”

“Hag.”

“Do you have what you need?”

“Please don’t, not here.”

Gertie smiled as she held Anita’s hand. She knew.

“I am not here for that. Donovan’s in town.”

“Okay. Keep him away from the damn bookstore. I will tear his head off.”

“No. You are coming home, at least with me.”

“Why?”

“Ren would like to meet you.”

“Who?”

“Donovan’s fiancé.”

“Okay, so what? She’s some Twilight ridden freak that said yes?”

“Anita, I will make a scene if I have to. You either come with me or I’ll get Tom to drag you.”

Anita clenched her hands and rolled her eyes. She’d been staying well on the other side of town and in the other direction of the packs’ homes. She was used to the cramped hotel rooms.

“Fine but I’m in the middle of a shift.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll come find you if those bedbugs haven’t.”

She held her spine strong as her fingers ran over the spines of the many, many books that were restocked and reshelved. She liked how the children left the books just so she could enjoy putting them back, enjoying seeing her, the woman in love with the store. Anita roamed in her thoughts, dusting the top shelves when something rolled from the tops of one of the bookcases. Her hand shot out and caught a bit of wood. She turned her wrist, seeing it to be the bit of the staircase she broke off when she found a book that she wanted.

It was the first time that she and Tom went somewhere public.

Her breath trembled as she put the wood back on top of the bookcase. Some things would be left in the past but Tom was not. Anita held back her emotions and finished with her work as she met Gertie by the front door.

“Let’s go.”

“Nope, we’re using the truck and I’ll put my foot in your ass if you try and run.”

“Whatever. It seems like running is hereditary.”

Anita was nervous. The last time she saw Donovan was the first few days she had arrived and he planned on making her a meal. A smile formed on her face when she remembered how fast his veins blackened when she paralyzed him with a single finger. He was convinced that Anita was to be his and it only confused her that he was filling to marry someone else. She pulled her thick sweater down and rested her head on the side of the car.

Her eyes closed and could see the house again. Not Gertie’s but her home, hers and Tom’s. Her hair had grown back as it rained down her back. It was thundering outside and she swore she could smell fresh rain. Anita watched herself, shocked as she turned with a fussing baby in her arms. She was frozen in place as she tried to follow herself. Her eyes turned down to a mist that had her held in place.

“No,” said the voice.

“W-Who’s there?”

The mist slowly began to form into something with a strong arm. Near the top of the mist, she could see a pair of eyes, blue eyes that were very familiar.

“Not this path, my child. Go back before you are consumed…”

She woke as Gertie hands formed around the ends of the staring wheel. Anita opened her eyes in time as she looked up and met Tom’s eyes. She turned back to Gertie, meeting the deception as she turned the car off.

“Let’s go, child. Don’t run.”

“Is Donovan even here?”

“Yes, they’re inside. Please don’t run.”

Anita jumped as her car door was calmly opened for her. She turned, starting at his hand stretched out to her, then up as she saw the small hopeful look that she would take it. If her body wasn’t going to run, it sure as hell was stuck in the front seat.

“Hello, Anita.”

“Hello, Tom…”

She took a chance by taking his hand and moved from the car.

[biofunmy]

The 2010s Have Broken Our Sense Of Time

This is one of those places you go for Instagram. The Manhattan Bridge looms, immediate and substantial, over a cobblestone street, framed on either side by a pair of old brick buildings; if you’re standing in the right spot, you can see the Empire State Building through one of the bridge’s uprights. Imagine a woman, young and ambivalent, staring into the middle distance, white sneakers aglow in the dawn, bridge overhead. This area of Brooklyn, once home to abandoned factories and warehouses, now hosts an annual festival for $3,000 German cameras.

A couple weeks ago in New Mexico, a few thousand people in suburban Albuquerque were waiting for the president, the one show we’re always watching.

The time between when you enter a Trump rally and when he finally concludes can be long. You might come in from a bright desert evening, as the crowd did that night, and exit into a pitch-black thunderstorm. In between, you wait for Trump, indoors, without windows, listening to the same 20 songs selected by Trump, from Tina Turner to Andrew Lloyd Webber — that are, like anything else selected by Trump, booming into your brain.

Eventually, to kill time, people at the Santa Ana Star Center did the wave. Seven thousand people rose and fell in red hats and T-shirts — to Luciano Pavarotti’s performance of “Nessun dorma” from a Puccini opera. People raised “Latinos for Trump” signs. A group of teens let out long Woooooooos. Pavarotti wailed in Italian. The wave continued right into the playlist’s next track, “Hey Jude.”

“Is there any place more fun and exciting,” the president asked later that night, “than a Trump rally?”

Trump inspires weird scenes like this from the lovers and haters alike. Pull up YouTube now and you can watch him perform a poem in different cities and in different years, sometimes in reading glasses and sometimes without, sometimes dedicated with cruelty and spite to Syrian refugees and sometimes to the US–Mexico border. Despite the provenance of “The Snake” (an R&B song from 1968), the lyrics have that Classic Tragedy vibe that matches Trump’s acid edge id. “‘Oh, shut up, silly woman,’ said the reptile with a grin,” goes the poem. “You knew damn well I was a snake before you let me in.”

He’s the man for a moment of algorithmic timelines.

But the algorithm didn’t used to rule all. Most of the basic experiences on our phones didn’t even exist 10 years ago. In 2010, Instagram launched and the messaging app WhatsApp came to both Android and iOS; in 2011, Snapchat opened for business and Spotify came to the US; in 2013, the workplace chat system Slack launched. When Pew first began collecting data on the subject in 2011, 35% of US adults owned smartphones; in 2019, 81% do. Here at the decade’s end, there are 1 billion global Instagram users.

The early part of the decade was about building the systems. And though Twitter preceded this decade, the platform came to political and cultural prominence in the 2010s. Initially, information flowed in chronological order, unfiltered, strictly concise, and mostly from strangers, which distinguished the platform from the more insular and curated Facebook. During the 2012 election, Barack Obama’s presidential campaign formalized a kind of faux-intimate voice — personal messages, initialed by the candidate — that retained a corporate distance. But that kind of fakery couldn’t hold; as the decade progressed and platforms like Twitter shifted from novel experiences into assumed foundations for business, media, and culture, the nature of what we put into the platforms also changed.

This isn’t contained to Twitter: The internet has finally and firmly moved from being an obscure gathering for nerds to the foundation for most communication. Linguist Gretchen McCulloch traces that history in Because Internet, her recent book that is particularly interested in the different waves of users — people who started using email at work in the ’90s, for instance, or millennials who grew up chatting on instant messaging apps — and how those platforms or users have affected language. These generational differences can manifest in small but familiar ways; McCulloch explores why people who are long accustomed to chat and text use line breaks for timing and emphasis, and intuit information left unsaid in an ellipsis. (Hey are you around…) She contends that a younger generation of users over the last decade, who’ve never known an internet without Facebook or YouTube, have turned to a phone experience that emphasizes control over context: disappearing messages, live video, using second and third accounts for specialization and privacy.

As the 2010s went on, the platforms adopted the live and the disappearing and attempted to reach you with what you care about most — to make the experience less disorienting by focusing on what garners the most attention. During the 2016 election, Instagram added the ephemeral stories and shifted to an algorithmic timeline. “If your favorite musician shares a video from last night’s concert, it will be waiting for you when you wake up, no matter how many accounts you follow or what time zone you live in,” reads the corporate unveiling, a cheerful promise of permanent detachment from the clock in favor of what you (are thought to) care about.

Twitter had built its business on the ordered timeline, but it too introduced algorithmic weighting that same spring. “Someday soon, the tweets you see will be a little more interesting, and the tweets you miss won’t be as important,” a former Twitter employee wrote at the time. “And guess what: You won’t even notice. You won’t! You think you will, but you won’t.”

The new Twitter feed transformed how a user perceived something going viral; while a viral tweet used to get a few thousand retweets, it would now get tens of thousands — or even hundreds of thousands — of retweets. Powered by the new algorithmic weighting, the platform’s new quote-tweet function further turned Twitter into an ever-escalating, ever-nesting series of warring comments, dunks, and owns. Memes take hold, then disappear. One link of breaking news might hang suspended in your feed, hurtling through time like when astronauts do zero-gravity somersaults. You might see this as it happens — or 6, 9, 15, 22 hours later.

Trump’s racism, excess, nihilism, humor, and all the rest make him the ideal host for such a system — destroying forever that antiseptic corporate voice. But what Trump does best is reveal the nature of people and institutions. Even when Trump is gone, we’ll still have the algorithms; whether it’s that track from 2009 crossing from TikTok to Spotify, or a politician going live on Instagram, or whatever is happening on your phone right now — we’ve already adapted, and the next thing will be built on that shifting foundation.

Change like this can be overwhelming. The first run of Black Mirror, the dystopian British show that rose and fell inside Netflix, featured an episode about the relentless fragments that people now accumulate. Filmed in 2011, “The Entire History of You” takes an existing technology (the archival breadth of our phones), applies the logical conclusion (in the episode, people receive implants to track their every interaction for later playback), and sets both against a simple Greek tragedy–style story (a husband suspects his wife has betrayed him, and is driven mad by jealousy). The wife, hair over her eyes like a veil, reaches up to replay her memories for her husband.

Even in 2011, the episode presaged the now ever-present dialogue about cutting back, dropping out, and disconnecting: At a dinner, the table marvels at a woman who, without regret, has risked her memory and her eyesight to remove her implant.

The dynamic of overload and disorientation, and the final cathartic break from them, isn’t isolated to Black Mirror — it’s a dominant theme of the last five years of culture.

In real life, in the wake of the election, Facebook, Twitter, Google, and Instagram have talked about screentime limits, mute functions, preventing harassment and abuse — clawing back control. How to Do Nothing, Jenny Odell’s case for reasserting yourself in the tangible world, has become the centerpiece for essays and takes about cutting back and seeing, again, reality free from the algorithmic commodification of the personal. There are the essays about quitting Twitter, or the inherent avarice of Instagram, or reclaiming the life beyond the external presentation of self.

But people always seem to come back.

“This watch tells time,” begins a recent ad for the Apple Watch that then lists off all the other non-time-telling functions the item can do, from taking phone calls to playing music to performing an eletrocardiogram, before looping back around one last time at the end to say “This watch tells time.”

The introduction of this watch (that tells time) in 2015 deepened a kind of existential dilemma for the other kind of watches, which merely tell time. What purpose does a machine serve when the commodity that machine produced is all around us? “Why Men Are Wearing Watches That Don’t Tell Time,” read a Wall Street Journal headline a few years ago, like a riddle, above an old black-and-white photo of Andy Warhol wearing a Swatch.

Some men, the Journal reported, buy vintage mechanical watches but never get them serviced or repaired, or even wind them — they simply leave the watches dead. Stories like this can’t apply to that many people, but even if it’s just one man, somewhere right now, he walks this earth with a beautiful, broken watch.

Over the last decade, there have been little niche resurgences for items like this: record players, for instance, which promise tangible craftsmanship, and an audio experience that can’t be replicated in the digital. For $41.98, you can buy a lime green vinyl copy of Lana Del Rey’s new album and listen to her describe the end of the world and promise that she’s signing off before whispering at the very last moment “I hope the livestream’s almost on…” in perfect offline clarity. It’s hard to shake, however, the idea that these machines are simply counting off something that no longer needs counting, and trying to reassert the physicality of something no longer physical, detached and distinct from where all things meet.

We all know what’s changed — what’s really happened in the 2010s. It’s beneath that bridge in Brooklyn and it’s at the Trump rally in New Mexico, where exiting fans stopped to take selfies with the president speaking behind them in the distance. The man with the broken watch knows, the people who can’t quit know, and so does Lana Del Rey: The internet is no longer a place you go. Who we are on the phone and in the walking world have merged.

This is why algorithmic time is so disorienting and why it bends your mind. Everything good, bad, and complicated flows through our phones, and for those not living some hippie Walden trip, we operate inside a technological experience that moves forward and back, and pulls you with it. Using a phone is tied up with the relentless, perpendicular feeling of living through the Trump presidency: the algorithms that are never quite with you in the moment, the imperishable supply of new Instagram stories, the scrolling through what you said six hours ago, the four new texts, the absence of texts, that text from three days ago that has warmed up your entire life, the four versions of the same news alert. You can find yourself wondering why you’re seeing this now — or knowing too well why it is so. You can feel amazing and awful — exult in and be repelled by life — in the space of seconds. The thing you must say, the thing you’ve been waiting for — it’s always there, pulling you back under again and again and again. Who can remember anything anymore? ●

Sahred From Source link Technology

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