#yes there are lots of clothes in this but honestly team dark seems like the type to be stylish i think

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 1

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Murien, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T   All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

A/N: Beelzebub is Concerned and about to make it everyone else's problem.

***

[Back to Prologue]

***

“So, after I’m done writing, I check this box…”

“Yep.”

“... roll the parchment up like this, seal it…”

“Yep.”

“... aaand place it here. Yes?”

“Yes! You’re doing brilliant, Jibreel - and in just three days!”

As the parchment faded in a gleam of light, safely filed away and archived for all eternity, Muriel couldn’t help but clap a little. It was a simple task, but Jibreel looked very happy to have accomplished it, and she was very happy to see him looking very happy. Or to see anyone happy. Or to see anyone, period. So honestly, the clapping felt warranted. 

He grinned back, widely. “Thanks! I think I did good. Felt good.”

“You’ll be up to 37th class in no time at all! Get your own office and all.”

“Oh, I hope not. I like it here,” he replied, and sat back. He looked around and their white surroundings, at the empty surface before him. “... What now?”

“Oh! Now’s the exciting part! We wait for more things to come through that we can sort, record, and add to the archive.”

“That’s great! When are they coming?”

“Ah, we… we don’t know that, actually. Sometimes it’s a lot in a day! And sometimes it’s very little in a year. We’re in a bit of a slump now. The record was fifty years of nothing, back in the fifth century. Never had such a long empty stretch since, though.”

“Oh.” Jibreel frowned a little, looking around again. “So, what do we do now?”

Muriel tried to smile, but it was… a little bit forced. “Now we wait.”

“Right! I can wait. I’m good at waiting, I think.”

“Great!”

A few minutes passed. Muriel was used to long periods of just sitting there in silence, but it seemed… odd to do that, now that she was not alone. She shifted a little before speaking again. “So, um. What did you do before?”

“Before?”

“Before you were assigned to this post. Were you part of the Earth observation team?”

Jibreel narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. “I… don’t think so?”

“Oh. Well, surely you had a duty before?”

“I guess I must have? Everyone does, right?”

“You mean-- you don’t remember?”

“I remember coming here.” A frown. “An elevator, I think? I was standing near an elevator. Then that nice angel… the one earlier…” the frown deepened, and he rubbed his head as though in pain. That was odd, Muriel thought. It wasn’t an angel thing, to be in any pain. 

“Saraqael?” she asked.

“No, another one. I… I can’t recall. She came over and gave me new clothes, then she told me my name and that other one - Saraqael - took me here.”

“And it’s the first thing you remember?”

Jibreel nodded, and Muriel couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. It was unusual, to say the least. “Oh.”

“That’s… not normal?”

“Ah-- no, no, it’s… I mean, I never heard… but I don’t see a lot of angels, you know! So maybe it’s perfectly normal!” 

The confused frown disappeared, quickly as it had come, and Muriel quickly changed subject. “Oh, I know what we can do! I can help you practice what to say if someone comes in to ask for information! They do that sometimes. Last time was two hundred years ago.”

“Oh?” “Yes! So someone could need us anytime now!”

Another bright smile, and Jibreel stood. “On it! So, what do I do?”

“All right, so you’ll be the one asking, and I’ll reply, so you see how it’s done.”

“Great! What do I ask?”

“Oh, uh… say you need to double check directive C3483, paragraph 53, comma 89.”

“Perfect!”

As Jibreel stood to do as instructed neither of them noticed the fly buzzing quietly above them, one small dark dot in the endless whiteness.

***

“... Well. He does get to have a desk now, I suppose.”

“About half of one, but yes.”

“And he’s settled well?”

“He’s been learning his new duties with no incident. He seems rather content.”

“That’s good to know, Saraqael. I would not have wished him to be displeased with his new role. He has served Heaven well for thousands of years.”

“Of course. None of us would want that.”

A brief silence, and Michael moved her gaze from Saraqael to Uriel, who was staring out one of the windows, rigid and silent. Michael had to wonder whether it was all annoyance over the fact she had been right when she’d pointed out that Gabriel did not have, nor had ever had, a desk. He had indeed tried to make a run for it; Uriel had found him standing in front of the elevator, staring blankly at it, his jacket and shirt already off. 

Where he had tried to go was anybody’s guess. Perhaps he’d simply become scared they would cast him down to Hell after all. But his fear had been for nothing: he would remain in Heaven, where he belonged, getting his chance to start anew. 

“All’s well that ends well,” Michael said in the end. “Now we can focus on the preparation for Armageddon. I will re-establish diplomatic relations so we can agree on a time and--”

“Saraqael,” Uriel spoke, cutting her off like she hadn’t been speaking at all. “We have never attempted a complete memory wipe, let alone on someone as high ranking as a supreme archangel before. Are you certain it has worked as intended?”

A slightly offended scoff. “Of course it has. You saw him, didn’t you? Not a spark of recognition. I know what I’m doing.”

“I did not mean to offend,” Uriel replied, with the tone of someone whose concerns are not yet entirely eased. “I am not familiar with the procedure, and am asking you to confirm it has worked as intended.”

“It did. All his memories as the archangel Gabriel are gone from his mind.”

“From his mind.”

Ah. Michael could now see what it was that concerned Uriel. She frowned, and looked back at Saraqael. “I don’t suppose they could be destroyed from any plane of existence?”

A light scoff. “Nothing which belongs in Heaven can be downright destroyed. Unless we use hellfire, but it’s not an option with memories - not that it worked too well on an angel when you last tried, from what I heard,” Saraqael pointed out, very much aware of how little Michael and Uriel liked being reminded of that particular fiasco. “Destroying an angel’s memories like they have never been is beyond even the abilities of Metatron. God alone may wield such power.”

Michael and Uriel exchanged a quick glance. In the end, it was Uriel to speak. “... No need to bother God with any of this,” she said, as though God had answered to any of their messages in the past six thousand years. 

Saraqael nodded.

“Of course not. Besides, if destroying them is beyond anyone’s scope but God’s, so is retrieving them,” she pointed out. “Even if he knew he had memories to retrieve, which he does not, it would require a miracle whose power by far surpasses Gabriel’s own.”

“... There is no Gabriel, Saraqael.”

“Of course not,” she replied with a nod, and Michael nodded back. 

“Very well. We can consider the matter sorted. Now, as I was saying, if we’re to decide a new date for Armageddon, we should resume diplomatic contact with--”

The phone she’d left on the nearest surface lit up, and began to vibrate. She looked down at the name on the display, and raised an eyebrow. 

Well, she thought. Speak of the literal devil.

***

“Michael.”

“Lord Beelzebub, what a surprise. To what do I owe the displeasu--”

“I’m not speaking with you. Get me the moron in chief.”

“... I don’t believe we have such a title here,” Michael said, her already cold voice turning to frost. “Perhaps if you’d like to specify--”

“I demand to speak with Gabriel.”

“I am afraid that’s not possible.”

Beelzebub ground their teeth so hard that their jaw creaked. The grip on the phone became tight enough to crack the screen. They loathed making the call, but it had been three days since they first received that message upon trying to contact Gabriel, and they could no longer bear it. “Then make it possible, or I’ll give you plenty of excellent reasons to be afraid.”

“There’s no reason to be even more unpleasant than you usually are,” was the reply, without the slightest hint of intimidation. Not that Beelzebub had expected it to work. Michael was considered Heaven’s mightiest warrior for a reason. Her reputation for single-handedly throwing Satan himself down into the abyss was somewhat exaggerated, but not by much. “Whatever it is you wish to discuss with him, it can be discussed with me.”

“No, it cannot.”

“May I ask why not?”

Because you’re hiding something. Because this is all kinds of wrong. Where is he?

They wanted to say all that and more, scream and threaten, demand to know what was going on, but they did not. It would mean showing their hand early and that was something they could not afford. If Michael found out she had an edge on them, they’d never get answers. 

So, in the end, they said something else entirely. “You’re too far below me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you wish, but I pardon nothing. I only discuss with my equals, or the closest to an equal to be found within your ranks. It’s the supreme archangel, or no one.”

“Then I fear I’ll need to disappoint you,” Michael replied, sounding all too pleased about it. “At the moment, the position is vacant.”

The gnawing worry that had been eating away at Beelzebub’s already rather rotted guts turned to something else, cold and dark and suffocating. Vacant? It couldn’t be vacant. It had never been vacant. It’s never a good sign for a position in Heaven or Hell to become vacant. 

Where is he? What happened to him? What have you done?

The urge to scream returned, bubbling and buzzing up their throat, but they held it back, gnashing their teeth. They had to keep calm. Show Michael a single weakness, and it is over.

“What the Heaven do you mean, vacant? Heaven has never been without its supreme archangel.”

“It is temporary. Until someone else is appointed.”

Did they know? Did they find out? It seemed the most logical explanation, but at the same time Michael was saying nothing. Surely, if she knew - if Heaven knew Gabriel had been fraternizing with them - she’d be rubbing it in their face, wouldn’t she? Gabriel himself, the absolute moron he was, had never been concerned by the possibility. 

“What’s the worst they could do? Throw me down to Hell for you to deal with? Oh, the horror.”

“Oh, not afraid I might make you regret it?”

“Not even if you try your worst.���

“Where is Gabriel?” Beelzebub snapped, unable to hold back. Thankfully they snapped a lot, and the barked order came across as annoyance rather than growing dread. They were not new to dread, running Hell and all, but this was different from any type of dread they’d ever encountered or felt before. It’s the kind of dread of someone who stands to lose something. 

“Gabriel has been called to a different task.”

“What task?”

“It is confidential,” was the response. “Now, what did you intend to discu--”

The call ended abruptly. Throwing a phone at the wall - or in this case, the thick glass screen overseeing Hell - will usually cause that.

The crash caused a couple of demons to wince and turn, and a single snarl from Beelzebub was enough to get them quickly back to work. They stepped away from the glass and began pacing, trying to clear their mind. At the moment, the only clear thing was that they had absolutely no future in the field of diplomatic relations; everything else was a maelstrom of confusion and fear unlike anything they had experienced before.

Gabriel had disappeared, that was a fact. And he had disappeared without a word to them, his phone disconnected, leaving the position of Supreme Archangel vacant. 

Gabriel was missing, and Heaven was hiding the reason why. Called to a different task, Michael had said, but something about her tone had told Beelzebub precisely what they needed to know, and had feared to hear. Gabriel had been removed from office, and yet he had not been cast down to Hell. 

So where was he? He had to be somewhere, it’s not like they could destroy an archangel. They had no means to do such a thing in Heaven, unless… unless…

Hellfire. The hellfire they had given them four years earlier, to deal with their own traitor. The one who had first worked to prevent Armageddon, just as Gabriel had done later.

We never took that fire back. What if they chose the same sentence, for the same crime?

Beelzebub stopped pacing as though struck. They saw it with the mind’s eye, Gabriel screaming in flames they had delivered to Heaven before being reduced to nothing, utterly destroyed. Gone. 

With no warning, the core itself of Hell shook and flames flared higher. Demons yelped in surprise and damned souls cried out in terror, but any sound they made was drowned out by a screeching cry blackest fury, deepest hatred, and utter pain. The glass screen cracked and shattered, and a swarm of flies burst forth, a black mass drowning out the cries of damned and demons alike even as the screeching scream faded in a low, guttural growl. 

They’ll pay for it. I’ll start the war here and now. Rules be damned. Agreements be damned. Warnings be damned. We’ll scorch Heaven and Earth with hellfire and I’ll see them scream and die, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll-- I--

A soft buzzing sound, and a single fly landed on Beelzebub’s hand, which was balled into a tight fist. They looked at it, still growling and shaking, and suddenly they found themself thinking of another fly entirely. The container, their gift to Gabriel. The first gift he’d ever received, he had told them, with that oddly vulnerable expression they had never seen on him before. The first gift, and also the last.

… Or was it?

Beelzebub breathed in and then slowly out, staring at that single fly to keep themself grounded, to focus on the memory of Gabriel as they’d last seen him - whole and well, smiling at them before stepping in the elevator, rather than screaming in a column of hellfire.

Maybe they hadn’t destroyed him. Maybe there was another explanation; if other angels realized he was purposefully blocking Armageddon from taking place, he may very well have become a prisoner. If Beelzebub decided to lay waste on Heaven now, and he was there, he may be destroyed with all the rest. No, they could not act on impulse. They had to think he was still alive, and act accordingly. They had to find out what precisely had happened in Heaven, covertly. Sneakily. 

And they knew one demon with heavenly ties who was very, very good at sneaking around.

***

There are few places and moments in life, Crowley reasoned, when a swarm of flies manifesting out of thin air is convenient. Inside a Bentley which was currently speeding through an intersection while passing a school bus was neither one of those places, nor one of those moments.

“Been a long time, Crowley.”

“Oh, come o--!”

“Bus ahead.”

To his credit, Crowley managed to swerve around the bus in question despite the flies clouding his vision; by the time he shoved the Bentley in the first available empty space at the side of the road, cutting in front of three cars and a truck in the process, the flies had finished coming together and someone else sat in the car with him.

Someone Crowley had kind of hoped never to have to see again. “Lord Beelzebub. What do I owe the-- huh. New face?”

“New face,” was the response, in the tone of someone who’d really rather not waste another second talking about it. “I’m here to give you a new mission.”

Ah. “I’m fairly sure Shax said I’m still persona non grata in Hell.”

“You are. And you have the chance to change it. Actually, you have the chance to become a Duke of Hell.”

Crowley blinked, then slid the sunglasses down his nose for a better look at the Lord of the Flies. Maybe it was the new face, but they seemed animated in a way he had never seen before. They seemed worried, working their jaw and smoothing down their jacket in quick, nervous gestures before looking back at him. That in itself worried him in turn. If something was up causing such concern for Beelzebub of all demons, then everyone else probably would have good reason to be terrified. 

“That’s… flattering, but--”

“A full pardon. A place in the Dark Council. Whatever your nasty little heart desires, you shall have it.”

“Why turn to me--”

“To you, and your pet angel.”

There were several words Crowley may have used to describe Aziraphale, but pet was not about them. As he choked on his own spit, Beelzebub spoke again - louder, quicker, and more urgent. 

“Listen. You and the angel betrayed Hell and Heaven both solely to stop Armageddon. You don’t want to see your efforts go to waste, no? Because there is talk of starting it anew.”

“What-- without the Antichrist?”

“Without the Antichrist. Just plain war, no less devastating. Do you want to stop it or not?”

“I-- is that a trick question?”

“I don’t do trick questions. I want to enlist your help to find the archangel Gabriel, and keep Armageddon from coming to pass.”

As far as Crowley was concerned, Lord Beelzebub couldn’t have put together a more nonsensical string of words if they’d picked them at random from a dictionary and then put them through an online translator from English to Aramaic to Greek and then back to English. 

“... What?”

“You heard me.”

“You wanted to start the Armageddon--”

“My priorities have shifted, but I do believe yours have stayed the same. You want Earth to survive, I want to find Gabriel. Our goals conveniently coincide. What more do you need?”

“I am sorry. Are you actively trying to make as little sense as possible? Because--”

Beelzebub snarled, it was enough for him to fall silent. The Lord of the Flies took a moment to draw in a deep breath before they spoke again, with forced calm. “I will explain everything to you and the angel. Take me to him.”

“No.”

“... I’m going to pretend I have not heard and give you one more chance to--”

“No demon but me is crossing that bookshop’s threshold.”

Some furious buzzing, and Crowley gripped the wheel tighter, waiting for severe pain, but it never came. Instead, Beelzebub just ground their teeth. “I have no interest in harming him.”

“Given the precedents, you’ll forgive me for being cautious,” Crowley replied. He fully expected fury, truth be told, but was once again surprised. Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate a moment, and finally nodded.

“... Very well. I forgive nothing, but I understand. Tell him we’ll meet on neutral ground.”

“Riiiiight. Well, I’ll see when he’s free and ask him--”

“Call him now,” Beelzebub cut him off, and looked him in the eye. “If you want your precious Earth to survive, you’ll waste no further time.”

In the end, he didn’t waste any time. Honestly, it didn’t feel like he had that much of a choice.

***

There was something up there. 

Jibreel noticed it while leaning back on the chair, careful not to put his feet up on the desk because Muriel had said he shouldn’t do it. They weren't there now - they’d left saying they wanted to look at something in the archives, and reassuring him he was ready to handle any work that came through - but he wouldn’t do something they didn’t want him to. They had been really nice to him.

But he was bored, just sitting there on his own, so he’d slumped back and looked up - and there it was. A… well, he wasn’t sure. It was something that moved in quick circles above him, small and dark as everything else was white and vast. He frowned a little and, without thinking, held up a hand.

There was no real reason why the thing should come to him, but it did. It floated down to rest on the tip of his fingers, buzzing softly, and Jibreel brought it closer to his face to have a look. It was a… what was the name? A fly, right? Yes, he was almost sure that was it. Funny, that. He didn’t think there were any flies in Heaven. They usually were on Earth, or at least he guessed so. He had never been on Earth, as far as he could recall - which to be fair wasn’t long. But somehow, he knew flies were not supposed to be there. 

Hell, maybe - were there flies in Hell? Yes, somehow Jibreel was fairly sure that there were a lot of flies in Hell, too. He had definitely never been there himself, though.

The fly on his fingers buzzed, but didn’t fly off, and Jibreel found himself smiling at it. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but of course there was no response other than more soft buzzing. It was kind of cute, seen up close. Jibreel smiled again. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. But I won’t tell. It will be our secret and all,” he added, feeling rather giddy at the idea of having something as forbidden as a secret. He winked at the fly, which didn’t bother to wink back before taking flight again. But it stayed right above him, and Jibreel was absurdly certain it was not going to leave. 

For some reason, it put an even wider smile on his face. He leaned back on the seat and kept following the fly with his gaze, unblinking and unthinking, until he found himself humming, tapping a foot on the floor. 

“Everyday, it’s-a getting closer…”

***

A good cup of tea, Aziraphale firmly believed, could smooth over just about any type of crisis. Or at least make it feel like less of a crisis. Failing that, hot chocolate would usually succeed. 

However, he recognized that there were few, particularly dire instances in which neither tea nor hot chocolate could help. In such cases, coffee would be needed - possibly with a good dollop of something sweet added to it. 

Only after sitting down next to Crowley at Nina’s coffee shop, the records Maggie had given him under his arm and Crowley as well as the literal Lord of the Flies sitting across them, did he wonder about the wisdom of giving Beelzebub caffeine. But as they never so much as touched the cup, he supposed he would never find out whether it was a mistake. That, and soon enough the theoretical effect of caffeine on hellish royalty was the least of his worries. 

“Heaven and Hell want to push ahead with Armageddon - again - and you and Gabriel wanted to stop it?”

“Yes,” Beelzebub replied, and silenced the question that followed with a gesture. “We changed our mind. The reason why is none of your concern, before you ask, but I do believe our goals align and--”

“And now he’s missing and his seat is vacant?” Aziraphale cut them off, bewildered. That gained him a markedly unimpressed look. 

“... Is there a specific reason why you’re repeating everything I have told you so far?”

“It’s a lot to wrap one’s mind around, I’m sure you can agree?” Crowley spoke, the casual leaning in his seat doing very little to hide how tense it was. “You and Gabriel both tried really hard to make Armageddon happen. When it didn’t, and decided it was our fault, you sort of tried just as hard to destroy us.”

Beelzebub had the good sense to look… if certainly not awkward, at least a little tense themself. Aziraphale set his jaw, not about to say anything to smooth things over now; he had never forgotten the casual order the Lord of the Flies had given to have a bystander demon destroyed in holy water solely to test it, nor the indifference when they had sentenced Crowley to die the same gruesome way. It was nothing he had not expected from Hell, truth be told, but it had been rather upsetting. 

On his end, Crowley had never quite told him the details of the attempt at carrying out the same sentence in Heaven; only that he had been told to step in hellfire and had surprised the archangels present by breathing a little bit of it in their direction, which had been a rather amusing mental image. 

“Well. You were not destroyed, and you don’t wish Earth to be either. It is in everyone’s best interest if we collaborate. And by everyone’s, I mean that of all sitting at this table.”

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve grown a soft spot for Earth?”

A scoff. “Obviously not. This is not about Earth. It’s what you care about.”

“What is it about for you, then?”

For the first time since that odd meeting had started, Lord Beelzebub seemed to hesitate. They worked their jaw briefly, clearly debating whether or not they should be truthful. It was an odd inner conflict to see play out on a being Aziraphale had always known as a powerful but distant foe, but it did not last long. Beelzebub seemed to come to a decision and leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

“For me, it’s about Gabriel. They did something to him. I am sure they did.”

“Seems likely,” Crowley muttered, not really distraught. “Still don’t get what that’s to y--”

“I want him back,” Beelzebub cut him off. The last word of Crowley’s sentence - you - turned into a choked out ‘uuuh?’ before he fell silent, staring at the Lord of the Flies with his mouth hanging open. It gained him a raised eyebrow. “Close that mouth before flies get in it. That is a threat.”

Crowley closed his mouth so abruptly his teeth clicked together, then hurriedly took a sip from his coffee. As for Aziraphale, he found himself staring with wide eyes as realization dawned on him. Beelzebub had a soft spot all right, but not for Earth. It was for Gabriel.

That was not what he’d expected to hear, although to be fair he was not sure what he’d even thought this could be about. In retrospect, everything in Beelzebub’s behavior seemed to scream a connection to the missing archangel that went well beyond a professional relationship. In the end, he cleared his throat and took a sip from his coffee.

“Not to pry, but I seem to understand yourself and Gabriel have grown, um. Close?”

“In a way neither Heaven nor Hell would approve, hence why I had to turn to you.” A long look, their gaze shifting from his to Crowley and then back, and they cocked their head. “Certainly, I don’t need to explain more. It’s not something unfamiliar to the two of you.”

The coffee Crowley had been sipping was promptly sprayed back inside the mug. Aziraphale nearly spilled in own mug, stammering. 

“I, I mean-- we do go way back, so I suppose-- we have an understanding, but--”

Beelzebub silenced him with a gesture. “I don’t care to hear it. All I care about is finding out where Gabriel is and what was done to him, and taking him back. Help me, and I’ll hold off Armageddon until a more permanent solution to avoid it is found. Do we have a deal?”

A pause, a quick glance between the two of them. 

Do we have a choice?, Aziraphale’s look said.

Not really, Crowley’s replied, and that was that.

***

“Oh, I really shouldn't have even come here…”

No one was there to hear Muriel’s anxious whine, but they slapped both hands over their mouth anyway, just in case. Not that they were doing anything forbidden, per se - they were authorized to search the archive, after all - but it still seemed wrong, to have doubts over the word of an archangel. It wasn’t even real doubts, they just had… questions. 

One big question, really - why did Jibreel remember nothing from his existence before he’d been taken to work with them as a junior recording angel? It had been bothering them more than it probably should, and they had considered asking someone higher up, but… well. Surely they had better things to do than answering a silly question, no? It was probably nothing important, they’d thought. 

They could find out on their own, sate their curiosity and then be back. 

Except that things had taken an unexpected turn, because they had found a folder marked with his name - Jibreel - but it really wasn’t like they had expected. A junior recording angel’s folder is never very full, simply because… well, there is not a lot to record about those working on records, so to speak. It was a fairly uneventful job and it made for an uneventful eternity, overall. Muriel’s own folder had only about two pages to it. 

Jibreel’s folder was nothing like that. It didn’t look thicker than normal, but as they picked it up there was a weight to it that told them it was much, much fuller than their own. Much fuller than any other folder they’d handled, really - there had to be a lot in there.

And, they soon realized, they couldn’t open it. It was classified, and required a much higher clearance - like a throne or a dominion, or something even above that. 

They wouldn’t classify the folder of a simple junior recording angel, would they? Not with such high clearance. There is a lot more to Jibreel than even he knows.

It was a rather baffling development, and more than a little intimidating, really. Muriel didn’t know what it was all about and to be honest, they really wished she hadn’t wondered in the first place. It was much too above them. Surely, if Jibreel did not recall his past, there was a good reason for it. Who were they to question the decisions of archangels?

They would just walk out, go back to their station, and never utter a word of this to anyone - much less to Jibreel. After all, he’d never asked them to look anything up; he’d never asked a thing, and he was happy as a clam.

Muriel saw no reason to open their mouth and risk changing that.

***

[Back to Prologue]

[On to Chapter 2]

[hazbinhappy]

Hey there! It's always fun to see people engaging in creative and fun things in their spare time. Enjoy your spring break! <3 I would like to request a match-up, if that is alright. I identify as she/her and am heterosexual. My personality type is ISFP, and I love performing arts! I have done both backstage and on-stage work as a theater girly, performing in musicals, more specifically, is my specialty. I love the thrill of being on stage, knowing I am bringing joy to people just by being entertaining. Singing, acting, and dancing are my bread and butter. I also like writing poetry and my own music. I play multiple instruments and like experimenting with new ones,DJ boards are fun too, and I recently got into that technology. I love classic literature. I am also the kind of person to dress up, even for video conferences, lol. If I had a demon form, it would probably be very pale, shoulder-length dark wavy hair, kinda big head with eyes that resemble cds if you actually look for too long, and generally is kinda on the short side in comparison to others, long black nails that she keeps in stiletto style, likes to wear purple and blue dress clothes a lot, and possibly have bunny ears too that she tucks into her hair since they are floppy. I just came up with that off the top of my head for giggles since why not. I can't really think of anything else to throw out there, take care, and have a fantastic evening/morning/afternoon/night! <3

Your Matchup is....

Vox!

Hear me out hear me out hear me out! I paired you two up because of the ability to be personable! Lemme me elaborate:

I won't lie: I have no clue how anyone would meet Vox! It can go so many ways! But I think you being someone who just makes music videos on social media (think of tiktok) for fun and you were gaining a lot of traction! Maybe you also were working for someone to run their social media PR

I'm not too sure but I am one hundred percent settled on it being you having gained his attention through social media

now that seems like Velvette's area, right? Yes, but I think Vox has a say in that department as well because come on? He has to at least have some voice in the PR of VoxTech

Anyways: let's say that Velvette suggested you as someone to join the PR team for the V's because their last one got themselves murked in the most recent extermination

Vox didn't care really until you showed up to get a video approved (that you happily voiced and created)

he didn't want to seem too interested but he liked that you had the personality that drew people in and kept them smiling and entertained

so of course he exploited that... at least in the beginning.

he kept you WORKING until you complained and said something which was a little dispute but y'all worked out a schedule

this was the slowest of burns because the man will not admit his feelings for the love of god

most likely you having to come and call him out on his behavior because the constant stalking and assignments just to see you was getting annoying

once y'all are together it's of course not all sunshine

he is constantly bitching about Valentino or Alastor or even his consumers and employees (just a whiner honestly) but you offer occasionally advice or just listen so he has a place to vent

he is of course going to make sure you have everything up to date! and you'll probably be the safest because he knows where you are

you probably avoid trying to use his money, but wow there is suddenly a VoxTech theatre??? That is so crazy and oh my gosh what is that?? You're in charge of it all and get to manage it and do whatever!!

it may sound like a weird match, but please see the vision, I see it.

"Hello, my dear-"

"Vox, you know I absolutely love your technology, obviously, but..." You frowned as you stood on the ladder fiddling with one of the many cameras in the theatre hall.

"But what?" He frowned as he watched you through the camera, "The cameras help with people being disruptive or just in general being a bad audience-"

"Yeah, but they glow. They ruin the ambiance."

"So?"

"Soooo they ruin the fact that the theatre is supposed to be completely dark so you can watch the show."

"... I suppose I could find a new solution."

"You better or I'm finding a way to take these all out myself."

[solalunar-eclipse]

45.06°N, 1.656°E

Summary: Rouge deserves more cool.

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Hopefully my writing abilities haven’t deteriorated too much over the hiatus- but either way, please enjoy! (Side note: this is technically set after Scars You Can’t See, but it isn’t vital to read that if you haven’t already)

...

It was truly a beautiful day outside in Empire City. Puffy clouds drifted across a rich blue sky, a light breeze pushing them along as the sun shone down brightly- just enough to bring the temperature up to a comfortable range. Its rays shimmered upon one of the many tall, silvery buildings that this city was known for, threatening to leave a temporary mark on the vision of anyone who looked at it for too long. This particular building advertised itself as an insurance company’s headquarters, and it looked perfectly in place amongst all the other skyscrapers in the city.

The activities going on inside, however, were anything but ‘in place’.

Near the very top of the towering structure, a bat sat in front of a wall-sized computer screen, her black-gloved fingers flying across the keyboard. Firewalls and security systems fell like sandcastles swept out by the tide- no corner of this building was safe when she was in control. Identity checks meant nothing to her, passwords were a breeze, and two-factor authentication? A joke.

Rouge smiled in satisfaction, taking a break to stretch out her fingers now that she was successfully through the various measures designed to keep hackers like her out of these computers. With a click of the mouse and a few keys tapped, the various sums of money the people who worked here had stolen began to make their way back to their rightful owners’ bank accounts.

After all, this building didn’t actually house an insurance company. That was just a cover story for the real business here- draining the cash out of innocent people’s funds. Rouge had been determined to stop this as soon as she’d learned about it before any more people got hurt (when she stole it was usually from rich people who could afford to have one of many diamonds go missing- this was just cruel!), and now she’d successfully completed about half the job. Just returning the money wasn’t quite enough, of course- this scheme had been running for over a year now, and it was about time someone put a stop to it for good. 

That was where her friends came in.

While she manned the cameras, Shadow and Omega were grabbing plenty of physical evidence from the various offices throughout the building- more than enough to incriminate everyone who worked here. Rouge’s job was mostly to ensure that they could get what they needed without any serious trouble. It might be a difficult task, considering that Omega was set on blowing up most of the tech stored here...but she was prepared to deal with that.

The bat leaned back in her chair, catching a quick glimpse of herself in the window as she did so. Ever since they’d left G.U.N., a great perk (in addition to the lack of association with a corrupt military organization, obviously) was that they could wear whatever they wanted on the job. Before, Rouge had really been pushing it on ‘formality’ with her jumpsuit alone, and even then she hadn’t been allowed to wear anything else while on the job for the sake of ‘consistency’.

Now, in a drastic change from her usual style, she wore a tight black leather jumpsuit over a purple shirt, complete with white gloves and high-heeled boots. The latter two had neon blue accents, too, providing a burst of color as well as an actual light source to see by- perfect for dark missions.

Shadow and Omega hadn’t been allowed any personal effects re: clothing before due to the fact that a few too many supervisors saw them as weapons and not people. Rouge had of course argued against this, but there was only so much one person could do.

Now, though, the bat had insisted that both of her friends get more clothing- ‘if nothing else then to stick it to them’ were her exact words- and they had both taken to it quite well after an initial period of hesitancy. Omega in particular had been quite devastated (and then promptly offended) upon discovering that no leather jackets were currently produced in his specific size. Eventually, however, he was placated with the offer of a fedora, claiming it made him look ‘VERY MYSTERIOUS’. He had now taken to collecting hats as well as weaponry.

Shadow could fit into a leather jacket, on the other hand, and consequently owned about five of them, three of which he’d bought within the same week. Today he wore one with red stitching, and while he hadn’t had anything to say about it, Rouge had caught him admiring it in the mirror before the mission (at which point he scowled, blushed green to his ears, and teleported away).

Right now, though, he and Omega were quietly discussing which documents to take and which ones to leave behind. It would raise suspicions far too quickly if the criminals inhabiting this building came back to discover a completely bare office, after all, so they only took several receipts of major transactions as well as a list of the bank account numbers that had been hacked- and some future targets as well.

(Was this whole thing illegal? Kind of. Did anyone really mind so long as they were helping others? Not really. After all, Tails was totally not old enough to fly a plane, but at this point the government had basically thrown up their hands and said ‘whatever I guess’, so it was fine.)

“ROUGE.” Omega said suddenly, making the bat stop her musing and drop her feet from the desk. “THIS IS IMPORTANT.”

“Yeah, hon? What is it?” she asked, ready to deal with any problems that might arise.

“MY HAT KEEPS FALLING OFF. I REQUIRE SOME SORT OF METHOD TO KEEP IT ON.”

The bat sighed and gave a relieved laugh as Shadow hissed, “Omega! This is a serious mission!”

“It’s alright, Shadow. Omega, we’ll find some double-sided tape or something when we get home, alright?”

The robot paused for a moment, thinking. “THIS IS ACCEPTABLE.”

As Rouge watched, they gathered up the rest of the items and began to move towards the lobby. Today was an off day for the ‘business’, so most of the hallways would be empty. The secretary out front would take his usual break to go get lunch in two minutes as well, giving them a clear chance to escape.

And of course that was when everything went wrong.

It turned out that leaving G.U.N. (while the right idea) wasn’t without its occasional disadvantages. If they’d still been part of the military organization, then they would’ve had the resources to figure out that these criminals were more than a little paranoid, so their security system ran diagnostics every hour on the dot. When it discovered the hacking, it locked Rouge’s access to any other computer terminal and then restricted every single application on that one computer.

These people weren’t exactly beginners when it came to computers, after all.

The bat jumped out of her chair the second her computer glitched and froze, panicked. “Guys. Guys, get out of here right now.” she said urgently into her microphone. “I can bust out a window but you two have to go right now-”

She froze as, on the screen, multiple armed guards and two gigantic mechs dropped down onto the ground level and pointed their guns at Shadow and Omega. The robot moved to cover the hybrid’s back as Shadow pulled his favorite katana sword out of its scabbard.

Rouge refused to sit and watch another minute, kicking the door off its hinges hard enough to slam it against the opposite wall and tearing down the hallway to save her teammates.

Shadow and Omega fought well in the meantime, managing to take out one of the mechs and several guards too. Occasionally, Shadow even curled up and was promptly fired out of his friend’s cannon at top speed, turning into a deadly projectile all by himself.

Eventually, though, one of the guards got too smart and pulled out a stun gun, shocking Omega long enough to put the robot temporarily out of commission. Shadow spun around to defend his friend, using the Chaos Emerald he’d brought along to deliver a devastating blow- but he had nobody to watch his back now, and it barely took a minute before the mech found an opening to slam him into the wall as he dealt with the guards.

Shadow dropped to the ground weakly, temporarily unconscious. Omega was still struggling to get his systems back online.

Rouge, meanwhile, was furious.

The bat rushed to the balcony overlooking the lobby from the third floor, her teeth bared as she watched the mech move into position, prepared to bring its giant fist down on Shadow’s unmoving body. Flipping over the railing, she free-fell the three stories to the ground, slamming both heels into the marble and leaving a long crack across the floor. She snatched up the Emerald from the tile where it had fallen out of Shadow’s quills, holding it tightly in her hand. 

“Leave him alone. Now.” she snarled.

When the mech pilot gave her nothing more than a cursory glance, raising the steel fist higher, Rouge charged.

An ultrasonic shriek exploded from her lungs, making every other human in the room double over and clutch their ears. At the exact same time, the glass in the extra-tall windows of the lobby vibrated, cracked, and then shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Rouge didn’t see any of that. Rouge didn’t care about any of that. All she could see was the hedgehog she’d come to care about so much about to be crushed by someone who barely even knew his name.

She jumped up and whirled around in the air, the power of her wings suddenly (strangely) strong enough to send the mech swaying backwards slightly, before lashing out with a kick that dented the chestplate of the thing and hit it hard enough to-

-and Rouge’s eyes widened-

-to send it flying through the shattered windows and down the street that the building faced, so far that it became nothing more than a speck in the horizon.

This was, incidentally, a mech that weighed over two tons. 

Omega, near the other end of the room, silently thanked every inventor that had ever lived (aside from Eggman) that he had powered back on in time to see this.

Rouge, however, didn’t spare more than a second to think about it, instead dropping to her knees to check on Shadow. The moment she pressed the Chaos Emerald back into his hand, the hybrid’s eyes began to open slowly.

“Ugh….what happened…?”

“That moron of a pilot smacked you into a wall, hon. Are you gonna be okay?” Rouge asked, scanning his face for any sign of a concussion.

Shadow blinked twice, then suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. “...Rouge? Are you sure you’re alright?” 

The bat frowned, confused, looking over herself. “Yeah, hon, I’m….”

She froze.

While Rouge had seen many strange things in her time, the sight of her lower legs and feet glowing bright purple was certainly a first.

As she jumped back from Shadow in surprise, she let go of the Chaos Emerald in his hand, making the aura surrounding her fade. “What...what was that?”

“YOU WERE SO COOL. THAT IS WHAT THAT WAS.” Omega declared, hauling himself to his feet and walking over. “YOU BEGAN TO GLOW AND KICKED THAT INFERIOR CREATION SEVERAL MILES AWAY. THE ONLY REGRET IN THIS SCENARIO IS THAT YOU WERE UNABLE TO CONTINUE DESTROYING YOUR ENEMIES, AS THERE WAS ONLY ONE OF THEM.”

Shadow looked up at her in surprise and- was that a little bit of awe? “I should have known you’d be able to use Chaos powers!” he said, shaking his head as he got to his feet. “Incredible...it’s no wonder you’re so resilient in battle.”

Rouge pointedly ignored the light flush on her face from all of this praise. “Well, we’ve got what we came for, so there. We’ll leave all of this evidence-” and clearly she wasn’t just talking about the papers- “for that new organization the government’s setting up. What’s it called again?”

Omega shrugged- an odd motion with his bulky shoulders. “THEY’RE STILL DECIDING. HOPEFULLY IT TURNS OUT TO BE SOMETHING COOL.”

“Well, whatever their name is, it’s their job now to deal with all this.” Rouge said, gesturing around at the general mess.

At that moment, the secretary returned with his food, only to stop dead in his tracks and stare at the three members of Team Dark amongst the wreckage of two gigantic robots and a lot of broken glass.

The bat ‘s face split into a wide, wicked grin, pointing directly at him. “And you’ll be the one to explain it to them!”

(It took one extremely short chase to retrieve the man- who foolishly thought he could lose Shadow and Rouge in the alleyways- before he was tied to one of the disgustingly ostentatious pillars by Omega. The team then went home and spent the next two hours watching Rouge glow and then break things…mostly things she meant to hit.)

…

Several days later, her team and Sonic's crew (plus Amy Rose) were in a different city, dealing with the usual biweekly Eggman attack. This one seemed, unfortunately, to not have most of the weak spots that usually came into play when fighting one of his giant robots, as both the power source and the mad scientist in question were heavily guarded.

However, after a particularly well-timed attack from Omega, Amy, and Knuckles all at once, Rouge spotted a panel that was currently rather dented and bent open with some wiring spilling out, and knew exactly what to do.

“Shadow! Omega! Cover me!” she shouted, leaping into the air and soaring towards the robot.

Immediately, she saw several smaller robots explode in her periphery, having fallen victim to the deadly lasers and Chaos Spears that her friends used. Her focus was on one thing and one thing only, though- making it up to that panel.

The moment Rouge latched on, she pulled open the panel the rest of the way and began to rewire the machine at an impressive pace. While she might not be the same kind of tech expert as Tails, who built devices and wrote code most people with a PhD couldn’t understand if they tried, one thing she certainly knew was how to make computers do what she wanted.

Eventually, though, Eggman caught on to what she was doing and tried to swat her off his mech with its two giant metal fists. “What do you think you’re doing down there with my robot?” he shouted, swinging at her wildly.

Suddenly, one of the fists in question promptly vanished, replaced by a smoking hole and a bunch of wires where a functioning steel hand was supposed to be. Rouge, startled, looked around for what could possibly have caused this- and promptly relaxed upon seeing Omega retracting his biggest laser cannon (which was glowing red-hot) back into his chassis with a glare up at his creator.

Thankfully, he’d also provided just the distraction she needed to rewire the last few parts, at which point she jumped off just as the robot began to spin wildly...and then its entire midsection exploded, launching the command center with Eggman still inside a good fifty feet into the air.

The bat landed on the ground to cheers from her friends and took a dramatic bow. Omega clapped a hand on her shoulder in a friendly way (which meant he only knocked the wind out of her and didn’t shove her several feet deep into the asphalt) as Shadow looked on with his arms folded, but still clearly proud.

“Wow, Rouge!” Tails exclaimed, his eyes wide and smile wider. “I didn’t realize you knew your way around that kind of tech that well- you should totally stop by my lab sometime!”

The bat shrugged. “It comes with the job, that’s all.” she insisted, but internally she was more than a little surprised- it still didn’t quite come naturally to her to consider that people would be impressed by what she did. All G.U.N. had ever told her was that she’d done ‘as well as was expected’, which made it seem like her skills were just average. Seeing someone who she’d mostly considered an acquaintance telling her how incredible her skills were when to her it was just ‘something I can do’ was...pretty nice, actually.

Rouge offered him a quick grin as the other three heroes came rushing up to her in varying states of surprise and excitement. “I just might take you up on that offer sometime.”

…

A week after that, Team Dark was spending time at the Station Square mall together- a common occurrence for them. It had good clothes, tolerable food, and most importantly lots of jewelry stores. They were here today because Rouge’s favorite was having a sale, and she refused to miss out on any opportunity to shop for gems.

After about an hour of looking around in the store (most of which was spent attempting to prevent Rouge from emptying said store and/or sneaking things out from inside locked cases), the three finally left with about four tiny bags of jewelry, which Omega wore hooked over his fingers. “THIS SEEMS WASTEFUL, BUT ALSO AMUSING.” he’d commented, at which point the bat riding on his shoulder gasped in mock outrage and began to vehemently defend the store’s choices.

They hadn’t gone more than a few steps, though, before she heard some gasps and squeals somewhere off to the left. She sighed. Some people seemed to have this odd hero-worship thing around Shadow, but the attention only made him feel awkward, so it looked like she’d have to play guard as usual here. Drifting down from her perch as the three young women approached, she said, “Alright, ladies, what are you here for?”

The bravest of the three moved forward, clutching something in her hands. “Uh…”

Rouge prepared herself to say no on behalf of her friend, to hear complaints like ‘why can’t we talk to Shadow?? You suck”, but then-

“...can you sign this poster, please?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t— wait, what?”

The bat stared at the poster, her eyes wide. A picture of herself looked right back at her, a smirk spread across her printed self’s face as jewels dripped from the hand not resting on her hip.

The photo was rather outdated now, having been taken not long after the ARK disaster. Post-crisis, Sonic had insisted that everyone (except for Eggman, since he’d caused that whole mess in the first place) get recognition for trying to save the planet together...and that included her. 

Rouge and Sonic had both been wearing Shadow’s inhibitor rings during that photo shoot. It was their way of making sure that even though he wasn’t with them any longer, even though nobody would really remember who he was, he’d still live on in some little way without a big announcement.

She took the poster quickly, shaking off old memories, and gave them a genuine smile- rare for strangers. “Of course, hon!” she said, taking the offered pen and signing her name with a flourish and a little heart.

The one who’d asked promptly squealed and clutched at the poster, a big grin on her face. “Oh wow, thank you sooo much!” she gushed. “You know, you’re, like, my hero, right? Everyone always just, like, says that you can’t look good and be a real hero at the same time, you’re either a sell-out or too serious...but, you’re, like, both?? And that’s just so, y’know, empowering? To see someone looking fabulous and being a hero, but like not taking any nasty comments about it?”

Both her friends agreed eagerly, and Rouge found herself blushing just a little at all this praise. “If either of you have anything else, I could write something on those too,” she offered, still feeling a little bit bewildered at the moment.

This earned her two simultaneous squeals of “Really?!” followed by a lot of frantic searching for paper. Rouge was more than happy to sign her name there too, even adding a little message to each of them- and to the poster for good measure. As the three fans cheered, snapped a quick selfie with her (which was something she so wasn’t used to either), and then rushed off with a “thank you so much!!” Rouge found herself still smiling as she turned to walk back to her friends.

Shadow and Omega had moved a little ways away during all of the fuss, and now they were sporting similarly pleased expressions with more than a little bit of smugness mixed in. “SEE?” Omega asked, and Rouge could tell he’d be smirking if he were able to do so. “WE HAVE TOLD YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT YOU ARE EXCEPTIONALLY COOL. YOU DIDN’T BELIEVE US THEN, THOUGH….DO YOU NOW?” He stopped there and somehow promptly assumed an even stronger I-told-you-so air than before.

“Maybe you’ll even get your own fanclub before long...oh, wait. Look what I just found.” Shadow added, tossing his phone over to her. Only the faintest of smirks was visible on his face (they were in public, after all) as Rouge stared at the screen proclaiming the current website to be “The Official Rouge Fansite (anyone feel free to join!!)”.

The bat found herself blushing to her ears, flattered and surprised by all of the support she hadn’t known existed until now.

Omega picked her up and set her on his shoulder, turning his head to look up at his friend. “COOL PEOPLE LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WALK PLACES.”

“And-” Shadow added, slinging the bags she’d acquired at the store over her shoulder. “-cool people like you shouldn’t have to carry anything either.”

Rouge wondered briefly if her grin might strain her face if it grew much wider. Leaping down for a moment, she hovered in the air just long enough to ruffle the quills on top of Shadow’s head before perching back on Omega’s shoulder and patting the robot fondly. “You two dorks are the best.” she said warmly.

Shadow huffed and began to walk on ahead, clearly embarrassed. “DORK.” Omega called after the hedgehog, his eyes brightening by about fifteen percent in good humor. 

“She called you one too, you know.” Shadow replied without looking back.

“YES, BUT YOUR DORKINESS IS MORE OBVIOUS.” Omega declared, by now shouting across several stores as Rouge tried to stifle a laugh.

“If you don’t catch up and stop talking I’ll hide all the hats in your favorite store and you’ll never find them.” the hybrid growled.

Rouge promptly discovered that Omega, despite weighing a thousand pounds, could in fact move quite quickly when threatened with the loss of a chance to add to his new clothing collection. The robot fired all of his boosters at once, sending them flying down that particular wing of the mall and nearly slamming into a wall in the process.

After a spirited chase that lasted over five minutes (along with lots of shouts of “get him, Omega!” and jumping off balconies and general taunting), the group was promptly escorted out of the mall without a chance to enjoy the store they’d started the ‘fight’ over in the first place.

Rouge watched her two friends sulk for a minute before smirking suddenly. 

“Guess what?” she asked, stepping back to look at both of them.

When she had their attention, she pulled out a nice new summer outfit with a laugh…from that same place.

“You didn’t.” Shadow said, staring at the clothing.

“OH, SHE DID.” 

Rouge then proceeded to pull both a cool hat in all gold and a nice blue bomber jacket out from behind her back as well, her smile widening even more. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you two at all. Or forgotten to pay, either.” she added quickly with a sigh. She soon shifted to watching with delight, though, as Shadow’s eyes widened considerably and Omega’s head whirled to fixate on her hand. 

“HAND IT OVER.” he ordered, holding out his clawed, metallic fingers insistently.

“Well...since you asked so rudely...no.” Rouge replied, before leaping into the sky with a grin.

“What?” Shadow gasped.

The robot’s eyes narrowed. “DON’T YOU DARE.”

Rouge flew higher at that. “Oh, but I do dare.” She wheeled around and began to fly off at top speed, snickering at the sound of indignant shouts behind her. Soon enough, she heard the swish-swish of Shadow’s skates and the clanking of Omega not far behind.

They might be able to catch her eventually, she mused, soaring through a gap between buildings- she wasn’t that fast, really. It wouldn’t be easy for them at all, though. 

After all, Rouge was just as powerful as they were, in her own way.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hiii! I don't know if your requests are open. But i would still like to request one. I would a knb one where the gom+kagami gfs wore a skirt(which shrunk during washing and had no choice but to wear it) and every time they bent, their patience are tested until they couldn't take it anymore. Their s/o completed obvious to the attention they are getting from others.

GOM Boys + Kagami and Short Skirt Reader (f!reader)

Akashi

“[Y/N]-chan, lets go in here.” You pause in your walk with Akashi around town, spending the lovely outside, in front of a pose looking clothing store.

“Here? Why?”

“I thought you might like to buy something in here.” He replied with a soft smile.

“Oh...Akashi-kun...I don’t know. It looks awfully expensive.”

“It’s my treat.” He countered. The corners of his soft smile becoming strained. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“I appreciate it Akashi-kun, but I couldn’t let you do that. Spending money on me like that would make me feel uncomfortable.”

“[Y/N] please.” Now not only were the corners of his mouth strained, but his voice as well. “I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible but, you’re skirt is too short.” You blink at Akashi. Not expecting that, nor did you really think your skirt was that short. Sure you’d had it since middle school but... “It’s incredibly distracting, and not just for me.” His mouth scrunched in an unflattering frown before it softened again. Those beautiful crimson eyes darting to the left, sending a pack of boys running off. “So please, let me buy you a new skirt or outfit. You look beautiful in anything, so you don’t need a short skirt like that to get my attention.”

That hadn’t been your intention in wearing the skirt today and you blush. “Well....ok.” It was always really hard to argue with him.

Akashi bought you a new outfit in the store; you dare not look at the price tags. You continue on your date hand in hand. Your skirt you had thrown in the shopping bag after changing mysteriously vanishing when you got home.

Aomine

The bell for second period ending chimed, and was soon drowned out by the sound of students shuffling through the halls. You were about to join them to your next class when Ryo asked if you’d seen Aomine. He wasn’t in class, apparently, and he took it upon himself to collect his teammate’s assignments to pass them on to him.

Such a nice guy.

You look towards the window, where the sun was shinning brightly, and sighed. “I’ll give them to him.” You knew exactly where he was.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you of course find Aomine there. Stretched out like a cat in the warm sun, dozing the day away in the fresh air. 

“Honestly Aomine, you couldn’t even make it to second period?”

The tall, tan basketball star opened his eyes slowly from his cat nap and grinned at you. "What up with your skirt?”

Your cheeks turn red and you tried to futilely pull the front down. “I-I-It shrunk in the wash! The school was supposed to get me a new one but they didn’t have my size!”

“Nah. Keep it. I like this one much better.” His grin grew wider. “Did you wear those blue panties just for me today? Since it’s my favorite color?”

Your blush deepened and your growled at your boyfriend. You swing your arm to swat at his propped up knee but he caught your wrist and pulled you down. Forcing you to fall haphazardly on top of him; just like he planned.

“A-Aomine! Q-Quit it!”

“Nope. No can do.” He replied. His hand on your thigh. “I held out as long as I could. You can’t expect me not to react when you wear your battle panties in front of me.”

Needless to say, neither of you made it to third period.

Kagami

Another lively afternoon at Serin basketball practice. You were sitting on the bleachers, watching your friends and boyfriend, play 2-on-2 games around the court for training. You would cheer Kagami and some of the others on. Doing your part to motivate the team as your way to show support.

Riko finally blew her whistle to call for a break and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“H-H-Here!” You look put at Kagami when he came up to you, cheeks flushed, holding out his warm up jacket. “Put it on!”

“I...uh..thanks Kagami-kun. But I’m not cold.” You assume that why he gave it to you.

“It’s not that! Just put it on! Don’t worry. It’s not dirty or anything.”

“Um...ok. But why?” 

“Don’t worry about it!” He snapped. “Just put it on!”

You frown and grumble a little, before you demand, “no. Not until you tell me why.”

Kagami grumbled himself and looked away. “....your skirt....” He said it so quietly that you have to give a little ‘hn?’ and he repeated, “your skirt. It keeps riding up when you cheer. I can’t practice right.....”

You blink in confusion, then blush. You hadn’t thought about your skirt coming up when you cheered. Now you felt embarrassed.

You took his jacket and put it on. Obviously swimming in it with your boyfriend’s large frame, which was good for once because it fell past your skirt for coverage. “Is this better Kagami-kun?”

The red head’s eyes went a little wide, and his cheeks darked to almost the shade of his hair. “N-N-No!” He exclaimed, taking you by surprise, before he looked away and scratched his head. “Now you look even cuter......”

Kise

“It was so nice of manager-san to give me this skirt. I can’t believe I own something from a designer now!”

Kise grumbled beside you as you left his photoshoot. His hand attached to yours squeezing it tighter as you walked. “Kise-kun? Is something wrong?”

The blonde seemed to realize that he was frowning, and quickly bounced back to his jovial self. “What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong [Y/N]-cchi. Just tired I guess.” You give a suspicious hum at Kise. Knowing that when he did 180s like this that something really was wrong.

“Kise, you know you can tell me anything. If something wrong, just tell me.”

“It’s....your skirt.” He finally confessed. Looking slightly to the left, away from you. “I’m all for fashion, and it was really nice of manager-san to give it to you, but....it’s too short. And I didn’t want to say anything because I sound like a cranky old man, but it’s true! [Y/N]-cchi’s perfect legs are only for me! I don’t want anyone else to see them!”

You snicker at Kise’s outburst. He could really be so silly sometimes.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, then why didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t want to insult manager-san.” He told you. “He’s helped a lot with my career. And he really was being so nice to you. Plus, green is not my color.” Meaning he was jealous.

You giggle again and lean up to give him a kiss. “Lets head back to my place then and I’ll take it off. I’ll put on something more ‘appropriate’ for you.”

“Or....maybe don’t.” His hand squeezed yours again, only this time his face held on to a bright grin when he looked at you.

“We’ll see.”

Kuroko

You fiddle with the charm on your phone as you head down the street, leaving your apartment to go meet Kuroko.

He was supposed to meet you at your house, but when you didn't see him outside you just assumed that he got mixed up and went to the bookstore you had been planning to go to instead. Boys could be so spacey sometimes.

"Short," you jump a little at the sound behind you, seeing Kuroko there. "Your skirt is short."

"K-Kuroko-kun! Don't scare me like that! Wait....what?" It took you a minute to process what Kuroko was saying, being startled like that. "My skirt is too short?"

"Yes." Kuroko replied in his normal, soft tone, with a little nod. "It's too short."

You grumble a little and stamp your foot. "Who are you to tell me my skirt is too short??"

"No one I guess. But, I'm your boyfriend." He said. As if you needed to be reminded. "And I don't like other people staring at you, [Y/N]-kun." You blink once back at him. You hadn't noticed anyone staring. Nor had you noticed the slight tightening in Kuroko's fist until now. "It's why I've been following behind you for a while now. To keep your butt safe."

You let out a startled squeal and swat Kuroko in the arm as your cheeks turn red. "D-Don't say stuff like that!" You scold while he rubbed his arm. But...maybe he was right. Maybe it was too short. "Fine. Follow me home and I'll go change."

"Right behind you." Kuroko said with a smirk as he came along.

Midorima

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’ You repeated over and over in your mind as you sprinted in a mad dash towards school.

You alarm hadn’t gone off, and it was honestly a miracle you had woken up even remotely close to the time with just enough time to make it out the door in a panic. If you some how made it to school on time you would never forget to set your alarm again!!

Cresting the hill, you see the gates to the school coming into view. And, more importantly, Midorima standing there. He was always on time, so he must have been waiting for you. Your heart swelled at the thought of it, and it gave you the extra boost to run fast towards him.

“Midorima-kun!”

“Don’t shout. In any case why are you so -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!?!”

You come to an abrupt halt in front of your boyfriend. Not expecting that response when you got close to him. “W-What? My uniform?”

“That’s not your uniform! That skirt is too short!”

You look down and turn about as red as Midorima was as you realize the skirt you had pulled out of your closet was your middle school uniform skirt. Not your high school one. They looked close enough in color you hadn’t noticed, and thought the ‘breeze’ was from you running. Could this day get any worse!!

There was movement out of the corner of your eye and you look up from your moping to see a field of green being offered to you. “The Oha Asa is never wrong.”

“M-Midorima-kun.....” You feel like you’re about to cry as you take the scarf and wrap it around your waist. This would do, for now. At least until you could get to your gym locker after first period.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for class.”

You smile at Midorima and fall in beside him as you head to class. Spirts lifted. Maybe you should listen to the Oha Asa more too.

Murasakibara

"What is the process called when an animal reproduces with itself? Is it A) Biomorphic reproduction? B) Symbiotic reproduction? Or C) Asexual reproduction? ....Mura-kun....? Mura-kun? Are you even listening to me?!"

"Ccccccaaaannnn'ttt...." Murasakibara whined from his place across from you at the table. Looking rather comical scrunched up like that.

"Jeez Mura-kun. I offer to help you study. The least you can do is pay attention."

"Ehh.... I can't. [Y/N]-chin is trying to seduce me."

"W-What??"

The towering teen smirked before he licked the potato chip salt off his fingers, then tugged at the hem of your skirt. "[Y/N]-chin's legs look like tasty mochi. I can't resist."

Your cheeks turn pink and you bat his hand away before returning to your book. "Y-Your...You're not going to get out of this so easy Murasakibara-kun! You need to study!"

Murasakibara frowned with a low hum of disappointment before retuning to his potato chips. "I'd rather have mochi......"

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy jack tubbo and george

requested yes/no

part 5 of the great adventures series

summary: training for the military

warning: cursing

AN: really sorry about this tumblr won’t let me change/add paragraphs so could look very weird

the journey there was quick for you, you spent the trip asleep in the back of the car whilst the others were discussing what you were all about to do “How difficult do you think it’s going to be” “dude it’s a military assault course” you woke up halfway there to the noise of the radio playing “afternoon y/n”“afternoon sorry I fell asleep I’m not used to being woken up early in the morning, I blame you guys and ranboo”“y/n have you ever wanted to join the military” “I can't say I have no” “well you’re going to love what we’re doing” “what are we doing” “you’ll see!”

you stood picking up more rocks and handing them to tubbo whilst Tommy and George began to film the introduction to the vlog “were in the jungle” confused you turned to tubbo “psst tubbo what the fuck are we doing, why are we in a woods” before tubbo had time to answer Tommy already began to answer your question telling you that you’re all training for the military, not taking him seriously you started laughing as you all were walking it was only when you were handed a jumpsuit to cover your clothes you realised it wasn’t a joke, you would be lying if you said you were ready for this, after all, you spent your free time playing Minecraft you wasn’t exactly great at sports

you managed to put the jumpsuit on pretty quickly unlike Tommy who was quite clearly struggling to get it on over his trainers “come on sergeant simons were doing a military assault course and you’re struggling to put on the clothes”after struggling to put clothes on the five of you stood together getting photos whilst you all looked decent “me and my boys in the jungle” “This isn’t going to go well” “we’re going to destroy it” “NO”

you hadn’t even reached the course yet and you were already tripping up over rocks and sticks that were on the muddy trail “we’re walking to our deaths..y/n is already falling over” “Hey I didn’t sign up to do exercise” once you finally reached the start of the course you were met with a canon, a dog and a man in a yellow jumper you stood as a team listening to what you were about to do and how you were actually a team of six, you hoped he meant the dog was a team member but no turns out the canon was the sixth member

“We have to take the canon with us” “...and take it apart into six pieces at each obstacle and rebuild it ” you handed your phone to the Russ, not trusting yourself to keep it on you especially since you were already tripping up before reaching the assault course “thank you” “good luck” “huh” you didn’t have time to process what was said as Mr military began counting down from three, the five of you ran to the first obstacle tubbo dragging the canon Tommy climbed over the net first with tubbo following after “What happens if I fall” it was as though you and tubbo had read each other’s mind as you both responded with “you’ll die” “death” you climbed over next with a wheel “reckon I can slide down the net” “that will hurt y/n don’t do- and you’re already doing it” you slid down the net despite George telling you not to do so, it didn’t take too long for the others to get over, you all began reassembling the canon “can we talk about our feelings” “I feel like shit I jumped out of a plane not long ago now I feel like I’m doing PE all over again” “Y/N JUST HELP BUILD THE CANON” “I'M TRYING ODDLY ENOUGH I'M NOT BUILT FOR THE MILITARY”once the canon was built Tommy and tubbo ran off with it “who’s going to tell them we need to test it” once Mr military shouted they ran back “why do we have to do this” “it’s the fucking rules Tommy and life is full of them” “like taxes” “tax fraud” a few seconds later the five of you yelled “bang” neither of you saying it at the same time “it didn’t work” “yes it did now come on”

you all ran towards the next obstacle, a giant wall. you all quickly dismantled the canon, Tommy went over first and began bickering with Mr military about him not being his dad whilst you tubbo and jack struggled to pass over the heaviest part of the canon “lift and lift” “really George? I thought we could just throw it over and hope he catches it” “Please don’t do that” “I am very sorry George but I'm struggling here” you continued your struggling tubbo tried to help Tommy through his words “you’re strong bossman I believe in you” “by the way, you really picked the shortest people to do this” part of the canon landed with a thud “welp hope he’s not dead” you climbed over next again carrying the wheel “he’s not dead guys don’t worry” you laughed as George took his time getting over the wall “I'm poving” “GET OVER THE WALL” you all stood questioning what time you were on completely forgetting that you were supposed to reassemble the canon “This is going to be embarrassing” “you guys could be rebuilding the canon” you could have built and tested the canon quickly however Tommy George and tubbo began telling people to subscribe whilst you built the canon with jack “we’re so good at this” “heh maybe not” you all test-fired the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

you were sent to go over the rope first, this was extremely difficult for you, the rope kept swaying as you walked causing you to lose your balance on multiple occasions “step on the V” “I’m going to fall” you made it over after a couple of minutes, like tubbo you also felt a bit ill, you assumed it was because it was quite hot and a lot was going on “how you feeling y/n” “Honestly, I’m jealous of ranboo, he’s at home living his best life and I’m in the middle of the woods overheating and climbing but no it’s pretty funny watching the others” you laughed as you overheard tubbo talking about how they’re only three obstacles in and how he’s going to die “YOU GOT THIS TUBBO!” Tommy crossed next, like you, he took his time he was then followed by tubbo who was trying to speed run walking over the rope you waited for jack and George cheering them on whilst Tommy was asking around for water and complaining about wearing a gamer hoodie. at this point, everyone seemed unmotivated “3 2 1.. bang”

“oh lovely..tires” tubbo went through first with the heaviest part of the canon “ill help you tubbo” you following behind helping him carry it due to it being stupidly heavily “so how are you tubbo” “AAAAAAAAAAA” “aye me too bud” you and tubbo decided that from now you two were going to work as a pair so it would be easier for you both, over the past few weeks tubbo became one of your closest friends the pair of you even started trending on Twitter as you did an irl stream where you both went on a walk at the beach and met several fans. whilst you and tubbo were making your way through Tommy jack and George we’re trying to figure out who should take what. “there’s piss in this one” “what the fuck?!” the pair of you finally got out from the tires “good job you two” “thank you” you rested your head on tubbos shoulder trying to get your breath back “I don’t think I’m made for the military” a few moments later Tommy made it to the tire full of water and put his finger in it “PEE” “Tommy why-” you stood looking around at the scenery, the sound of Tommy yelling about crawling away from George and that he’s ‘touched the piss’ was enough the drag you away from your own thoughts, you watched the others struggling to get through the tires and was amazed at the fact tubbo went back in to help them. you tried to ignore Tommy and George being dramatic as you tried to figure out how many more obstacles you had to go but you got distracted by George “ill just eat you if you die” “Mr military I’d like some help right about now” you walked over to Tommy and helped him get out of the tires “thanks y/n” “welcome” “how you doing bossman you know I pulled through your part...what are you doing that’s George's water” Tommy decided to throw the bottle to you so you could have a drink as he remembered you’d not had a drink since you landed from jumping out of the plane “Thanks, Tommy” “YOU BOTH DRANK GEORGES WATER” “he can drink the piss” “what Tommy said” you laughed as you walked over to where jack was in the tires “ HI JACK” “Jesus christ you scared me, hi y/n” you stood waiting for everyone to finish “I know exactly what the slowest time was” “we’re going for a new record it’s fine” “of being the slowest?” “yeah” “you know what Mr military ill clart you” “you’ll what me” “I’m gonna just go over here” you walked over to where parts of the canon were and got ready to assemble it again whilst George began throwing water over jack and tubbo to bless them then did the same to Tommy, you hid behind a tree thinking he wouldn’t notice you, however, he did and within a minute you too had water poured on you “Thanks, I was thirsty” “oh we know” “The fuck is that supposed to mean” “HELP BUILD THE CANON PLEASE” like last time you all built the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle

“can we just you know drag the already built canon under there with us” “absolutely not” “I tried” you all disassembled it again and like last time you and tubbo went first crawling under “I don’t want to alarm you all but it is soaking wet in here” “delightful” a few moments later you were both working well “tubbo I’m scared of the dark and it’s pitch black” “you’ve got this bossman we’re almost done” you calmed down quickly until Tommy decided to jump above the pair of you

“SORRY” “TOMMY I SWEAR TO GOD” “YOU DICK” you laughed slightly and tubbo checked up on you “you okay?” “I'm fine if you’re fine” “come on let’s finish this thing” the pair of you continued and finished relatively quickly tubbo got out first “NEVER AGAIN” “Sorry about that buddy” “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU” you helped push part of the canon out so tubbo could easily drag it out he then reached out so you could hold his hand and help pull you out “I've never been so happy to see the light” the pair of you sat on the floor waiting for the others to finish, you both made a bet on who was going to laugh first somehow you won as tubbo laughed at George and jack struggling to crawl through “YOU LAUGHED” “OH SHITTT” Russ came over to you both whilst recording so he could ask about how everything’s going “I’m covered in mud and the jumpsuit is wet, it isn’t a good day for the y/n community it was dark as hell in there “Tommy is a dick and tried to kill me and y/n” “I DIDN'T TRY TO KILL YOU BOTH” “I think he heard us” “WE ALL DID WERE NOT DEAF” “NO, BUT ACCORDING TO INSTAGRAM YOU'RE DEAD” you stared directly into the camera “sometimes it’s like I still hear jack talking to me” George and jack started complaining about how much further the is to go and how it was dirty and Tommy's response about being sorry it doesn’t fit their tory lifestyle made you burst out laughing “YOU LAUGHED” “tubbo my beloved you laughed ages ago you’ve already lost” “But we’re equal now” “no” the pair of you stood bickering to the point you didn’t realise the others had finished the obstacle and were shouting for you to test the canon “Y/N TUBBO WE NEED TO TEST THE CANON” the pair of you ran over “3 2 1 BANG”

“just going to warn you all you see that black cloud over there” “oh yay a storm is coming” you grabbed a wheel and followed behind jack across the wooden bridge “y/n he’s been splintered” “oh no poor George” “these are my gaming fingers” “no gaming for you I guess” “Stop talking about gaming dickheads” you spent a lot of time talking to George and jack whilst crossing over trying not to fall over you all even made a few plans to stream a laugh and the stream ends on jacks channel soon

you were all building the canon again whilst being informed you weren’t even halfway through and already 40 minutes in “high score” “well it’s definitely high” “Y/N??” “coming tubbo hang on my shoelace came undone” after tying your shoelace you grabbed a wheel and caught up to tubbo “if you go over tubbo ill pass it over to you and we can keep doing that” this method worked well for you both tubbo would climb over you would pass the wheel and middle part of the canon then climb over and repeat the process you heard Tommy in the background complaining about the fact he’s wearing jeans and jacks response “Yeah but I’m wearing jeans” “tubbo and y/n are almost done and you’re complaining about jeans” “jean boy pops off” “I'M WEARING JEANS AS WELL QUIT COMPLAINING” “Can we just go home and play smash bros” “Tommy this was your idea I didn’t even get on an option” “Sorry about that y/n but you get to spend time with me and gogy” “lucky me” you weren’t going to lie this was hard work and you were exhausted you felt like you could just fall asleep right where you were stood however tubbo wasn’t going to let that happen “I’m never going on an adventure with Tommy again” “me either” this of course was bullshit and you were both going on another adventure soon you stood watching your friends struggle to get over the obstacles you decided to offer your support and went to help jack and George using a similar method to that you used with tubbo “thanks y/n” “anytime” “y/n you could have helped me, tubbo pulled me over I could have been injured” “very sorry to hear that sergeant simons sucks to suck I guess” you all reassembled the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle “I hate it here” “there’s a storm on the way” “Thanks, y/n for the input” “welcome George” you all noticed the net luckily you didn’t have to disassemble the canon this very well could be because you were running far behind and a storm was on its way. you watched as the others went through and joked about tubbo losing his shoe and Tommy getting stuck, this obstacle wasn’t made for you either as you kept getting caught on the net “I'VE BEEN CAUGHT AGAIN” jack lifted the net for you again so you could easily crawl through “thank you jack” you all then made it to the next obstacle Tommy crawled on the metal bars with you following after him whilst George used the monkey bars once you all made it across you had to walk across many metal planks used to form a bridge Tommy walked close behind you knowing you were extremely clumsy and didn't want you to fall “irl nettles” “The fuck are you on about Tommy I don’t think you’re following my advice about going outside” you all dissembled the canon as you got to the tires the only difference this time was you needed to climb over them “it’s rather windy” “there’s dirt in my eye” like before you and tubbo used the same method “look at them go” “I LIKE A DA BEE” “I'M SCARED OF BEES” “oh okay” “Why do they keep taking the plank” “I don’t know tubbo just takes it and y/n follows” you both finished rather quickly and neither of you got injured or fell “really good job you two” “thank you Mr military” you stood leaning on tubbo watching George pick up random rocks and put them into his pocket similar to what you had been doing the entire way around the course “I don’t think George or y/n have been outside before they keep picking things up like souvenirs” “Y/N GEORGE HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE RAIN BEFORE” both of you just stared at Tommy making him laugh you helped the others get across the tires and even helped prevent Tommy from falling a couple of times. unfortunately, you ended up twisting your ankle but tried to ignore it not wanting to ruin the vlog for anyone, not that you would have, however it was clear you were in pain as you had started limping. one at a time you all crossed the rope “This is me climbing I am climbing” you cheered everybody on and then it was your turn

unlike the others the rope kept shaking as you walked across mainly because you were scared of falling and in pain all whilst trying to rush, this was clearly your least favourite obstacle of the day “take your time y/n don’t fall” “thank you jack I'm trying my best I promise” once at the end of the rope, Tommy took the wheel off you and helped you get down and pulled you into a quick side hug “you’re doing great let’s go we’re almost done” you knew your friends wouldn’t make you continue if you really didn’t want to however you were nearly finished and was determined to finish. you all reassembled the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

“there’s no way we’re getting through that without twanging a rope” “good luck” you and tubbo made your way through the ropes trying not to hit them, this proved to be a pretty impossible task and you ended up twanging the ropes several times, this mixed with everyone else’s failure to cross without hitting the rope meant you all had to do 20 push-ups, after reassembling the canon twice as you all didn’t do it correctly the first time and testing it you all had to do the push-ups “I’m sure y/n and George only did 3” “sorry bossman”

you all were finally making your way to the last obstacle determined to finish “Big Russ can we go to McDonald's after this” “sure” the five of you cheered and ran the last obstacle quickly disassembling the canon, you led the way over the obstacle tubbo Tommy jack and George following behind you, despite tubbo losing his shoe and George going backwards the five of you quickly completed the obstacle and reassembled and tested the canon running over to the finishing line

you all finally completed it and waited for your result “45 minutes easily” “1 hour 11 minutes and 46 seconds” “no way that’s a world record” “well we tried” the five of you stood telling people to subscribe before ending the recording and making your way back to the car

the car ride back felt a lot longer than the way there. you were all exhausted

“how’s your ankle” “it’s not too bad it’ll probably hurt more tomorrow morning”

“I'm still not over Tommy trying to kill me and tubbo” “I didn’t try to kill you” “sure” the rest of the journey was chaos you all screamed along to the songs on the radio eventually you all got to McDonald's and spent the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company.

taglist

@l0ver0fj0y @c1loudee

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Flufftober - Day 2

2 - Sneaking Out Together

@prompts-in-a-barrel prompt in bold. Written for @flufftober2021 's event.

Pairing: Loki x Stark!reader

Tags: fluff, fluff FLUFFFFFFF (this is flufftober, of course there’ll be fluff). A tiny tiny bit of angst in the beginning (if you really squint) and maybe… maybe some father issues as well. I’m not discussing this with my therapist.

Word count: 1,2K

A/N: Listen. There isn’t an actual “sneaking out” because technically it isn’t. But it’s the most similar thing it could be, and honestly I like how it ended up.

Gif not mine.

“There was only one rule you had to follow”, started Tony Stark, in front of fucking everyone. The whole team was in there, and you wanted to bury your face in your arms, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because if there was one thing you’d never lose, it was your dignity. So, you sat right, with your eyes directly on your father’s as he kept going on how bad it was what you had just done. “Just one rule about dating. What have I told you?”.

“Don’t get in trouble”, you repeated, the phrase already memorized. “You know, I don’t see what the big deal is about. I never got in trouble, and I’m not a little kid anymore, you can’t actually control my dating life”.

“As long as you live under my roof, you can’t date criminals. No, wait. As long as you’re an Avenger, for moral stuff, you can’t date criminals”.

“Firstly, he’s not a criminal. Secondly, I only live with you because I’m an Avenger. Thirdly, we’re not dating”.

“Are we not?”, inquired Loki from the doorframe. You shot a panicked look over him, and calmed yourself down as you saw his teaseful smirk showing across his face.

“Can we talk alone?”, you asked, and Tony and you walked out of the room to talk in the corridor. “I just… I just want you to support me, dad. That’s all I ever wanted”, you said, lowering your voice and head, knowing all of your confidence had faded away as soon as he looked at you with that disappointed look he’s always looked at you with.

“I can support you in many things, dear. I really do. I love your work in the science projects you’re doing… and your new friends are great, and I know how hard it is for you to socialize”, you sighed, and looked at him knowingly, because if your relationship could be described in a phrase, it definitely was “not the point I’m trying to make”.

“But?”.

“But how can I support you when you’re making a huge mistake?”.

You sighed in frustration and wiped a tear away.

“If you think being around him is a mistake then why did you even let him in the team to begin with? Why didn’t you just refuse Thor's demand of keeping him here? You know me, you knew I’d get attached”.

“So, you’re admitting you’re dating?”.

“Yes, we are something. Maybe not dating. I don’t know what we are”.

“Oh, what a great way to tell me you’re fucking. Great, nice. I love to hear that my little…”.

“No, not your ‘little-something’, dad. I’m an adult now. So take it or leave it. This is what’s happening, and whether you like it or not, Loki is actually really nice to me. He’s a gentleman, he treats me right, he’s all the Prince Charming you’d think an actual prince is”.

“Just… do me a favor and don’t lie for him, would you? He’s got that much already on him”.

“I’m not lying”, you looked at him defiantly, yet with that tenderness he always saw in you, even as a little kid.

Tony sighed, knowing you were honest.

“Please, don’t let him take your goodness away”.

That same night you couldn’t sleep. You rolled around in your bedsheets, grasping to them for your dearest dreams, but anxiety won, once again. You thought of your studies, your homework, your grades. You thought of your father and your dating life. You thought of Loki. You thought of him way too often. You knew —you were sure— you had fallen irremediably in love with him.

Who wouldn’t? He truly was prince charming.

Speaking of which, you heard a soft knocking at your window. You got up from bed and covered yourself up with a blanket, walking to see who was calling you at such late hours of the night.

The moonrays shone brightly and they were the only way you could see around; otherwise, it would be only darkness. Nights were better now, and Loki was in there, waving hello with that big smile of his, looking up at you as if he were Romeo. He truly was.

You smiled back and opened your window, looking around for any sign of your parents or Jarvis’s cameras being a bitch, and when there wasn’t any, you finally rested your elbows on your window frame and gave him the dreamy eyes he loved to be stared at with.

“My little love?”, he called in a whisper, yet you could still hear it.

“Dear”, you called him back. “Why are you awake?”.

“I can’t sleep without you”, he said, and you smiled involuntarily. Maybe your feelings weren’t so out of place after all. Maybe he felt the same way, and the only thing in your way was your dad and his prejudices.

“Really?”, you laughed softly, and he laughed too.

“Why are you awake, pray tell?”.

“Thoughts”.

“Of what?”.

“Of who, you may say”, you said, and he raised his eyebrows, wondering. “Of you, of course. And of my school books, that’s for sure”.

“Love and anxiety, all in one big package”, he said, and you rested your head over the heels of your hand. Did you just admit your love for him? And did he take it well? “I think it’s only fair for me to invite you to the library. The one from the compound is open at any time, right?”.

“Is this a study date at 4am?”.

“Darling, your idea of romanticism is so nerdy”, he laughed. “But if you may call it a date, then I’ll bring the candles”, he added, appearing a rose in his hand. “Shall I quote Shakespeare, too? Or is it enough for…?”.

“Well, no need to mock me, now”, you chuckled, while reaching for your clothes. “Meet you there?”.

“I’ll be there in a second, quite literally”, he said right before vanishing under a veil of green lights.

The night was spent with chattery over homework, with fun illusions he made in his hands, playing games and kissing —a lot. The night was spent so much, tiredness finally fell over you two, and before you could even realize, the sun had bathed both of your sleepy figures bent over the table, head resting over your arms. Loki was right in front of you and his legs intertwined with yours under the table. Books spread everywhere, you even used some as pillows. Not even once, you realized someone could walk in the library and let everyone know where you were last night.

And, as said, Tony and Pepper walked nonchalantly into the study area of the library, only to find you two sleeping over a pile of undone homework. You still had the rose behind your ear and a smile you wouldn’t be able to wipe off even awake. Pepper smiled and looked at Tony, who was staring in realization.

“They seem… good together”.

“You could even say happy? Good for each other?”, hinted Pepper, fighting back a giggle.

“Maybe… maybe they were right after all. I could give the guy a chance”, he nodded, rolling his eyes. “Now, let’s get those papers and close the curtains, they seem like they just fell asleep”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite )

[pascalpanic]

request please? lately i have been having a lot abandonment anxiety when it comes to friendships and i was wondering how you think javi or din might help someone with an anxious attachment style? thank you lovely 🥰

Irrational (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: above ^^

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language; talk of fighting and weapons, reader has a panic attack PLEASE be aware that it’s coming and somewhat descriptive.

A/N: I really really love this! I hope you guys do too :) as always, thanks to my beta reading babes!

Din Djarin has been abandoned before. Often on a mission, sometimes on a lone planet with no credits or ways out. He always survives, of course, and vengeance is taken. One thing he absolutely can’t fathom is abandoning someone he loves, or more specifically someone who loves him.

Abandonment isn’t an issue when you’ve never had someone to be attached to. Din spent many many years with absolutely no one. When his parents died, it felt like he was abandoned, sure, but it was clearly not their decision to leave him. When he was taken in by the Mandalorians, they kept him at an arm’s length. He was a foundling; they cared for him well, taught him The Way and The Creed, fed him well. But he was never adopted into a specific clan, rather passed around the covert like the communal task each family had an obligation to fulfill.

Then he became a bounty hunter. The life was solitary and lonely, cold and bleak. It was rare that Din would team up with other bounty hunters, really only when forced to. The Razor Crest became his baby, his only possession and love besides his blasters and beskar. The thing was a piece of bantha shit, but he kept it in good shape.

Then came the kid. Din knew it was wrong. Bounties are to be turned in and paid for, then you forget the job happened. But when that little green thing stared up at Din, the big brown eyes seeming to stare through the dark black of his visor, he knew he couldn’t. This was a child, a baby with no family and no way to protect itself. He certainly couldn’t turn it over to the hands of the ex-Imperials.

Din experienced his first real attachment with the child. He cares for that little thing more than he’s ever cared about anything. He’d cross galaxies, kill and maim and injure for the sake of the little green baby.

Oh Maker, then he met you.

Din had never seen anything like you. You were playing with the kids in the marketplace, laughing as they ran and played around you, before you squealed in delight at the sight of a little green toddler wandering up to you. He’d climbed in your lap, looked up at you with those big eyes, massive ears twitching. You’d stroked his head and cooed to him before you looked up to find his father; subsequently, you felt your heart fall into your stomach at the sight of the Mandalorian man.

“You’re good with kids.”

Well no shit. You nodded. “Yes. I love them. Is this your son?” you ask, looking back down at the three green fingers wrapped around your thumb.

He nods. “He is a foundling under my care.” He watched as the baby grabbed at the golden armband encircling your bicep. You’re absolutely gorgeous. The armband glows against your skin, your beautiful body evident even through the loose and flowing clothing you wear. “Do you take care of these children as a job?”

You shook your head. “No. We don’t have jobs here, necessarily. They just wanted me to play.” You scanned the man, searching for skin. You found none. “Are you green under there too?”

The Mandalorian did not answer. “I’m looking for a caretaker for the child while I hunt bounties. You’d stay in my ship and care for him. I pay well and you’d get to travel the galaxy.”

“You barely know me,” you laughed, removing the little green baby’s fingers from their tight grip on the gold band on your arm.

He gave a half shrug. “He likes you.”

And you’d agreed. And it’s been almost a full cycle now, a cycle of living in the beat-up ship and caring for the little green baby. You’ve seen the most beautiful and the ugliest of planets, experienced extreme heat and extreme cold. You’ve been to beautiful cities, unique jungles and forests and ice planets.

In that time, you got to know the Mandalorian too. It took quite some time to crack his beskar shell. He hardly talked to you in the first month. Then your persistence had loosened him a little, then a little more, then just enough. You know more of him than any other living being does. He’s told you his name: Din Djarin, a name that flows and stops and radiates the power of the bounty hunter. He told you the story of his childhood, of hunts gone wrong and hunts gone right.

You love listening as he tells you and the child the story of the child’s rescue from the ex-Imperials. The baby snuggles against your lap as his father regales the two of you with the epic battles, the fights Din went through for this little child. You both applaud at the end, and put the baby to bed with a kiss between those big brown eyes.

He’s a wonderful man. You’ve formed an easy friendship with him, one that has honestly progressed on your end. At night, you find yourself fantasizing about what he looks like beneath his armor, how the muscles of his broad shoulders move when he climbs the ladder to the cockpit or lifts the child. You like to think he may feel the same for you, but you don’t push it. You don’t want to push him away.

Din has been away for far too long. He always highballs the dates he gives you, saying that an assignment will take three days when he knows it will only take two or a week when it will only be five days. This is a pattern you’ve come to notice; Din is alway back “early”, but now he is late. Really late.

Before he left, Din had opened your bunk compartment, causing you to groan at the light filtering in. You’ve been sleeping since the Crest made a rocky landing on Nevarro a few hours earlier. “Cyare,” he’d murmured, a rare ungloved hand warm on your bare arm, contact broken by your metal armband. You don’t know what the word means. You hope it’s something good.

“What is it?” You groaned, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Leaving?”

He nodded, the silhouette of his helmet-covered head against the soft light of the hull. “Leaving. I’ll be back in four days at the most.”

You offered him a sleepy smile, one that he could see in the warm glow of the lights you’d installed in the ship to navigate easier at night. “Good luck. May the Force be with you,” you teased, making the normally stoic man chuckle a little.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t protest, rolling over and letting the heaviness of sleep drag you back under.

Now, you really wish you’d have talked with him more then. You’re almost certain you’ll never see him again.

You’re not exactly sure what it was in your brain that triggered the thought. Maybe Din just actually took the amount of time he’d said for once, you thought on the fourth day. But now it’s been eight days, double the amount that he’d told you he’d be gone, and you’re stressed.

He always makes good on his word. He should be back by now. He always does. Did he get injured or killed, maybe captured by the bounty he was stalking? You ponder your ideas aloud as you pace back and forth in the hull of the Razor Crest, the little green baby tucked in his soundproof pram to sleep.

There’s likely a rational explanation. You’re sure there is. Maybe the bounty jumped ship, completely threw Din off of his tracks. Maybe the bounty is more clever than anticipated and Din is working extra just to find them. There’s surely a reason, but a little nagging voice in your head says that something is wrong.

In the first few days following Din’s date to return, your primary worry is that he’s hurt or dead somewhere on this barren planet. There are many other bounty hunters here, in this haven for Guild workers. What if one of them discovered Din still has the baby? What if they were coming for you here next?

Maybe you should go look for him. Maybe he’s injured and needs your help. He could be held by another hunter, or by the ex-Imperials- you can’t even bear to think of them harming Din for taking their precious cargo back. The thought makes you squeeze the little green baby tighter to your chest, even after he gives a whine of annoyance at the pressure.

But Din would never forgive you if you put yourself in harm’s way for him. This planet is dangerous, full of bad people who will do what it takes to get their credits. Most importantly, you can’t leave this ship with the kid. Certainly people here are looking for him. Someone would spot him and you’d be in for disaster. The anxiety fills your days and even seeps into your dreams, making you sleep less and more fitfully. On the eighth day, perhaps the most terrifying idea strikes you: what if Din just... left you?

Of course, there are plenty of signs why he hasn’t. The ship is one of his rare material possessions. He’d never give up the machine that’s been a home to him for the last however many years. Weapons are part of his religion, and he only took a sparse amount with him for this hunt. His prized pulse rifle still hangs in his armory, with an abundance of whistling birds he didn’t take either.

Most importantly, you’re still here with the kid. The baby is practically Din’s son. He adores him… but what if it’s all too much? You’ve become like a little family. That may be too domestic for him. Maybe he’s sick of the responsibility, of caring for two beings when so much of his life has been solitary. Even worse, maybe he’s just sick of you.

There are plenty of rational explanations. You know it. The baby can sense your anxiety, can feel the tension running through the air surrounding you, and he feels it too. He’s fussy, requiring more snacks and more attention. He tugs far too much on your armband and it pinches now, his little claws getting too long. You don’t mind- it’s a distraction, really- but your mind is never fully on feeding the baby, rather hyper analyzing Din’s mind as you know it and hoping he’ll return.

The hours pass. Din doesn’t return. You become more and more certain that he’s abandoned you for good. He isn’t coming back, ever, because he hates you. He was nice to you as a courtesy, nothing more, only as a protector of his child. This type of family is too much for the lone-wolf style man. He can’t do it anymore. You’re on your own.

In your head, the thought of him abandoning you is too much. It weighs heavily on your self-esteem, convincing you that this is all your fault and you’ve done too much, or not enough, or something wrong in general that sent Din packing and gone. He did it because you’re annoying, because he’s sick of you.

Rational thoughts are pushed to the furthest corner of your mind. Your brain is occupied by self hatred, by terror, by a sickening buzzing feeling in your head and chest that feels like a parasite eating you from the inside out.

It’s too much. You fall to the floor, sliding your back down the metal wall. Your rear contacts the floor as the tears fall from your face, your emotions drowning out your senses. You can’t use any of your senses, just think and process the agony your brain is putting you through.

Burying your face in your hands, you finally allow the tears you’ve been holding in all week to flow. It’s a relief, the hot tears streaming down your equally hot face, blood rushing to the surface. The anxiety buzzing in your head has reached a breaking point; you’re sure the tension is boiling your brains, making it bubble and roil as the thoughts pull you down and down so far you feel you’ve fallen through the floor of the Crest and into the dry Nevarro dirt.

You nearly wail, wheezing in air only to expel it in harsh sobs as the fear wraps your body and constricts it. You’re enveloped by it, trapped in a coffin mixed with a tornado mixed with a firestorm and a hurricane.

Then it all stops. The heat is broken by something cold- beskar. You force your eyes to see and they finally perceive that Din is in front of you. Then you feel again, feel the chilled metal all over your skin as he wraps his arms around you. You smell him, his faded soap from whenever he bathed last, his sweat and the smell of the Nevarro dust. You can taste your salty tears. The last sense to come back puts you most at ease: his voice. “Talk to me, please,” Din asks of you.

You nod and try to speak, but you’re still gasping for air, your lungs unable to fill. When you slow down and make yourself breathe, you’re finally able to manage words. “Thought you were gone forever. Thought you left because of me.”

The beskar helmet tilts to the side, taking you in. You’re sure you’re a mess; eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, snot probably all over you as well. Din’s quiet for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“You said four days. You always come back early, but you were gone for eight days.”

His chest rises and falls slowly beneath the beskar plate. “I know. I’m sorry. But why would you think I’d leave you?”

The tears return. “I don’t know, Din, I-”

“No, shh,” Din murmurs and wipes your face. “No more tears. I’m here.”

Din stands and takes you with him, his arms wrapped tight around your body to bring you to your feet. He walks you to the edge of the bunk and hands you a canteen of water to drink. You look at him and he looks back. There’s a silence and an unspoken battle between the two of you over who will break it.

Din breaks first. “I got the bounty easily. I was late because of… something else.”

Your face falls into a frown. “You took double the amount of time and didn’t tell me? Whatever this ‘something else’ is, it better be worth it.”

Din breathes in and out deeply before producing a soft fabric bag. “I didn’t leave you. I’m back. And… I got you something to show that I’ll never leave you.”

From the bag, his leather-covered hand produces something silver. Your eyes, blurry with tears, take a moment to perceive it: an armband of some silver material- oh, it’s beskar. It’s cold to the touch but you take it from him to admire it and find it is emblazoned with an insignia: a mudhorn. “The symbol of Clan Djarin,” he says gently, though he’s sure you know. It’s on his pauldron. It’s on the baby’s necklace. “We… are a family, aren’t we?”

You don’t respond; rather, you throw your arms around his neck and the tears return, but happily. “We are,” you whimper, your throat constricted by a sob. You cry into his neck, staining the fabric of his cowl and cape with your tears.

He understands they’re good tears, and so he lets them flow. His arms wrap around you and rest on your back, gently rubbing it as you cry into him. As the sobs calm, the tears end, you remain in his arms. Din holds you tight against his chest. “I’ve never made a better decision than hiring you. It was supposed to just be a babysitting job, but… I fell in love.”

Your heart stops and you pull back. “You’re in love? With me?”

Din nods. “I… yes. I am.”

A smile crosses your face, the joy emphasized by how wide your smile is in the presence of your tears. “I love you too,” you manage before your throat squeezes off your words, making you cry happily and hug him yet again.

With your face buried in his neck, you nuzzle your face in and are rewarded with a soft patch of stubbled skin beneath the tip of your nose. You can feel his throat vibrate when he speaks again. “We are a clan of three now. I promise you, I will never leave you. Don’t even entertain the thought again. Understand?”

You nod, not wanting to move your face and lose contact with this intimate spot of him, the first humanness you’ve been able to get beneath the beskar. You kiss the skin there softly. Din knows it’s your answer: understood. I love you.

-

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[gammija]

The final Web!Martin evidence list

Now that canon is done, and we’ve got word of god confirmation that Web!Martin wasn’t complete nonsense, I decided to go back to my lil chronological evidence list and actually clean it up a bit, delete parts that in hindsight weren't all that indicative, and put everything in a slightly more readable format. (Obligatory disclaimer that i don’t and never did believe or advocate for some kind of evil web!martin, and that I'm not intending to connect a moral judgement to martin (or anyone else for that matter) having some of these traits)

So here: The (hopefully, please) final list with Web!Martin Evidence! Presented in order of importance, according to. me

The final (hopefully) Web!Martin evidence list

(In order from most to least obvious)

Spiders

I mean, it’s called the Web. TMA reiterates quite a few times that Martin liked spiders. Sometimes it IS that easy.

MAG022: Martin: "I like spiders. Big ones, at least. Y’know, y’know the ones you can see some fur on; I actually think they’re sort of cute -"

MAG038: | Sasha: "A spider?" Jon: "Yeah. I tried to kill it…" [...] Sasha: [Chuckles] "Well, I won’t tell Martin." Jon: "Oh, god. I don’t think I could stand another lecture on their importance to the ecosystem."

MAG059: Jon: "I have done my best to prevent Martin reading this statement in too much detail. I have no interest in having another argument about spiders."

MAG079: Jon: "Apparently, biologically, his account of the spiders doesn’t make any sense according to Martin."

MAG197: Martin: “What? Because I like spiders? Well, used to.”

Lies and subterfuge

Martin is able to use lying and subterfuge to achieve his goals, and is called manipulative a few times.

Lies:

MAG022: Martin: "[He] became slightly more co-operative after I lied to him and told him that one of the upstairs residents had buzzed me in."

MAG056: Martin: "I lied on my CV."

MAG158: Peter: “But you said –” Martin: “Honestly, I mostly just said what I thought you wanted to hear.”

MAG164: Jon: "You – I actually believed you!"

MAG189: Martin: “Sorry. Sorry, John. Not sure how much everything up there actually understood what was going on. But, y’know, I didn’t want to take any chances so it made sense to… um…” Jon: “Put on a show?” Martin: “Yeah, basically, more or less.”

MAG191: Martin: "That's not true." Arun: "Liar!"

Subterfuge:

The plan in 118, which revolved around convincing Elias that Martin was only “acting out”, to create a distraction for Melanie. (Also compare the way he evades giving a straight answer here with the way Annabelle talks in 196.)

Working with Peter in s4 under false pretenses, to distract him from Jon and eventually try to learn what Peter wanted.

Manipulation accusations:

These, I know, are somewhat contentious, since it’s mostly villains saying this to him. I’m still including them, since

1): From a media analysis standpoint, being mentioned 3 times is a sign to pay attention, even when it may not be the full truth.

2): I only see it as describing Martin’s behaviour in the previous points, not as a moral judgement; Especially since he almost always ‘manipulates’ people in positions of power over him.

Still, if it bothers anyone, feel free to ignore these.

MAG138: Martin: "That’s it? No, no monologue, no mind games? You love manipulating people!" Elias: "That makes two of us."

MAG186: Martin: “I can be a real manipulative prick, you know that?” Also Martin: “Oh yeah.”

MAG196: Annabelle: “Because you always managed to get what you wanted through smiles and shrugs and stammerings that weren’t nearly as awkward as they seemed.” [SMALL SOUND OF MARTIN’S CONCESSION TO THE POINT] Martin: “Point taken.”

The Lonely/the Web

The Lonely and the Web sometimes affect Martin to similar degrees.

In season 3, when Martin is getting used to reading statements for the first time, most of them leave him emotionally affected: MAG084, MAG088, MAG090,

MAG095: Martin: “S-S-Statement… done.” [HEAVY BREATHING & TREMBLING AS MARTIN STEADIES HIMSELF] “I don’t like recording these. There. I-I said it.”,

MAG098: Martin: [Panting] “End of statement.” [Deep breath] “I, um, I think I might need to sit down. Oh. Yeah, I am. Right. I don’t, uh, I’m not really sure if these are actually getting easier or harder. I mean I don’t feel –”

Only the last two statements he reads are remarkably easier. This might be a hint that Martin is just getting used to reading them, but the quote from MAG098 seems to contradict that. Either way, it’s likely not a coincidence that those last two happen to be the Lonely and the Web:

MAG108: Martin: “Statement ends.” (exhale) “That wasn’t so bad…”

MAG110: Martin: “Statement ends.” [...] “I mean, I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hm. Good John didn’t have to read this one, anyway. I know he’s not a fan. Although, this one wasn’t too bad, actually! I – yeah. Anyway.”

In season 5, there are two powers’ Domains that actually affected Martin mentally, as opposed to only physically: the Lonely’s, in 170 (and arguably 186), and, depending on your interpretation, in 172, when Martin went exploring without knowing why he did so.

Proximity

Martin investigates a lot of the Web statements during season 1 to 3 (in other words, when the archive team still researches statements). The only ones he isn’t mentioned in during this period are MAG019 and MAG020, when he’s being harrassed by worms, and MAG081, which Jon records by himself outside of the institute.

Most notably, he’s the one who discovered the statement in MAG114, ‘Cracked Foundations’, which is the one statement in the entire show that sets up the interdimensional properties of HTR.

The Web!Lighter passed through Martin's hands first, before he gave it to Jon.

Similarly, Annabelle mostly spoke to Martin in season 5, despite most other Avatars usually focusing on Jon.

Aesthetics

Apart from the above obviously Web related areas, there are some other aesthetics which are mentioned in connection to both the Web and Martin, throughout canon.

These are describing the Web;

These are describing Martin.

Tapes:

Martin is the only character to treat the tape recorders as friends - any other character is either indifferent, or treats them as enemies.

MAG039: Martin: "I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm."

MAG154 Martin: “Oh. Hi. Hello again.” … (small laugh) “Sorry pal, false alarm this time.”

MAG156 Martin: “Mm? Oh.” [HE LAUGHS, GENTLY.] “Yeah. (rustling paper) I was going to read one. Hate for you to miss it!” [SHORT, FORCED LAUGH, AS HE FLAPS THE STATEMENT AROUND.]

MAG170 Martin: “Oh. Oh, hello. What’s this? Wow, retro! What are you up to, little buddy; just – listening? That’s okay. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

MAG190 Jon: "[The tapes] seem to like [Martin]."

Retro:

MAG069: Statement: “I only saw Annabelle Cane once during this period. She wasn’t hard to pick out. She dressed like a vintage clothing store exploded on her, and her short bleach-blonde hair stood out sharply against dark skin.”

MAG160: Jon: “Anyways, don’t tell me the phonebox down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic.” Martin: “It – might. Maybe.”

MAG163: Annabelle/the Web callying Martin via an old payphone: [ A PHONE RINGS. IT’S NOT THE TINNY, ELECTRONIC SOUND OF A CELLPHONE – NO, THIS IS A TRUE, HEAVY, CLASSIC RING.] Martin: “Uh. John? Uh, J, John – the, uh, payphone that’s – here, for some reason – it’s ringing?”

Hatred of burns:

MAG067: Jack Barnabas’ statement: “I looked up and noticed within the corner of the room, where there had been a spider’s web this morning, there was just a faint wisp of smoke.” “Another held a bag that seemed to be full of candles, while a third had a clear plastic container filled with hundreds of tiny spiders.”

MAG139: Statement by member of Cult of the Lightless Flame: “The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand; all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.” Agnes burned down Hilltop Road.

MAG145: The Web ties Gertrude to Agnes, stopping the Desolation’s ritual (the only Power whose ritual the Web is known to have prevented).

MAG167: Gertrude enlists Agnes’/the Desolation’s help in order to burn her assistant Emma, who was Web aligned.

MAG169: Martin: "Look, I just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever. [...] I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!"

Phrasing:

MAG039: Martin: "I’m trapped here. It’s like I can’t… move on and the more I struggle, the more I’m stuck. [...] It's just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too. We all are, I think."

MAG079: Martin's poem: "The threads of people walking, living, lovi–"

MAG117: Martin: "This last couple of years, I’ve always been running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but, but now it’s my trap, and, well, I think it’ll work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but it felt good leaving my own little web. Oh, oh, Christ, I hope John doesn’t actually listen to these. “Good lord, is Martin becoming some sort of spider person?” No, John, it’s an expression, chill out! Besides, spiders are fine. I mean, yes, people are scared of them, obviously, but actual spiders, they just want to help you out with flies."

MAG167: Jon: “Methinks the Spider dost protest too much.” Martin: “Jon –” Jon: “Joking! Just joking.”

Personality:

How applicable these are depends heavily on how you interpret Martin's own personality, so your mileage may vary.

MAG008: Statement: “Nobody ever said a word against Raymond himself, though, who was by all accounts a kind and gentle soul [...]”

MAG123: Jon: "The Web does seem to have a preference for those who prefer not to assert themselves."

MAG147: Annabelles statement: "I discovered a deep and enduring talent inside myself for lying. [...] My manipulations were not intricate, but they were far beyond what was expected of a child my age, and I have always believed that the key to manipulating people is to ensure that they always under- or overestimate you. Never reveal your true abilities or plans."

Word of God and Annabelle

I kinda wanted to ‘prove’ that Web!Martin had quite a bit of evidence to back it up, hence this header being last. But of course, in this post-canon world, there are a few lines that most obviously confirm the theory:

MAG197: Martin is Web enough to be able to read the 'vibrations', like Annabelle, and see Jon and Basira (the latter being especially notable, as he hadn't known she was there beforehand): [CHITTERING, BUZZING AND HIGH-PITCHED SQUEALS CHANGE CADENCE] Martin: "Wait… Wait, hang on, is that him?" Annabelle: "Yes. I guess you’re better with the Web than we thought." Martin: "And – Wait, ha– No, uh… is that… Basira? He – He’s got Basira with him!" Annabelle: "Yes."

Season 5 Q&A part 2: Jonny: “Essentially, it was fascinating looking at the fandom and, like, the Web!Martin believers, because what they were doing was correctly picking up on hints dropped in the early seasons that were later, like, not exactly abandoned, but it was much more like, ‘Well, no, he does have like aspects of The Web to him, but he is moreover The Lonely.’ And that came about very… very organically, really. Because throughout Season 3 and going into Season 4, we had this conversation and we were like, ‘No, actually he's like-” Alex: “‘It can't be, it cannot be, it must be the other way round’ Yeah.”

(Note that they say “throughout season 3 and going into season 4,” which likely means that season 1, season 2, and at least part of season 3, aka half of the entire show, were written with Web!Martin as an intentional possibility.)

If you read all that, thanks so much! Obviously, Web!Martin never really came to fruition, so it's fine if you still don't like it. This is just a post explaining where it was coming from, at least for me and the other theorists I've spoken to.

[twh-news]

We spoke to Tom Hiddleston about Loki, PowerPoint presentations and the nature of free will

Despite a decade of playing Loki in several Marvel movies and now a TV show, Tom Hiddleston isn’t tired of the role. “There is always something new to be found,” he says The edge.

This week is the premiere of Loki on Disney Plus, a six-episode series that marks the character’s first lead role. It is a story of time travel and branched timelines as Loki is captured by an organization called the Time Variance Authority (TVA). It combines action, humor and some old-fashioned detective work, while tackling serious topics such as the nature of free will. There are also some new faces on board as Hiddleston is joined by Marvel newcomers Owen Wilson, who plays a TVA agent named Mobius, and director Kate Herron, best known for her work on the first season of Sex education.

Prior to the show’s premiere, I had the chance to talk to Hiddleston about his time as a character, a presentation that made him feel like an “amateur academic giving a thesis on Loki,” working with Wilson and Herron, and whether our lives are predetermined. Typical Marvel stuff.

The following interview has been edited and abbreviated for clarity.

We are now at a decade where you play Loki. How have your feelings about the character changed or grown over that time?

I’m honestly just thankful that I’m still here. I find that I am always surprised and happy that I get another chance in it. Long before I was cast, Loki was just the most fascinating and complex character with such depth and range, and he’s been in Marvel comics in several iterations for 60 years, and he’s been in our thoughts, in stories we tell as humans, for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I find that even though it has been 10 years, every time I come back, there is always more to discover. There is always more to dig because these impostors are kind of mercurial and shape-shifting. So there is always something new to be found.

"“Loki is out of control. He’s a man on the run.”"

Now that you’ve focused this six-episode series on Loki, what were you looking forward to exploring with this? What were you hoping to dive into?

I think he’s really opening up and bringing out his many different identities and facets. In my preparation to play the character, I’ve always seen him have so many different and seemingly contradictory characteristics. You think, “How can all these characteristics exist in one person, in one being?” And yet they do.

Loki has always been a character in all MCU movies that seems to be very controlled. He seems to know what cards he has in his hand and how he is going to play them. And Loki, in the TVA – this organization that rules time – has gotten out of hand. He’s a man on the run. And he is motivated by a desire to understand. Suddenly he discovers that there is all this information that he does not have, and he has to get his hands on it. And that actually gives the series great momentum. Loki is on the back foot, everyone knows more than him, and seeing how he adapts, seeing how he improvises after that – if improvisation is possible in the TVA. That’s a question we’re trying to raise, whether you have free will.

I read about the Loki school you led to prepare the team for the character’s history. How did you prepare for that? Did you actually know it all, or did you have to do a lot of research?

I wish it wouldn’t be 10 hours long. I knew I had to summarize what I found useful to tell the crew. It came about thanks to Kate Herron, our director who has done an extraordinary job on this whole series, and he thought maybe it would be a good idea to get everyone together because there were so many department heads, different crew members – production design, costume design, cinematography, camera, sound, stunts – and wanting to make sure everyone had the same information about Loki, and it might be helpful to listen to my experience. I was trying to explain how we constructed Loki’s arc across the six movies he’s in the MCU and figure out what was useful in that arc and what we could leave behind.

I suddenly felt extremely nervous, as if I were an amateur academic writing a thesis on Loki. You’ll have to ask the others if it was helpful at all. But at least we synchronized the watches and we started from the same place.

"“If I were tall enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.”"

So is there a PowerPoint file out there somewhere that will leak out one day?

If I was highly skilled enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.

I did have a few clips. I thought there were some clips from the movies that could be helpful. It was interesting, even though it was about how the costume had changed over the years and why. And when does Loki wear the horns? Are the horns a casual thing? Are they a ceremonial thing like a crown? Is it an extension of an inner intention? Do the horns come out if he’s particularly evil? Why is her hair different? Sometimes he wears a cape, sometimes not. Sometimes he uses magic, sometimes he uses his own body to fight in combat. All questions that people were curious about.

I know this was meant for the rest of the crew, but was it helpful for you to go through this again as you prepared to jump back into the role?

Oh yes, absolutely, just to refresh myself about certain decisions we had made and why certain things were changed… sometimes you try to bring very elaborate and beautifully illustrated comic book panels into a physical reality on a movie set and figure out how to merge these two worlds. It was interesting. I got some great questions about how he moves the way he does and where certain things showed up in stunts, especially hair, makeup and wardrobe, how the clothes changed and why we made those choices.

It was interesting to refresh myself on the extraordinary input, because I carry the inspiration of great people with me. [Thor director] Kenneth Branagh and Alexandra Byrne, our costume designer; Bo Welch who designed the first Thor movie; Charlie Wood who was production designer on The dark world; the whole crew of Ragnarok; Mayes Rubeo, the costume designer of Ragnarok; and people like Douglas Noe, who has been doing makeup on Loki for a long time. So there was a lot to unpack.

Both Kate Herron and Owen Wilson are newcomers to the Marvel machine. Is it helpful to have such an external perspective?

Absolutely. Both Kate and Owen came in with so many questions because they hadn’t lived in Loki’s head for 10 years. They have a fresh take on it. Kate was so well prepared and so well researched; she even brought in new Marvel Publishing material that I’d never seen before, about Loki’s inner world. Owen came in and asked me a lot of questions about my experience. I remember him saying, “Tom, why should I?” you do you like to play Loki?” And I found myself saying, “Well, he’s just got this whole range. He can play the light keys, but he can also play the heavy keys in the bass clef. And somehow the character has both.” And he loved that way of thinking about it, he said, “I think I could say that on the show.” And so it was really his very intelligent question that took us elsewhere in the story.

Given the themes of the first two episodes, I have to ask: do you believe in free will?

I hope so. Free will is such an interesting, eternal question. I think people have asked to what extent we have the power of self-determination, self-realization, choice about our actions and whether we can control the course of our lives. It goes back to evolutionary or psychological arguments about nature and nurture and why we are who we are. Maybe it’s the journey of a lifetime to find out, to really take the wheel of your own life. Because we are set on a path in childhood, I think, often by accident – the misfortune of birth, where we were born and when – and we are propelled in many ways by the unconscious.

That’s a complicated answer. It’s a complex question. So I hope so. I hope true free will is possible. But for all of us, I think it can be a long journey of self-discovery.

[shes-a-gryffindor]

I'll Stay With You

A bit of Angst, lots of fluff and a just a touch of smut 🤭

James looked frantically around, dodging the rubble exploding around him, flashes of red and green flew past his head as he tried desperately to find Lily. It must have been their hundredth raid by that point and yet they were no more prepared for the onslaught that had been waiting for them and even less for the Death Eaters - as they called themselves - to be waiting alongside Voldemort himself. Following her voice through the thick haze of the battle he was sure he’d find her being tortured or worse… until finally, too riddled with adrenaline to feel any relief, he found her mid duel, two against one, her face scrunched up in determination. Almost blind with rage, he shot at the cloaked figures curses a younger version of himself had probably once sworn against and even as they lay unconscious on the ground in front of him, the curses continued to explode from his wand, until Kingsley’s voice came, barely audible through the fight raging around them, ordering them all to retreat. Without thinking twice he pulled Lily closer, apparating straight back to the safety of headquarters.

Worse than the attack itself perhaps was the aftermath… Time seemed to move excruciatingly slowly in these moments when they could do nothing but wait anxiously for their friends to return, to see who else had managed to get away, thinking dreadfully of who might not have and whether they should go back.

Relief like an enormous tidal wave flooded through them at their friends’ safety; heavily outnumbered and surrounded on every front, it was by some miracle that they’d managed to get away with their lives. Despite their elation at everyone’s miraculous survival, on days like these and especially now, what James wanted more than anything else was Lily, and home. He’d never been very good at keeping a poker face and his body language always gave him away - the anxious tapping of his foot or the strum of his fingers at his side - at least that’s what Lily had always told him and it was perhaps for this reason that after sharing a knowing look with Sirius, she took James’s hand in her own, smiling ruefully at him before nodding slightly as if to say ‘let’s go.’

Landing with a crack in a quiet lane in Godric's Hollow, they made the short walk home in stony faced silence, their hands inconspicuously gripping their wands, James with an arm wrapped protectively around Lily, looking over his shoulder every so often.

The familiar smell of home seemed to ease some of the tension they’d been carrying since apparating from the fight; grateful to be out of the cold and within the safety of the cottages protective spells and enchantments, they closed the door behind them, shaking off their coats and kicking off their shoes they made for the kitchen; there was almost nothing a cup of tea couldn’t make even a little bit better and it had become something of a tradition that this was the first thing they did upon returning home from a particularly gruelling mission. Lily pottered about the kitchen in silence, making their tea - she found at times like this doing it the muggle way was almost cathartic. It wasn’t until they were both sitting in the nook, their hands cupped around mugs, that they finally spoke.

Lily could feel the tension radiating off of him, “That was too close… “ he said quietly, frowning down at his tea.

Knowing exactly where this was going, she sighed, “It could’ve been any one of us James…”

Scrunching up his eyes he shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of a particularly unpleasant thought, “yes but it wasn’t anyone, was it? It was you, There were two of them Lily, if I hadn’t found you in time-“

“But you did,” she reassured him. “James…” she continued, reaching out to place a hand over his, “it’s o-“

“Don’t say it’s okay” He interjected, standing so abruptly the loud scrape of his chair against the hardwood made her jump. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, jaw tense.

“Obviously none of this is okay,” she said, frowning up at him, “I only meant that we all made it back, I’m fine, we’re fine.”

He paced aimlessly around the kitchen before stopping to lean against a bench. Looking at her for a moment, he took a breath as if to brace himself, “If you would please just consider-“

“No” she cut him off coolly, “how many times do I have to tell you, I’m no less capable than I was before.”

“You’re a right side better than half the bloody Order on a bad day Lily, it’s not about-“

“We’ve spoken about this,” she said frustratedly, “I told you, I won’t sit on the sidelines while you all go out and risk your necks!” She was standing now too, “we made a commitment, I won’t back out,” she finished stubbornly.

“People will understand if we just tell-“

“Yes that’s exactly how I wanted to break the news,” she scowled, “hey everyone, oh, sorry can’t come along, I’m up the duff,” her tone dripped sarcasm, “besides it’s not about that! Do you honestly think I could stand it? Sitting here waiting for you every time, not knowing what’s going on?”

Throwing his head back he ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “I’ll stay with you,” he told her, looking utterly defeated. It was at this - his willingness to sit out with her at the expense of not fighting alongside his friends, a prospect so out of character for him - that she understood how genuinely desperate he was to protect her; the vulnerability in his expression, so misplaced in comparison to the usually confident, bordering on cocky, grin he often donned. James, so unyielding in his principles, found it incredibly hard to swallow that he was so utterly powerless over something he considered, however outdated Lily told him the concept was, his duty, the safety of his wife, his unborn child, his family. “Please,” he said thickly, “I’m no good to anyone like this… If something were to happen to you, or the baby…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering briefly down to Lily’s stomach, not far along enough for it to be obvious she was pregnant.

Softening a little in her resolve she sighed heavily, walking over to where he was standing to weave her arms over his shoulders and around his neck; looking up at him, her eyes darted back and forth between his own...“Do you honestly think you could stand it?” she said, quietly.

And he thought of his friends…she was right, he knew it.

“No,” he admitted despondently, “you’re right, I couldn’t.” Trying to repress the thought of what might have happened had he found her only minutes later, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer before burying his face at the crook of her neck.

“Imagine if I’d said yes,” she sniggered, “you’d have had to tell Sirius he might be paired up with Peter on missions from now on,” making him smile involuntarily against her neck; Pushing gently away from his embrace to look up at him again, she cupped his face, kissing him swiftly, “I’ll go and run a bath,” she said, before stalking out of the kitchen

He felt a small, irrational pang of anxiety as he watched her disappear into the hall, out of sight. Pouring their half finished tea down the drain, he dropped their mugs into the sink before trudging up the stairs, pulling his shirt up over his head as he went.

Along with his glasses, all fogged up and useless, their battle-worn clothes lay discarded in a heap on the bathroom floor, and steam rose curling up off of their skin, as they sat in the warm, soapy water. It was much easier to forget the dark thoughts that crept unwanted into his mind when he could focus instead on the weight of Lily’s body against his as she lay with her back against his chest, skin on skin… to think instead about how much he loved her hair this way, piled up into a messy knot, strands falling haphazardly out over her neck.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Much,” he responded, lowering his lips to press them gently against her shoulder.

“Mhm… thought you might,” she said, raking her fingers across his leg; he felt himself tense beneath her and she grinned with satisfaction at his reaction.

She was teasing him, his stomach lurched excitedly, this was a game they played often, one he enjoyed immensely. “You know,” he said, through a smirk, trailing kisses across her collarbone, “if we’re not careful, we’ll end up with our second baby before we’ve had our first.”

Chuckling softly, hands tracing higher still, she responded, “reckon we’ll have a whole quidditch team on our hands at this rate.”

“Reckon you’re right,” he grinned, now painfully aware of her hand on his leg and the way she was laying across him, she relished in his increasing impatience to have her closer still.

Sliding his arms around her waist he let his lips trail past her collarbone to her neck, grazing her ear, the barely stifled sigh that escaped her made him grin widely again.

“Okay,” she said, suddenly, her voice low.

“Okay what?” He responded, still peppering kisses up her neck.

“No more raids,” she responded.

He chuckled, “I’d have gotten you in the bath a lot earlier if I knew that’s all it’d ta-”, he tilted his head back to look at her, “… you’re serious?” He asked, brows furrowed, “what’s changed your mind?”

“Well...” she began with a sigh, “much as I don’t want to admit it, I have been feeling a little...off, lately, it’s hard stuff y’know, this growing another human,” making him laugh, “anyway,” she continued, “ I suppose it’s not just about me anymore…besides, can’t have you running ‘round after me like a lunatic… get yourself killed.” She rolled her eyes at James’s barely disguised glee, feeling like an immense weight was being lifted off his shoulders and sounding much more like his usual self he laughed heartily.

“I have conditions!” Lily quickly added.

“I’d have expected nothing less,” he said, through laughter, “go on.”

“I’ll still be at headquarters before and after every raid, and I’ll still continue to do all the other stuff I’m doing now, and if Voldemort shows up again you’re to apparate straight back, no questions asked.”

“Okay,” he said, still grinning.

“James, I’m serious…that’s three times we’ve crossed him now, and each time’s been an even closer shave than the last.”

“I know… understood,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her, “I promise.”

“So… we’re telling people then?” He asked, his grin widening to its full extent, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of finally being able to share with everyone the best news of his life.

She was laughing now too, “yes,” she said, twisting her neck to grin up at him, “we’re telling people.”

Her lips were only centimetres from his before he happily closed the gap, kissing her, both their mouths still tugging up at the corners, smiling against each other.

Any lingering anxiety from the events that had transpired earlier had now vanished and James was once again painfully aware of her body on his. Her fingers now dug at his neck and with a gradual intensity he could feel her need for him just as intensely as he felt his own, losing himself in how completely she overwhelmed all his senses… the feel of her lips against his, her tongue sliding across the inside of his lip every so often, the smell of her hair, sweet and hot in the steam floating around them, the tiny sounds she made, her heavy breathing drove him wild and he ached to have her as close as was physically possible.

Giving into the carnal passion that threatened to overwhelm him, gently as he could, he twisted her around, hands gripping the underside of her thighs he hitched them up to his hips so that she was straddling him and lifted her easily out of the tub, eliciting from her a gasp, "Eager are we?" she laughed, making him grin against her lips and she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her arms around his neck as he carried her to their bedroom; and soon, they were laying tangled in damp sheets, their legs entwined, chests heaving up in down in the same rhythm, sheepish grins plastered on their faces.

Heavy eyed and almost drunk with happiness, they lay wrapped up in each other still, talking and laughing into the evening, guessing at their friends’ reactions to their news, musing over names and who he or she might look like, which of their traits he or she would inherit, making jokes at each other's expense about which ones they hoped wouldn't be inherited... until eventually, safe in their momentarily indestructible bubble of bliss, they succumbed to exhaustion, drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Happy Little Accidents

Part Two: Hope

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,317

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??

Request: Yes

Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.

A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.

On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.

But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.

However.

You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.

So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.

And there was so much work that had to be done.

Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.

It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.

Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.

You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.

The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.

Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.

You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.

"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.

"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.

You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."

"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.

"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.

"It look's decorated to me?"

"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."

"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."

"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."

"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.

"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.

"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"

"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."

It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.

Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.

There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.

However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.

You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.

So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.

But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.

Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.

There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.

On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.

It was so fucking hard.

Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.

But still, the process continued.

"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.

"Oh, we know."

"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.

"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."

Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."

"Well, goodbye then."

You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.

"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.

You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.

"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."

That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.

***

Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.

If you thought you were bad.

Natasha was far worse.

She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.

You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.

And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.

No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.

It all seemed so foreign now.

Like a past life.

'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.

A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.

Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.

"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.

Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."

"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."

Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.

"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."

Then they walked away.

With you calling after them.

"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"

Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.

"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.

"Hey. How have you two been?"

"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.

"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"

"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."

The care worker laughed at that.

"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."

Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.

And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.

You adored your little family.

You just wished you could have them all home.

'One day', you thought, 'one day'.

Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Just like the last time.

And the time before that.

And the time before that.

And the one before that.

It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.

Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.

"I know, my little love, I know-"

"Mommy!" Hope cried.

"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Mommy!"

"I know."

Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.

"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."

"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."

"But it almost seems endless, Nat."

"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

***

She was right.

Of course, she was right.

She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.

But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.

Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.

Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.

You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.

She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.

"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.

"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."

"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."

You gave an overdramatic gasp.

"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.

"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."

"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.

She was already taking after you.

Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.

She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.

It had been a long time since then.

And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

[multifandombookstore]

Thinking of You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: kidnapping, blood, torture, mentions of BDSM??, noncon kissing, degradation, shooting, death Summary: the reader is taken by the unsub and she starts to hallucinate a certain dork Word Count: 4.7k words

All you can see is red and, no, it’s not from anger. Well, maybe a little bit of that too.

Blood trickles down your forehead into your eyes, your vision blurring with every drop that drips from your wound. With your hands tied up like this, you can’t wipe the blood from your eyes. With your head pounding, you try to remember how you got here. 

You playfully punch Spencer’s shoulder with a laugh, watching him rub his arm where you hit him. “There’s no way that actually happened!” you shout once you calm your laughter. You watch Spencer smile and nod his head, still rubbing his arm. 

“It did! You can ask Hotch,” he replies. He was telling you a story that happened before you joined the team as you two drove to the jet for a case. 

“There’s no way Garcia actually said that to Morgan on speaker! How was she not fired?” you ask incredulously, starting to cackle once more. He laughs along with you, remembering the shock on Morgan’s face when she said it to him. 

“I wish you would’ve been there to see it. Everyone’s face was priceless,” he says, his voice softer than before. You calm yourself again and look over at him, your heart warming at the sight of him. It was still pretty early in the morning, so the sun was shining right in his eyes as you drove, the sun visor doing nothing to protect his beautiful eyes. 

You’ve been on the team for about a year and a half now and it’s honestly been a wild adventure after the next. You were only supposed to stay on the team for a year but, of course, Spencer convinced you to stay and it honestly didn’t take that much convincing. You loved this team as your second family now and you couldn’t imagine working anywhere else or with anyone else. 

You park the car and get out, heading towards the jet where everyone else is walking to. Seeing Morgan, you quickly drag your luggage over to him and start teasing him. You watch him sigh and move his head to glare back at Spencer. You and Spencer start laughing again as you climb the steps, leaving Morgan to stare after the two of you. 

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you?” he asks you two, a playful lilt to his voice. You nod your head, trying to stop your laughter but Spencer kept cracking you up. “Reid, should I tell (Y/n) here about the peach incident?” Morgan asks him with a smirk. Instantly Spencer stops laughing and blushes a dark pink, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought,” he finishes as he sits across from the pair. 

“What? Peach Incident? I wanna know!” you say with a new light to your eyes, looking between the two males. Blackmail on Spencer? Who would’ve thought that existed. 

“No. Nothing happened. He’s bluffing,” Spencer stutters out, his face growing darker, causing Morgan to laugh. The others start to chuckle to themselves, finding the three of you amusing. 

You all stop when Hotch comes to sit down with his fresh cup of coffee, his voice serious as he starts to discuss the case. You all go around tossing ideas out, trying to brainstorm different answers. The flight went by in a minute, it feels like. Then again, your attention was on Spencer for more than half of the ride. The others have never seen you two go more than fifteen minutes without talking to the other. 

Once you touch down in a new state, you all pile out and into the cars waiting for you. You and Spencer take the back of one car while Rossi and Morgan take the front. “This unsub is kinda harsh,” you say softly, looking over the file again. 

“What makes you say that?” Rossi asks curiously, wanting to hear more of your input. 

“I mean, we’ve seen some things in our day but this? This just seems so...ruthless,” you say quietly, looking down at the pictures. Maybe you only thought it was worse than the others because all of these women kind of look like you. 

“Yeah, the stabbing of the genitalia is an overkill. I thought maybe he knew these women but maybe he just hates women in general. Since they all look similar, my guess is that they’re a surrogate for someone,” Morgan replies. You nod your head, trying not to imagine what pain these three women felt before being killed. 

Once you reach the station, you all walk in and set up in an extra room that they’ve allowed for you to use while here. From there, Hotch gives you all your orders. “JJ, Reid. I want you to go interview the two families that showed up today. Morgan, (Y/n). I want you two to go give the second family a visit. See why they haven’t been answering any of the police’s calls. Blake, we are going to go look at the kill sight where the last body was found.” 

With everyone having their orders, you all disperse out of the station. You give Spencer a goodbye smile before following Morgan to one of the cars. “So, peach incident?” you ask as soon as you two are enclosed inside of the car. He laughs as he starts the black vehicle, looking around him as he pulls out of the parking lot. 

“How did I know you were going to ask me again as soon as I heard we were paired up,” he teases with a smile. You grunt and look over at him, placing your cheek into your hand as you watch him drive. 

“C’mon, just tell me! I won’t tell Spencer that I know!” you plead. He scoffs at that, trying to hold back his laugh. 

“Yes, you will. I’m not dumb,” he replies as he checks his GPS to make sure he’s driving the right way. You let out a long groan and dramatically throw your head back against the headrest. Guess you’ll have to blackmail or guilt-trip him if you ever want to get that information. 

He parks the car on the road and checks the GPS once more to make sure that you two have the right address. “Well, this house is...interesting,” you comment as you study the exterior. I mean, it wasn’t terrible but you can tell by the yard and the house’s structure that they don’t take care of it very well. 

“Does anyone even live here?” Morgan asks half playfully as he steps out of the car, making you do the same. You two walk up the driveway and to the front door, both of you staying quiet for a moment to see if you can hear anyone inside. 

Hearing nothing, Morgan knocks on the door. “Hello? Anyone home?” he calls loudly. You both wait for a long moment, hearing nothing once more. 

“Despite their yard, I saw a shed and greenhouse in the back. Maybe they’re back there?” you guess, turning away from the door to look at Morgan. He silently nods his head before turning around and going back the way you two came. You two walk around the house and into the backyard, the dead grass crunching underneath your feet. 

“I can check the greenhouse while you check the shed,” he offers, leaving you to agree and split away from him. You walk over to the shed, noticing the lock is missing from the door. You take one last glance at Morgan before slowly opening the shed door. 

“Hello?” you call, looking into the poorly lit area. There were lots of boxes along with tools lining the wall. You look around the area, looking for clues as to if they’ve killed anyone here or with any of the equipment. You stop at a workbench, seeing tools and papers littering the desk. You pull a glove from your pocket, starting to move the papers around to read them. 

All of a sudden, you hear wood bending and creaking underneath someone’s weight. You turn around to look at Morgan, only to find a tall man with a shovel. Then, you don’t see anything except for black. 

You grunt at the memory, feeling your head throb as you recall the events. The edge of the shovel must’ve been what caused the injury on your head. You don’t doubt that you have a concussion. With blood still dripping into your eyes, you try to figure out where you are. From the looks of it, you’re in an abandoned factory of sorts. 

You tug on your arms again and feel something wrapped around your wrists, holding your arms out behind you. This is also keeping you sat up, the strain of whatever is binding you too great for you to slouch forward. You tilt your head back, hoping to get the blood out of your eyes. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been out for nor do you know how long it is until someone shows up. You bring your head back down and watch as the same man as before walks over to you with a handheld toolkit. He gets down on one knee and then opens up the kit. 

“Are you Mr. Jenkins?” you ask softly, finding your throat a bit dry. He ignores you, pulling out a cloth and dousing it in saline solution. He then cleans your wound, not bothering to be gentle about it. You don’t make a peep though, remaining quiet as to not irritate or upset him and make him stop. Once done with that, he dries the area before wrapping gauze around your head. There’s still caked blood on your face and with your injury, you’re not sure cleaning it up and wrapping it was the best way to go but you suppose this is better than nothing. Besides, you can’t even see how bad your injury is. Maybe it feels worse than it actually is. 

When he deems his job done, he packs everything back into his kit before standing up. “Wait!” you call weakly, watching him not even hesitate to leave you alone once more. You sigh and look around, finding it much easier to see now. After some time has passed, you feel a streak of blood start to trail down your face. You were right, the wound is bigger than he’s letting on. 

You tilt your head back to keep the blood from getting in your eyes again, closing your eyes since all you’re looking at is a ceiling. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to think of a way out of this situation. Already knowing the answer, you bring your head up for a moment to check to see if you still have your gun. Confirming that you indeed don’t have it, you tilt your head back again. You then wondered if he knows you’re not just a random person that wandered into his shed. Your badge is in your coat though, so you can’t check to see if it’s gone or not. You’re guessing he checked all of your pockets before leaving you alone though.

Guess you just need to remain calm and wait to see what happens.

Morgan walks into the greenhouse, finding dead and withering plants scattered around. Despite no one being inside, he starts to look around for evidence or hints as to what these people really do. 

He stops his snooping when he hears a truck on gravel, his boots stepping on dead plants and dried leaves as he walks towards the exit. What he finds though isn’t at all what he’s expecting. 

There you are, limp in someone’s arms and being tossed into the bed of a truck. “Hey! Stop!” he shouts, pulling out his gun as he starts running. The guy, knowing he’s been caught, starts to run to the driver’s door. Morgan aims his gun at the driver and fires, the first shot just missing by a couple of inches. With the man in the truck and starting to drive off in his truck, Morgan shoots at the tires. He curses loudly when he misses or the bullets don’t do anything to stop the driver, simply slowing him down a little. Morgan memorizes as much of the plate as he can before the truck disappears around the corner. 

Morgan curses loudly again and takes out his phone, calling Hotch. With everyone alerted, they all come to the Jenkin’s home. Caution tape is put up at the entrance of the property to keep nosy neighbors at bay, forensics showing up and starting to take pictures of the crime scene. 

Everyone turns when JJ and Reid pull up in another car, knowing that this isn’t going to be good. Reid is in front of them in practically a second, his eyes wide and fearful. “What happened? Where is she?” he spits out faster than anyone can decipher. Morgan, already knowing what he was going to say, places his hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, calm down. Take a breath,” he says calmly, hoping Reid won’t lash out. Lash out is exactly what Reid did though. 

“Calm down? How am I supposed to be calm when (Y/n) was taken by someone? Look at all the blood! She’s probably bleeding out! What were you doing? Why weren’t you here to protect her?” Why wasn’t I here to protect her?

“Reid,” Hotch warns, stepping up beside Morgan. Morgan sighs and looks over at the blood, a frown hanging heavy on his face. “Morgan, tell us what happened now that everyone is here,” Hotch commands. 

Morgan sighs again, refusing to look at them. “(Y/n) and I knocked on the door and there was no answer. She then pointed out that there was a shed and greenhouse in the backyard, and that they might be in there. So, she took the shed while I took the greenhouse. I was looking around inside when I heard a truck. I come out of the greenhouse to see...to see our unsub carrying her to the back of the truck. I called out to him as I drew my gun, starting to fire as he escaped.” 

Everyone stays quiet for a moment after he finishes, no one really knowing what to say. Reid, of course, is the first one to speak. “You should’ve been with her. You shouldn’t have separated. You—”

“Reid,” JJ interrupts, placing her hand onto his back. “You can’t blame him. All of us probably would’ve done the same to cover more ground quicker,” she says softly, trying to soothe him. His hands clench into fists, his eyes stinging with the want of tears. He can’t cry though, not here. 

“I’m sorry. Let’s just work hard to bring her back,” he mumbles, staring at the red ground. 

It’s been a couple of days, you know that much. Mr. Jenkins hasn’t given you any food and has only given you enough water to not die from dehydration. You’ve barely slept a wink, the position you’re in keeping you upright. Besides, you’re too worried and scared to actually close your eyes for long. 

You’re assuming that Mr. Jenkins doesn’t own this property or else the gang would’ve found you by now. You wonder how Spencer is handling this.

“Well, I’m quite upset, I’ll tell you that much.” 

You turn your head to the side, finding Spencer leaning against an old, rundown machine. A smile comes to your face just from the sight of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” you reply hoarsely, your throat dry as a bone and begging for water. He smiles back and walks over to you, squatting down in front of your slouched figure. 

“That’s quite the bump on your head,” he says as he runs his fingers over your wound. You can’t feel his touch though. 

“How did you find me?” you ask, wondering why he isn’t freeing you. 

“You know, I kind of like you tied up like this,” he teases, a smirk spreading across his face. You feel your face heat up at his words, your eyes now avoiding his face. 

“Spencer, I don’t think now is the time for us to be talking about this,” you stutter out. He chuckles at your embarrassment, his hand moving to cup your cheek but you still can’t feel his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know? I never get tired of looking at you,” he whispers, leaning closer to your face. Your embarrassment only grows at his compliment, your head shaking. 

“I don’t understand—”

“Do you remember that one time we played chess? The time before we worked that one stone case? You were right, I did let you win. I just wanted to see you smile when you realized you won,” he whispers. You let out a weak laugh, remembering the memory like it was yesterday. 

“I knew it. I’m a profiler, after all. I can tell when you’re lying,” you respond softly, all this talking starting to drain your energy. He chuckles and leans forward, his breath fanning across your face. Just like you figured, it smells like coffee. He’s addicted to the stuff. 

“No you can’t. You just think you can,” he replies playfully. He then starts to lean closer, his lips ghosting over yours. You close your eyes, waiting to feel his lips against yours. You’ve been wanting to kiss him for so long. You always imagined he would taste like coffee. 

Well, you had your eyes closed until a creaking door is pulled open. You open your eyes to find Spencer gone and in his place is your captor. “What? Wanna kiss?” he snaps, squatting down in front of you. You look away from him, the smell of his breath making you want to puke. He reaches up and grabs the back of your head by your hair, forcing you to bring your head up to look at him. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he snaps. 

He then smashes your lips together, his cracked and dry lips completely covering your own. You don’t return the kiss, simply sitting there as still as a statue. He doesn’t bother kissing you long, knowing you won’t return it. “Dumb whore,” he mumbles as he stands up again, reaching for a container that he had set down when he came in. He pulls out a half filled water bottle and a piece of moldy bread. 

He sets the water bottle down without the cap before setting the bread down onto the dirty floor. “Bone apple teeth,” he jokes as he leaves. You feel your eyes sting but you force yourself not to cry. You bend over with your arms still behind your back and take the top of the water bottle in between your teeth. You then slowly sit up and tilt your head back, using your mouth alone to drink the water. You then look down at the bread once you finish the water, deciding that it’s not worth the trouble. You haven’t gone that long without food, after all. 

After the first visit, Spencer always comes back to visit you more. He never gives you that kiss though. “I have to leave you wanting more or you’ll leave me,” he explains after you confront him one day. Your brows furrow in confusion, your eyes barely even open at this point. 

“That’s not true. I would never leave you,” you reassure. He turns to look at you from his seat beside you, a sad smile coming to his face. 

“Just trust me. If I do...something will happen to you,” he whispers, turning away to look around the dank factory. You let out a sigh and nod your head a bit, understanding what he’s saying. 

“Okay. Just because I’m accepting that though doesn’t mean I like it,” you reply lightly. He hums and looks at you again, his face going from sad to heartbroken. 

“I miss you, you know.” This makes you smile and your heart flutter in your chest. 

“I miss you too. Why else do you think I’ve made you up?” you reply. It took a couple times of him showing up for you to realize that you’re hallucinating him. You didn’t really mind though. He helped you stay sane. 

“Because you need someone handsome to look at?” he asks jokingly. You hum and nod your head, coughing weakly before you can reply to him. 

“There’s that too,” you admit. He laughs and leans over to rest his head on top of yours. In return, you rest your head on his shoulder. Honestly, he’s probably the only reason that you haven’t gone insane yet. 

“I’m getting close. I’ll find you soon,” he promises. You let out another hum, hoping he’s telling the truth and not lying to make you feel better. 

He’s gone in a blink of an eye when the door opens and your captor walks in. “Alright, your time has come,” he says as he starts to undo your binds. Your shoulders and arms scream in pain but you keep your lips tightly sealed to keep you from actually screaming. 

“Do you know who I am?” you croak out. You hear him scoff as he makes you stand up, your vision instantly swimming and causing you to get light headed. You lean against him to prevent yourself from falling down, fear starting to crawl it’s way through your mind. 

“You’re in the FBI, right? I found your badge in your pocket. I took it upon myself to see this as a challenge,” he replies, shoving you forward and causing you to fall face first. You barely have the strength to push yourself up but it didn’t matter since he’s grabbing you by your hair and arm to drag you back up. “I think I’m doing a standup job too. They have no idea where we are,” he informs you proudly. 

You can’t tell where he’s taking you, your vision swimming too much to tell, but the next thing you know, you’re being laid out on a hard, cold surface. “I figured that you’re special, so I’m going to give you some special treatment.” You grunt before letting out a dry cough. 

“Yay me,” you reply sarcastically. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s cutting off your shirt and dress pants. It didn’t take him long to start cutting you. You bite your tongue to stop from screaming but the pain eventually gets to be too much. You try to fight him off but god, you can hardly keep your limbs up or moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if he also drugged the little water he gave you. 

You’re not sure how long you’re there for. A couple minutes, an hour, a day, you don’t know. It doesn’t matter. You’re losing blood fast and you know what comes at the end right before he kills you. “Ready for the finale?” he asks darkly, trailing his knife from your foot up your leg towards your crotch. 

You refuse to beg though. You won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Aww, you’re no fun. By this point, all the other girls were whimpering, snotty messes begging me to spare them. I even got offered for them to be my sex slave and what have you. I wish you’d offer me something like that,” he whines playfully, a dark smile on his face. With the tip of his knife a little above your pelvic bone, he connects his lips to yours again. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, starting to drag that knife down and lighting a fire in the blades place. You bite his tongue just as multiple doors bang open. 

“FBI! Move away from the woman!” someone calls. He pulls his face away from yours, blood pouring from his mouth where you bit into his tongue. 

“You little bitc—” he starts to yell as he pulls his arm back to stab your genitals, just like he did for his other victims. He doesn’t get the chance to stab you though, a gunshot ringing throughout the factory and piercing right through his brain. His blood sprays on you before he falls dead to the floor, relieved tears starting to leak from your eyes. 

Spencer was by your side in a second, holstering his fired weapon. “You’re okay. God, we were almost too late,” he mumbles, tears coming from his own eyes. He helps you sit up before draping his coat around your shoulders and pulling you close. Paramedics are quick to come over to you two, trying to separate you two to put you onto a stretcher. 

“No, stop! I’ll carry her,” he says quickly, keeping you wrapped up tight in his arms. He then turns you to pick you up bridal style, whispering calming words to you as he carries you out of that wretched place. He kisses you on your temple before handing you over to the ambulance, refusing to leave your side as he rides with you to the hospital. You smile lovingly at him as he squeezes your hand, your body not having the energy to return the act. 

You don’t remember passing out but you did, apparently, since the next thing you know, you’re waking up in a hospital bed with a certain nerd asleep by your side. You let out a sigh as you shakily bring your hand up to run it through his messy hair. He wakes up right away and looks up at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh thank god,” he sputters as he stands up to wrap you in a hug. You grunt when you feel the pain flare up in your arms, this making him pull away instantly. 

You find tears in his eyes, your own eyes starting to tear up as well. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he cries, his voice sounding crushed. You sniffle and gently grab his hand, being careful of your wounds. 

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you reply shakily. He smiles at you and uses his free hand to wipe away your tears that started to fall. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, almost too quiet for you to hear. You laugh weakly at this, remembering how you begged imaginary him to kiss you back in the factory. 

“Please.” You barely get to finish before his lips are meeting yours. Not to your surprise, he tastes exactly like you thought he would. Coffee. He kisses you passionately, every single emotion you both feel being expressed through that kiss. Fear, guilt, desperation, love, admiration, and so much more. 

You two pull away when someone clears their throat. “Well, at least I know that you’re okay now,” Rossi teases, the rest of the gang looking in from behind him. You and the others laugh as you wipe the tears from your eyes while they all come in. 

“I’m more than okay. Thanks for saving me, guys.” 

“Don’t thank us,” Hotch says. 

“It’s all because of boy wonder here that we were able to find you,” JJ supplies. You look to Spencer to find him blushing. 

“He went on an absolute rampage,” Blake starts, getting a ‘no, I didn’t’ in response from Spencer, “He refused to sleep until he found you. I don’t think anyone has ever been scared of Reid until that moment.” You’re starting to feel warm now. He did all that for you? 

“Stop exaggerating,” Spencer snaps, giving your hand a squeeze. This makes everyone laugh. Well, except for a certain member of your crew. 

Morgan walks over to your bed, his whole body tense and he almost seems ready to cry. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I got yo—”

“Stop. Don’t blame yourself. There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just learn from it and move on, yeah?” you say kindly, a warm smile on your face. He lets out a hefty sigh and nods his head, a small smile coming to his face. 

“Now, give me a hug. In fact, everyone give me a hug!” you command, making everyone chuckle as they follow your orders.

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MASTERLIST

More with Spencer Reid

Should I make a Tag List? 

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[lugialagia]

Drunk

Summary : Loki and Natasha are spending a cute and chill day at home before going to Thor’s birthday party. Loki gets tispy and tries to seduce his girlfriend Nat.

Pairing : Blackfrost (Loki x Natasha)

Words : 1,323

It was a dark day today. Cloudy and rainy day. Loki and Natasha spent the day in bed. It started with Loki preparing their breakfast while Natasha was still sleeping peacefully. He placed everything on a tray with a cup of coffee and a cup of tea and a nice red rose in a vase.  

Then, the God went back to the bedroom and kissed his girlfriend awake. Natasha whined a bit but still opened her eyes. “Morning handsome.” She mumbled. “Good morning, darling.” Loki replied with a smile. “I made us breakfast.”  

Natasha hummed and pulled Loki against him, snuggling back into his neck. “That’s sweet of you.” She whispered with a smile. “Anything for you, love.” Loki replied kissing her forehead. “Now you should eat before it gets cold.” 

Natasha shrugged a bit. “You can heat it up with your magic, so I don't care.” She said with a smirk. Loki rolled his eyes but had a playful smile on his lips. “Ah yes, you smart little woman.” Natasha laughed a bit a this but still sat up, kissing Loki's cheek on the way. She then pulled the tray on her lap and they both started to eat.  

“That was delicious, like always.” Natasha said with a warm smile. Loki didn’t know how to cook at first when he arrived on Earth, because he was a Prince, people were cooking for him. But since he was with the assassin, he wanted to please her. So he started to cook, watching videos on YouTube once Natasha taught him how to use technology and internet. And he really excelled in it, like most of the activities he was doing.  

“I'm glad you like it darling.” Loki replied with a smile. “What do you want to do today since we can stay home?” He then asked.  

“We can stay in bed and watch movies.” Natasha replied with a smile and cuddled against Loki's chest. “Yes, perfect. And we will drink hot chocolate and eat candies.” The God replied with a sweet smile. Honestly, Natasha couldn’t refuse. Loki loved candies. He had a sweet tooth and since there was no candy on Asgard, the first time he ate one, he immediately loved it.  

“Sure, we can.” The woman replied with a chuckle. But before they could start their little plan, they took a nice bath together, just cuddling in the water while listening to relaxing or just some sweet songs. It was just perfect for the couple. And after the bath, they cuddled back in bed and watched movies together, mostly light and soft movies just to not ruin the mood of the day.  

When the evening finally came, Loki and Natasha prepared themselves for the night. Today was Thor’s birthday and they were having a party at the tower to celebrate it with the whole team. Loki put on a nice tailored suit and Natasha an elegant black dress. Of course, Loki complimented her on it, loving to see her beautiful body in beautiful clothes like this.  

Once ready, they made their way to the tower and greeted everyone, obviously wishing Thor a happy birthday. Then, they went separated ways. Natasha being dragged away by Steve, Wanda and Clint, and Loki by Thor, Stephen and Tony. They both had fun on their own side, talking, laughing and mostly drinking. Of course, Tony thought it would be great to start a drinking game and since Thor liked to drink and never refused challenges, he accepted, dragging Loki in with him.  

Loki was for once, really having fun, he really liked to play with Tony because he was creative and liked to challenge them a lot. But in the end, Loki was a bit tipsy. Well, more drunk to be honest. And Tony and Thor were laughing at it. Thor finally return Loki back to Natasha after an hour more. “Natasha! I think you need to get Loki back home!” He said, his voice booming in the room.  

Natasha looked at Loki, who clearly didn’t seem in his right mind and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” And with that, the blond left to get back to the party. Fortunately, Loki could still stand, walk and talk, so it wasn’t that bad. When the woman approached, the god felt something tingling inside him and a large smile drew on his lips. “Natalia! Oh, how I missed you!” He stated, pulling her into a bear hug.  

Natasha let out a light yelp since she was being squished against his chest. But she quickly pushed him away. “Yeah, I missed you too.” She still chuckled at this, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s get you home.” And since Loki was a bit drunk, he didn’t think straight either.  

“Oooh, home huh?” Loki asked wiggling his eyebrows. “Already getting me into your bed?” Natasha laughed at his comment, pulling him inside the elevator. “I think you’re really drunk, Loki.” But the god didn’t much understand. He was perfectly fine. “I’m not drunk!”  

“Yes you are.” She replied, dragging him to her car. Most of the ride was spent in silence but a few minutes before they arrived, Loki was feeling very...talkative and flirty. “You know...I think you look ravishing like this. But I wonder what you would look like without...all those...clothes.” Natasha obviously laughed at that and shook her head. She never saw Loki drunk, but she must admit it was funny. “Why are you laughing? I’m very serious. I could also make you see stars.” He said with a purr, a hand sliding on her thigh.  

Natasha slapped his hand away. “Back off, you dork. I’m driving.” The god pouted a bit at that and huffed. “You’re no fun.” He mumbled. Soon enough, she parked the car and dragged Loki inside her apartment. “There. Stay here, I’m gonna get you some water.” She said walking in the kitchen to bring him a glass of cold water. “Drink this.”  

Loki just did as he was told and after that, Natasha brought him to the bedroom. “So...you still want me in  your bed, hm?” He asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes and started to take off his jacket and bowtie, then his button up shirt and was about to work on his pants when he stopped her. “Let me see you as well.”  

“Loki, we don’t have time for this. It’s time to sleep, okay?” Natasha replied softly. But suddenly, she could feel a cold breeze on her skin. And for sure, her dress had disappeared, leaving her in underwear. Even drunk, the god still knew how to use his magic. “Perfect.” Loki said looking at her up and down, licking his lips. “Alright, we’ll do something, okay?” Natasha then tried. Curious, Loki nodded.  

“Take off your pants and lay under the covers. I’ll join you, and if you manage to stay awake while I play with your hair for five minutes, we’ll do anything you want.” She knew Loki would never refuse a challenge and she mostly knew that he would fall asleep in less than four minutes with her ministration. It was truly Loki’s weak point. “With pleasure.” He replied with a wide grin, already thinking he would win. Laying under the covers in only his boxers, he waited for Natasha to come in with him. And she did, lying next to him with one of her legs spread on top of him.

Then, she started to play with his dark locks and scratch his scalp while he was caressing her thigh. Like she was expecting, Loki was quickly falling asleep. “You know...I would do...so many things to you...if you were mine.” He mumbled, his eyes slowly falling shut. Natasha chuckled quietly, a sweet and amused smile on her lips. “I’m already yours, trickster.” She whispered, leaving a light kiss on his lips. A few seconds after, the god fell asleep, his breathing steading in a slow rhythm.  

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), alcohol, stupid people in love

a/n: ahh I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA!!! But I’m back with this pls enjoy ! I think the fandom really make germaphobia his only personality trait sometimes which makes me sad because I think he’s actually a quirky/classy dude and very functional in social situations,, I hate to say it but ya’ll would get played by him… sorry.

━Sakusa Kiyoomi

Some of you may be like ???? Omi fucks around ?? how ?? BUT he definitely does in his own way

He probably doesn’t do much in high school to be honest, he’s mostly focused on improving as a volleyball player and achieving his goals

Once he reaches pro level though,,, it’s a different story lmfao

I can see him being picky as hell about his hookups, but just because he’s a bit of a germaphobe doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel attraction or doesn’t have needs…

….He’s so hot too… girl

His hook-ups are always taken seriously though… like he’s the type that feels like he has a professional image to upkeep, so he always arranges things beforehand; he’s definitely not messy about it and sets clear boundaries

I think what makes him kind of a player is how standoffish he can be…and he doesn’t really give anyone a chance because he doesn’t think they what it takes to deal with his lifestyle lmao

He’s just like, its easier to call the uber right after, get into the shower, and wait until he can hear the front door of his apartment shut I’m screamingg

Sakusa also isn’t one to kiss and tell, even with the boys… he doesn’t think its tasteful and would rather not have Atsumu up his ass about his flings

ANYWAYS,, let’s get into this, so you know Atsumu through mutual friends and met during college, and the two of you just instantly clicked since you also were a part of the same sports medicine program as him

Atsumu signed with MSBY and you were so happy for him, but you were bummed because you were busy with PT graduate school and couldn’t really attend any of his games

A year passed and you found yourself texting Tsumu to see if he could meet up and grab coffee since you were on winter break!!

You: hey I’m back in town wanna grab coffee sometime?

Him: who is this

You: I see you haven’t changed ❤️

LMFAO, so you catch up with Atsumu and he talks about his new career and his teammates, he seems so happy :(( we love to see that!!

He invites you to MSBY’s game the following weekend, and you’re pumped to go!! Tsumu got you great seats, and he meets you before warmups to make sure you’re okay finding your way around

Atsumu: don’t take yer eyes off me <3

You:

He’s so…

You’re enjoying the match and you even go to grab Onigiri from Osamu’s stand, but you can’t seem to look away from number 15 on Atsumu’s team

He’s .., scrumptious to say the least 🥴

Like he’s so composed and calculated on the court, and you find it so funny how he rolls his eyes whenever Tsumu says something to him and how Tsumu gets so heated about it 💀

The match ends and you go down to meet Atsumu near the lockers, showing the security your family/friend pass 😌

You walk through the halls trying to locate the setter, but you can’t seem to figure out where he is

The only person in the hall is the tall, dark haired man that caught your eye earlier; he is already walking towards the exit with a mask covering his face, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, sweats embroidered with “Sakusa” adorning his body we’re all looking..... respectfully

He’s truly so intimidating but you’re like….highkey lost… so you don’t really have another option

You catch up with him, poking his shoulder gently; he turns around and his attention on you is almost STARTLING.. like his eyes are SO dark

Him: can I help you

You: sir… if you don’t rail me, I’m gonna have to intervene‼️😈😹

After getting over your initial shock, you hear multiple footsteps rumbling down the hallway towards the both of you

Sakusa lets out an annoyed sigh, muttering about how he has to go, but before he can escape you hear Atsumu’s loud voice LMFAO

“OMIIII, where are you goin’? Its team karaoke night remember?”

Tsumu sees you and slings an arm around your shoulders, “Oh-? So I see you’ve met our outside hitter Omi?”

You glance over at Sakusa, his expressionless eyes glued to your face, then slowly trailing down to analyze the way Atsumu casually has you tucked under his arm

Atsumu nudges him, and he grumbles that he’ll meet them after changing at home before walking off in the direction of the private parking garage

You meet the rest of the MSBY boys in the uber, and find them super friendly and welcoming; Bokuto and Hinata buy the first round of drinks at the karaoke bar, but you only have one because you have work to finish the next day WE STAN

Atsumu already has a pink glow setting into his cheeks when you see the boys turn their attention to Sakusa walking through the front door, looking as handsome as ever in his dress pants and fitted white t shirt

They all shout out incoherent hello’s, and he takes the only open seat next to you with a glass of gin and tonic in his hand he smells so good god

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you find yourself turning towards him, and you just start asking him about himself and his career, and surprisingly he’s very polite and much more animated than you previously thought

His voice is like…so alluring and he never looks away from you when you talk, its like he’s absorbing every word

Meanwhile, Atsumu is stumbling over the stage with Bokuto belting Love by Keisha Cole LMFAOO😭

Tsumu kind of ‘warned’ you in the car ride over that Sakusa was a germaphobe, but you know that Atsumu tends to invade people’s personal space sometimes and it probably wasn’t as dramatic as he made it out to be

However, you weren’t expecting the outside hitter to lean over from his seat after checking the time on his phone, whispering in your ear, asking you if you wanted to meet him at his place later than night WHEW

Girl I would be sweating… and you say yes ofc because who’s going to pass up this type of opportunity-

He gives you a charming smile and is like,, okay cool, I’ll see you later then 😊 I’m dead

Ya’ll exchange phone numbers and he’s like if you need any help with my idiot teammates let me know before he takes off

You don’t tell Tsumu about your little… entanglement plans dsnjaknda but honestly he wouldn’t even remember based on the way he’s slumped against you in the uber he owes you big time

You get home after dropping off Tsumu at Osamu’s, and operation dick appointment with the professional volleyball player is put into action 😈

He sends an uber over to get you ladies do not settle for less please, and you’re BIG nervous but in a good way as in you know this dick is about to be bomb af

SO you’re standing in front of his apartment door, and when he opens it, he’s still in the clothes he wore to the bar and its like 1 am he’s so powerful

Um I feel like he would get straight to it honestly, probably starts with a little convo on the couch and then…

YOU WEREN’T AWARE HE WAS SO DIRTY,,, it was SO good too like after getting home that night you’re going through a crisis… like you had so much chemistry together for having just met, and you wonder if he feels the same way🥺

You caught yourself in sleepless states some nights, kept awake by the thoughts of the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his five o’clock shadow gently rubbed against your face when you kissed, and how he would hold you(only after a thorough shower together of course)

As it happens more and more, he lets you into his life little by little, and you notice and remember small facts about him and he often remembers a lot of the things you tell him about you, its really enjoyable for both of you

Its weirdly domestic to a point but that’s why its so good for both of you???it adds a bit of spice ??

Sakusa: can you come over tonight

You: sorry the retainer is in already <3 no dick sucking for me tonight <3

Him: I bought pastries from that cafe you like

You: say less✈️ I’m coming💃

AND he HAS jokes okay, like he’s funny as hell and very witty when his true self comes out; but he’s also a HUGE tease and he’ll say something completely straight-faced that someone else might take offense to like “you look ugly,” but you just know he’s kidding from being around him long enough and from seeing the little glint in his dark eyes

It becomes a routine thing while you’re home honestly, and you try your best to hide it from Atsumu because you just KNOW you would never hear the end of it; for all he knows, you met him that one time at the bar and that was that

Everything is going smoothly until you slip up at one of their games

You were sitting in the waiting area with the team (mostly talking to Atsumu), when he just says something that makes your short circuit

Atsumu: what kind of animal do ya think omi would be? An octopus maybe?

You: yeah I mean with those flexible wrists it makes sense

Atsumu: what the fawk🤠

He’s like… how do you even know about his flexible wrists IT TOOK ME 6 MONTHS TO GET TO THAT STAGE WITH HIM-

Oops, lmfao so you kind of tell him about everything and he’s literally shocked for you, mostly because he doesn’t want you to get hurt :(

Atsumu: So I see he’s just sleeping with ANYONE anyone

LMAO noo he definitely thinks you’re too good for him and he kind of lectures you, telling you that he had a hunch that he messes around with girls like that, but also you’re an adult and you can take care of yourself, and it isn’t like it’s a serious thing!!

Meanwhile, Omi is like going through a bit of a crisis all alone because everything around him reminds him of you or something you said when you were together

He got with people who were compatible sexually often, but he never had the urge to have them stay over after the deed; he usually immediately called them an uber and wouldn’t speak to them again

He found himself thinking about seeing you in the stands at his games, wishing you were there to cheer for him only, and he adored the way you respected his boundaries unlike many of his hookups

Atsumu probably notices something is off with him at practice

Atsumu: hey…if ya ever want to talk about somethin’-

Sakusa: no

Girl… he doesn’t disclose any of this to anyone

Its nearing the end of your break, and you head over to sakusa’s for probably the last time before you go back to school

You’re kind of at the point where you don’t think anything will happen and you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and it goes how it usually goes? Except he kind of hugs you goodbye and your heart goes: 🦋🦋🦋

You go back to school, occasionally texting Tsumu about your graduate program, and before you know it, like 5 months pass by and you’re back for summer!

Tsumu texts you and is like… sorry but I’m forcing you to be my plus-one tonight for this dinner thing I have to go to

So you dress up and he comes to pick you up, and you’re really not sure why you were surprised to see Kiyoomi sitting at the table when you arrive you give Atsumu a nice smack on the back of the head for not warning you

You sit down at the table after greeting everyone, trying your best to not act awkward when you shoot sakusa a small smile that he returns politely (but you don’t see it because of his mask)

Atsumu sits weirdly close to you the entire dinner with his arm around the back of your chair, and he’s just acting strange in general??? Like he’s bragging about your degree program and about your accomplishments, you just know he’s trying something funny; but you don’t really say anything because you don’t want to disrespect him in front of the team’s staff as a guest

You almost choke on your wine and you catch on when Bokuto starts making comments after Atsumu says something,

Atsumu: …so yeah, pretty much she should be our next president in my humble opinion

Bokuto: 🙈WOAH. WHAT?😍 HOW COULD SHE GET ANY BETTER⁉️🙄 OR HOTTER⁉️💪🏼💋

You, sitting there: 🧍‍♀️

He’s so bad at acting I’m crying..,, it becomes so obvious that they’re trying to make Kiyoomi jealous

(the boys plotted beforehand, trying to get Omi to ask you out officially; after you left, he literally would never shut up about you whenever Atsumu mentioned you, and it was just obvious he was in his feels when it came to you)

Atsumu: she’s studying at a café tonight for finals

Sakusa: Yeah so I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been thinking about it for days. Fine I guess I’ll say it. Her favorite coffee blend is French roast and she only likes a dash of sugar with a lot of cream, but it has to be hazelnut creamer or else she doesn’t like any-

Everyone in the gym: 🗿

LMAO ANYWAYS ITS LOWKEY WORKING you look over at him and his face is like stone.. girl..

The dinner is almost over and Atsumu gets up to go to the restroom with a wink I hate him, and you get up to catch a breath of fresh air outside

You sit on a bench for a minute, calming yourself down after the eventful dinner, but then you see the door to the restaurant swing open, Sakusa looking around the corner before spotting you

Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks over and asks if he can join you, inspecting the bench before sitting down, pulling his mask down as well

He eases into a conversation by just asking you how you’re doing, basic stuff, but then in the middle of you going off on a tangent about your stupid professor, he stops you

“I missed you.”

He crosses his legs, not looking at you as he takes your hand, intertwines it with his, and places it in his lap

You gaze at him, taken back at his confession, noticing the slight pinkness tinging his pale cheeks

You say you missed him too, and then he’s asking you if you would like to go on an actual date with him

You: wait are you asking me out officially?

Him: Yes. No I’m not. Yes I am❤️

SKSLD Please he’s awkward help him a little, you agree and then you hear a tap on the window behind you, you turn around to see Tsumu, Bokuto and Adriah behind you with big grins on their faces LMFAO 🤡

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small upturn of the corners of his lips as he hears Bokuto happily scream through the glass

[australet789]

Honestly, i dislike the theories about the Soul being a full possessive entity and Kris being fully miserable cause like... that's not what's shown. Kris does have agency in a lot of stuff (example: attacks they use, clothes they wear, the whole cutscenes), and while us the players have the ability to choose, we dont get a say in which the alternatives are. We are trapped too with limitless options on what to make Kris say/ask, and even when we have the option, is not clear what the actual outcome might be and sometimes (or most of the times), Kris seems to agree with what the player does, only time showing discomfort are the Weird/Snowgrave route, the Spamtom fight and in Hometown.

Are we responsible when we hurt the characters? Certainly. And we do get guilt out of that. But not for that it means that we are the main villain or fully evil, because if you say the Soul is the problem, then we the players are too and there wouldnt be a game nor would Kris would be able to get to the Dark World.

So while, yes, Kris doesnt like to have a parasite like being living inside them all the time, at certain points, it's shown that they dont seem to mind and are complicity with what we do.

I think the main goal shouldn't be wanting to get rid of us, but find a way to be a TEAM and release ours and theirs (Kris's) full potential.

P.S: i dont think the Spamtom fight made Kris uncomfortable because of the puppet thing, but because of what they can become if letting us taking full control. Even tho most of the times we dont do fucked up stuff, things like the Weird Route might be the reason Kris could be scared. It's more about the "what ifs" rather than fully rejecting us living inside them.

[superman86to99]

Superman #87 (March 1994)

Bizarro's World, Part 1! Bizarro is back! Hey, wait, didn't this guy explode the last time we saw him, back in 1986? Yep: this is a completely different defective Superman clone who is appearing for the first time, so I'm not sure why he's saying "Me am back!" on the cover. Then again, he is a Bizarro, so maybe he means "Me am appearing for the first time!"

This new Bizarro is created by Lex Luthor Jr.'s main lackey, Dr. Sydney Happersen, in an effort to help cure the mystery illness that's making Lex lose his hair -- and also killing him, but the hair is the main thing for Lex, especially since Cat Grant’s gossip show has aired some paparazzi photos of his newly balding head. Unfortunately, the first thing Bizarro does is zap Happersen in the face with heat vision and fly off. Lex berates poor Sydney, not terribly concerned by the fact that his face is burning.

The second thing Bizarro does is destroy a bunch of ships and set the bay on fire while trying to steal a launch called "S.S. Lois.” Yes, Bizarro apparently thought his beloved Lois Lane was a boat, but honestly I’m just impressed he can read. He must have realized that he didn’t have the actual Lois pretty soon, though, because he then pays her a little visit at her apartment.

Of course, Superman is blamed for Bizarro's shenanigans, including Lois' kidnapping (even his friend Inspector Henderson seems to think Metropolis’ protector might have randomly decided to start kidnapping reporters). The issue ends with Cat's gossip show reporting that eyewitnesses saw Supes snatch Lois -- so hey, Happersen’s plan to cure his dear boss may not have worked, at least he succeeded in getting those paparazzi shots off TV.

CONTINUED!

Creator-Watch:

This issue is the start of artist Stuart Immonen’s looooong association with the Superman titles -- so long, in fact, that he outlasted the rest of the Super-Team, having been spared in the editorial massacre of 1999. He’s only a guest artist now, but he’ll soon become a regular one and eventually a writer too. More on Immonen (and why his style looks so familiar today) in Don Sparrow’s section below!

Plotline-Watch:

So not only did Lex kill Dr. Teng, the first Bizarro’s creator, but he also steals his intellectual property? His tendency to mistreat his employees is gonna come back to bite him in the ass one of these days...

Happersen’s logic for re-cloning Bizarro to cure Lex is kinda iffy; this would make a lot more sense if the Clone Plague was causing all the infected to slowly turn into backwards-speaking albino Frankensteins like Bizarro, but that’s not the case. Then again, the original Bizarro did somehow end up curing Lucy Lane’s blindness upon exploding, so I guess anything's possible. In fact, Lex might be able to cure every illness in the world if he created enough Bizarros and had them explode over everyone in the planet, but of course he's far too evil to even think of that.

One thing I don't understand is why Bizarro's suit turns dark (beyond "Silver Age Bizarro's suit was dark"). In the Byrne issue, it conveniently darkens after Superman burns his clothes, but here it just sorta fades into that color as Bizarro’s body itself turns all white and ugly. Did Happersen simply cheap out on the fabric?

Clark thinks it's "weird" that he accidentally broke a light bulb by misjudging his strength, because he STILL hasn't noticed his powers are out of control after like three months of scenes like this one in every issue. Are his journalism powers also faltering? He also mentions that he had to stop wearing a watch Lois gave him because the band was getting too tight. Spoilers: he's gonna have to enlarge a lot more than that pretty soon.

It’s nice to see Cat back on the job again and all, but is it me or is spreading gossip about the man who caught her son’s killer kinda dickish?

Patreon-Watch:

You know who isn’t dickish? Our patrons Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Hank Curry, and Bol, so shout out to them! Obligatory Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99

And now, as promised, more from our Canadian correspondent Don Sparrow!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

We open with the cover, and it’s quietly a real classic with Bizarro breaking through a brick wall, Superman-style.  The trade dress is all reversed, which is already eye catching, and we’re helpfully given a supra-title letting us know this is part one of a multi-part story.  The word bubble with Bizarro’s trademark primitive speech lightens the mood a little bit, which is a good thing, as the cover would otherwise be quite terrifying.

Inside we’re treated to the very first Stuart Immonen Superman story, an artist and eventual author who will have a huge impact on these books.  It’s a bit strange to evaluate his art style, which has now more or less become the official modern house style at Marvel Comics (Agree? Disagree? Let me know in the comments).  In 1994, though, his crisp and shadowy artwork was totally unique, and something very brand new.  Even in these early, expositional pages, he shows a lot of flair, drawing both figures and television equipment with very well rendered simplicity.  The colourist lets him down a little bit in the early going here, with the seemingly random rim lighting on Lex Jr’s emaciated face being particularly confusing. [Max: It’s the Clone Plague! He’s Bizarro-ing!!]

On page 3, we get a good look at both a strength and a weakness that defines Immonen’s Superman work. One strength is his attention to attire, particularly Clark’s outfits.  His mid-90s baggy shirt and high-waisted dockers look very of its time, without being so fashionable that you lose that it’s Clark Kent.  The weakness (and it might be his only one, as he really is a stellar artist!) is that I never thought he drew Superman/Clark’s face handsomely enough.  While I appreciated that he makes Superman look quite youthful (relative to, say, Jackson Guice’s Superman) the facial features always looked a little slight, weak-chinned, and average-looking to me.  But that might just be me!

The full page reveal of “Superman” leaving the cloning chamber is a good one, despite, again, some weird colouring choices.  Immonen’s style lends itself well to rim lighting, but the bright whites on the arm and the blobs of colour on the abs don’t quite pull together (but I get it—this is an in-between era, after the flat newsprint colour, but before fully airbrushed looking digital colouring took over.

On the following page, there’s a great, subtle piece of drawing, as in the background the weakened Lex carefully holds himself up as he decends the staircase, which is a great gesture.  Bizarro zapping Happersen looks horrifyingly painful, and I dig that Bizarro is drawn less crystalline than Frankenstein-like, which is appropriate, given the original 1958 Superboy story that introduced the character.

So much of this issue is well drawn, it’s hard to narrow down the best panels, when you could select almost all of them, but the show of Superman darting away from Lois’ apartment is a particularly great image.  Immonen’s Superman seems to have the longest hair of this period. Drawing funnels of water as Superman douses the tankers is really well done, as water is notoriously difficult to render believably.  One last detail I love is the use of candid photos in the broadcast of Cat Grant’s Hollywood news magazine.  It’s a great real world detail that the photos that sort of journalism would use might not be subject submitted.  On the whole, a very exciting issue, art-wise, and a good kickoff to the reintroduction of a major Superman character.  

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Uhh, what exactly does Jimmy Olsen’s t-shirt say? [Max: “Thank You,” obviously. Jimmy is a huge Alanis Morissette fan. Must be a bootleg t-shirt, though, because she spells it “Thank U.”]

Now, this book was written decades before doofy “Nice Guy” meme culture, but Clark is kinda laying it on thick with all the “milady” business here, and it hits the modern ear in a dorky way. [Max: At least they didn’t spell it “m’lady.”]

Canadian Stuart Immonen places a CD by fellow Canadian Leonard Cohen on Lois’ shelf.  Canadian Don Sparrow notices. [Max: Chilean Leonard Cohen fan Maxwell Yezpitelok never did until now! Pretty sure I didn’t know who that was when I first read this issue at age 11 or something, though.]

It’s interesting that Jurgens specifically points out how careful Superman is to discreetly come and go from Lois’ apartment—it’s a good detail, and also sets up the contrast of Bizarro’s door crashing indiscretion.

The fact that so many people mistake Bizarro for Superman is actually a pretty good defense of the believability of the Clark Kent secret identity.  If witnesses like the neighbour, or the ship captain see the hideous Bizarro in action, and still mistake him for Superman, it’s clear that people are distracted by the muscles and brightly coloured uniform, and clearly aren’t looking closely at his face.  Which is exactly how Clark’s true identity has stayed secret for so long.