#your ability to keep up with so many asks
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theonlyhonoredone · 3 days ago
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Yuji BF Headcanons
Pairing: Yuji Itadori x Reader
Warnings: none
Summary: my idea of how Yuji is as a partner
Masterlist
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bf!Yuji is crushing hard, he’s down so bad it’s actually pathetic. He fumbles his words in front of you, stutters when he tries to compliment you, and is the first to like any and everything you post. He thinks you’re the funniest person alive and sticks to you like velcro. He’s always asking if you want to hang out or train or anything else he can do to get you in the same room as him. He waits for the absolute perfect opportunity to ask you out, either taking you to some big festival or saving up for months to take you to some fancy restaurant.
bf!Yuji who fakes being totally confident when he asks and then freaks out when you say yes. He’s gasping and asking if you really mean it and then hugging you so tight you almost pass out. Things fall into place quickly after that, you two are a natural fit.
bf!Yuji always keeps you on your toes. He likes for dates to be really special and exciting so he always wants to do something grand. He won't admit it to you, but he knows he's going to die young. He's living on an extended death sentence which means he won't get the long happy life he truly wants with you. He hopes to create as many special and lasting memories with you as he can, hoping that he'll be able to relive them on his death bed and you'll be able to find comfort in them when he's gone.
bf!Yuji does not consider nights in or casual hang outs as dates because they aren't special enough. That doesn't mean he loves those moments any less though, in fact nights in with you are one of his favorite things on earth. The man is glued to you 24/7 so of course he’s excited for any chance to cuddle. He needs every part of his body to touch every part of yours, he’ll smother you any chance he gets. If you have to get up to pee or anything really he’s whining and asking you to stay. He gives you the sad puppy eyes whenever you escape from his arms and pouts until you return to him.
bf!Yuji uses his crazy athletic ability to show off to you any chance he can get. He’s always telling you to watch him do something he's sure you'll find impressive. He'll offer to carry you everywhere you go. He gets butterflies every time you call him strong or tell him how cool he is. If you go to an arcade he will drag you over to every game that involves any amount of athletic ability and make you watch him set a new high score. You always love it, except for the time he broke a machine and got you kicked out.
bf!Yuji is constantly coming up with new pet names for you. They are sometimes sweet but more often over the top and totally ridiculous. He’s constantly changing your name in his phone too, and he spends hours editing pictures of you to make your profile picture. He likes adding all sorts of little stickers and drawing little hearts around your face.
bf!Yuji also loves to post these and add a long caption calling you his little schmoopy schnookums pie while he declares his undying love for you. His over the top gestures are how he shows you that you’re always on his mind. He doesn’t care if anyone else thinks it’s embarrassing or cringy, he just cares that you know how much he loves you. He loves you so much that he sometimes feels like he might explode if he doesn’t express it. 
bf!Yuji is clingy to the point of annoyance. You do have to remind him that you need space and time alone and while he might not understand (he wants to spend every moment with you), he respects your needs and wants. He wants you to be happy all the time and if that means leaving you alone for a few hours then he will.
bf!Yuji tries his best to let the two of you have quiet moments together too. Even though he is a yapper at heart, he manages to sit for hours without saying a word, sometimes. As time goes on he starts to treasure these moments and find a lot of comfort in just sitting beside you, not talking about anything. It’s enough just knowing you're right there with him.
bf!Yuji is not the kind of person to get insecure. He's more nervous in the begging of your relationship, but once you tell him you love him the first time that flies out the window. You love him and he loves you and to him that’s enough to know things will always work out.
bf!Yuji gets incredibly anxious anytime he has to buy you a gift. Birthdays and holidays are a nightmare for him. He never knows what to get you and will spend hours pacing around countless stores to find the perfect gift. He tries to remind himself that it’s the thought that counts and that you’re always happy with what he gets you, but it never settles his nerves. He’ll second guess himself until the moment he hands the gift over. Watching your lips curl up into a big smile as you open it up is what finally makes him relax.
bf!Yuji is never possessive and almost never jealous. The only thing that really makes him jealous is when you go to the movies without him. It doesn’t matter who you’re going with either, he's jealous. He loves the movies and he loves you so of course he loves going to the movies with you. He’ll never admit he's jealous, but he’ll definitely pout and tell you how much how much he wanted to see the film. Of course you can see right through him and will always offer to go see it again with him. That always brings him back to his usual chipper self. 
bf!Yuji turns into the biggest baby when he gets sick. The common cold is a death sentence as far as he is concerned. The only possible cure is you feeding him soup and rubbing his back. He will beg for snuggles and kisses but dramatically tell you not to come near him so you can’t catch whatever deadly virus he has when you actually try. As soon as he’s better though he’s expecting you to help him make up for lost time by letting him smother you to his heart's content. 
bf!Yuji will do literally anything for you. He’d figure out how to rearrange the planets if that was what you wanted, and he'd do it with a smile. If you need help with anything at all he wants to be your first call. You want to redecorate your room? Call Yuji. You want a late night snack? Call Yuji. You want to rob a bank? Call Yuji. He's the definition of ride or die and he never lets you forget how treasured you are.
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laughingcatwrites · 2 days ago
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I'm going to disagree with two points in this, as I believe you have both oversimplified and allowed personal bias/pop culture to affect your response.
The first point I disagree with is the idea that there is a "class position" and a unique "psyche" for people who identify as (or are identified as by people such as your questioner) liberals. I've seen everybody from homeless people living out of their cars, to people scraping by on multiple minimum-wage jobs, to middle-class working families, to upper-middle-class individuals who work jobs with six figures called liberals. The identification of people as liberals also isn't limited to where they live or what kind of community they live in. The people right-wing pundits tend to call liberals are as diverse as any other group within the United States, spread across the same geography as any other group, and are made up of the same individuals found within any random sampling of people across the USA.
I would also argue that when you are writing "liberals," you really mean "Democrats," due to what is the second point I'm about to disagree with, which is your answer only addressing shame being leveraged as a personal weapon rather than being used in response to its history as a political one.
You may not remember this, but starting in the 90s, the Republican party was very focused on a few things: using shame as a weapon against the Democratic party, establishing the use of the term "liberal" as a double-speak to mean Democratic and as having a negative connotation, and then using both the supposed "shamefulness" of the Democratic party's "liberal" agenda and the alleged "morality" of their own to obstruct any meaningful progress in politics.
Here is a link to an except from a 1990 Gopac pamphlet called "Language: A Key Mechanism of Control" that was sent to Republican candidates to coach them on how to use language to portray themselves as the morally-superior group and the other party as the shameful one: https://uh.edu/~englin/rephandout.html
Here is a link to an article from 1995 discussing how Newt Gingrich uses the language from that pamphlet (for example, blaming negative coverage on the "liberal elite media"), as well as containing a larger except from the pamphlet: https://fair.org/home/language-a-key-mechanism-of-control/
And finally, here is an excellent article on personal vs political shaming. I'm including it because of the section where it discusses the 1994 tipping point where the "Republican Revolution" led by Newt Gingrich effectively started the movement towards partisanship and extremism seen today: https://www.humanities.org/spark/politics-shame-polarization/
So why am I bringing up political shame for an ask that, at face value, is about personal shame due to politics?
I'm doing so for two reasons:
1. This is the tactic that citizens in the United States have seen the Republican party wield effectively since the 90s. Heck, there are many articles from this election about how Trump managed to wield the personal shame of various groups into votes for him. Here's one example: https://time.com/7020792/trump-white-rural-america-shame-blame-essay/
So it's entirely possible that the people shaming the questioner are simply interpreting Republican tactics as Republican viewpoints and trying to speak to the asker in the type of language they think that person best responds to. I worked for a few years in a deeply religious area of the United States, and I quickly learned that in order for people to understand my point of view on any topic, I needed to either phrase it in a religious manner or focus on how it related to the religious values of the region.
I imagine that between the decades of preaching of moral superiority and the increasing religious wing within the Republican party, it can be an easy mistake to make to assume that speaking in terms of morality would be the best way to approach the questioner.
2. Considering the various things Trump has promised to do on the first day in office, I strongly suspect some of the people "shaming" the questioner are simply trying to figure out if that person is still safe to be around. If your questioner agrees with the values that threaten them or simply considers those values a "not my problem," they could prove a viable threat to those people if some of the more egregious of Trump's promises come to fruition.
Which brings me to my conclusion:
The person who asked the question may need to listen closer to those they believe are shaming them, as they may be misinterpreting attempts to "speak their language" or see if they're still safe to be around as accusations. Another person left tags about how when they think they are being shamed, they listen to see what the real concern is. Rather than reassure your questioner that it's some class-based "liberal psyche" thing, you may want to agree with them that being shamed can entrench a person's position, but also remind them to listen closely to what is and isn't being said to see if there are some real concerns that can be addressed or common ground that can be found with the others addressing them.
hey, can you talk about how shame doesn't really work to make ppl change views? I'm surrounded by libs who are like "if I call Trump voters stupid enough it will work" even though it hasn't worked for the last 10 years
im tired boss
Well, if we want to talk about the psychological mechanics that explain why shame doesn't work I have articles and books on that, which I'm assuming you're already familiar with. But what you're really asking here isn't why shame doesn't work, but how you can get your lib friends to stop utilizing shame, and the truth is, you can't. They're using shame because it FEELS GOOD TO THEM. Shame is reinforcing for the *shamer* because it helps them to feel righteous and correct and like they don't have any additional work to do in understanding the shamed person's perspective. And the liberal psyche is particularly attuned to finding that attractive for a variety of reasons, especially their class position in the world.
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howlett-n-morgan · 2 days ago
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More Than Words
2. Questions
Logan Howlett x OC!Reader
Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.
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Chapter Warnings: still a lot for now but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of murder, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan is a warning, especially here
Chapter Summary: The bad dreams have ceased, but many questions lurk in their place, and the meaning behind those dreams is still one of them. In the middle of all the chaos, a few things will come to light.
Word Count: 8.4k
“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”
You put your headset on this morning. You usually only used it to drown out everything else when you really needed to. Everyone has noticed except those who don’t know what it means. Those who do, remember the times in which you were at your lowest. Back then you were practically unable to function without the damn headphones over your ears. The last time you even remember wearing them was when you first started teaching here, all the noise and rapid energy being quieted by the music in your head.
 After last night, and the confessions made to Logan, he seemed to be open to hearing more from you then… but he kept you at arm’s reach now, and you couldn’t say you didn’t understand why. He’s not just been thrust into the middle of an age-old fight between friends, but he also is struggling with his identity. 
You did however learn something interesting after hearing chatter when you woke up. Logan and Scott aren't getting along. Why? Because Logan has been relentlessly flirting with Jean. You’d scoffed when you found out. Not because you don’t think Jean is worthy of such advances, but because he was basically shooting himself in the foot by even trying to take her from Scott. 
Jean is a rare bird, and a special person. Charles argues the same thing about everyone who sets foot on the property, but with her, it’s especially true. She’s smarter than most people you know, having gone to a college outside of the education given by Charles and the others. She even attended school alongside you for a while, although it only took you a few semesters to realize you weren’t cut out for the medical field like she was. You have to be able to touch your patients, after all.
She had a lot to offer, and anyone could see that. Even excluding her powers, which were enough to level a city on their own. She was kind, nurturing, and very strategic. All of those things combined with the looks of a super model made her one of the most desirable people in the entire mansion, so even though you and Logan made a connection, you don’t find it hard to see why he’s taken with her. 
It may bother you just a little, but you would never admit it to anyone who asked, not even Charles. 
All of this is not why you put on your headset, but it could be a contributing factor. 
You’ve just met Logan, or at least officially. It stands to reason that you shouldn’t have an inkling of feelings yet. You can’t imagine that would be how it goes. In any rational situation, you have to get to know him. That’s how relationships work.
You remember how it was with Charlie, how it took more than one night of talking late when everyone else was asleep. You got to know him, and got to see his kindness and compassionate heart. You’d seen who he truly was, and it warmed your heart and soul, despite not being able to touch him. You don’t know Logan yet, but you imagine he’s not as soft and kind, nor gentle or compassionate. He seems like sort of a lone wolf, and the type to push away everything except for what he’s got his eyes set on. You don’t even know if the connection you made was real, or if he was just looking for company…
He has nightmares, but you don’t know why. It’s only one relation, that’s all. Maybe he’d only asked you to stay because he was frightened of them, just like you are of yours.
You’d gone back to your room near the hours of sunrise, and fell back asleep before your alarm woke you, but you were still exhausted, and wondered if he was facing the same conundrum. It was only when you went to ask him about it that he became colder to you than the night before. He’d given a stiff answer and gone about his morning, which you were confused by, since he wasn’t a student, nor a teacher.
You passed him in the halls throughout the day, and nodded to him with a sweet smile. He doesn’t really return it, just kept walking. You think that maybe he just didn’t see you, or was on his way to do something else and couldn’t pay attention, but then at dinner he refuses to look at you, and you can’t for the life of you understand why. 
You decide to block him out, to deal with the more pressing matters. The school, the mutant rebellion, and Rogue, the newest recruit. 
She’s like you in a few ways, and you feel sorry for her. You hope that by passing on some stories that maybe she can find hope in her powers. They are a gift and a curse, but she holds them wonderfully well already.
You found her on the back balcony, overlooking the gardens. She’d been sitting alone for about an hour, but didn’t seem to be bothered, just enjoying the peace. You debated whether or not you should disrupt it, but the second she heard you behind her, she turned. 
You had been organizing things back where they go, following the mess of mutant children to try and keep the house in good shape, and now that you’d found yourself with her, you wanted to say a few things. You peeled your headset off and sat beside her, offering a smile first. Her energy felt stiff, like she’d been unwelcome where she was. 
“You settled in yet?” 
She shrugged, unsure of what to say. Even in a place full of people like her, she was an outsider. “I guess I’m getting there.”
It was silent for a moment, and you sensed her energy was low and draining. She must have been sad, or angry, or even flat our forlorn about her powers and the danger they hold. 
“Y’know, when I first found out about my powers, it was the worst day of my life,” you started, but quickly followed up, knowing the words were not inspiring. “They are a blessing and a curse, but for most of my life they were a curse… until the Professor found me. Now, I’ve learned to use them to help people. You can, too.”
It should have helped, but her feelings on the power she held didn’t waver, she just wanted to know what she was in for, and you knew better than anyone what she would face.
“Did you ever… hurt anyone?” she asked sincerely, turning to face you but managing the distance. Both your touches were lethal and dangerous.
“Yeah,” you sighed, looking out to the gardens and hoping that the serene ambience would keep you in a good state of mind. “Most of them were the people closest to me. Always an accident, but still a deadly one.”
“I’m sorry,” she dropped her head, unsure of herself now, too. She didn’t know how to control it, or even subdue it. It may not even be possible. 
“Don’t be sorry, it was a long time ago… I’m a lot more careful now.”
“They told me how old you were, how long you’ve been around…” she trailed, looking for a good way to ask such a terrible question. “How have you lived that long without being able to touch the people you love?” 
You understood why she was asking. Of course, she was concerned about her future, but also her present. She’s a runaway, who’s left her entire family because of her ability. She must be feeling the lonesomeness that all mutants inevitably face at one point in their lives.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying not to become emotional. You’ve loved many people in your lifetime, many people you’ve lost early, or at the right time, but you could never go with them. You can’t seem to die, but everyone else does when you need them the most. “I think that being here is really what saved me. Not only knowing there are others like me, but knowing I can have a family who doesn’t fear me, doesn’t judge me. Even knowing all the things I’ve done.”
“You didn’t do them on purpose, did you?” 
“No,” you shook your head. “But I’m still responsible for them, for the people I’ve killed.”
You’ve killed people. How many, she doesn’t know, but she feels as though you’re the only person that can understand her. That can understand being afraid of herself and what she can do to others. She knows that you’ve probably gone decades and decades just trying to learn how to be more careful, and that she’ll have to learn, too. 
“You said you’d hurt people you love… what happened?” 
This was a very soft spot for you. Even after a century, it was still an open wound. Something that would never fully heal, because there was no way to achieve closure over it. What’s lost is gone, and your powers were the cause.
“I was engaged once,” you dropped your gaze to your lap, looking at your hands and the way they were so well fitted with the green gloves. You practically never took them off. 
“Engaged?” 
“Yeah, engaged. I’d somehow managed to find the single man in the entire universe that didn’t require me to touch him to achieve his affection…” You trailed, trying not to go into detail. Searching for a small distraction, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, pulling loose threads to ignore the sad memories. “I touched him by accident.”
“And he died?” She widened her eyes, both upset for you and becoming more afraid of herself. She doesn’t want to fall in love, not if she’s going to hurt that person eventually. 
“He did,” you wiped your hand over your eyes before any tears could even fall, and then let it rest back in your lap. “But you’re not gonna make the same mistake that I did, I promise. I’ll help you.”
“You will?” Her eagerness to accept the assistance was clear. “Thank you.”
“Of course… and don’t give up hope. There could be someone out there that can withstand your powers just as they are.” 
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to offer such things to her, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Her brow furrowed, unsure if what you were saying was true. From your earlier words, you’ve been around a long time and it’s never happened for you. “Sounds impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” you told her, standing up from beside her on the bench. “Nothing is impossible.”
You left her on that note, and went back inside. 
-
On your way up to bed, you caught Logan in the hallway. You gave a tight lipped smile on the way to your door, expecting him to be cold like he was throughout the day… but he fell into stride next to you, walking to his own door. 
“You guys got anything good to drink around here?” he asked, partially as a joke, but usually never going without a drink for more than a day was catching up to him. 
“This is a school, Logan,” you turned to him with a laugh and a light smile. Maybe he’d struck out with Jean and was off her coattails now. 
“Well I can see that, but I figured with a limited number of adults chasing after a million kids, someone’s gotta be drinking at the end of the day,” he leaned against his door frame, and you had completely turned to face him, neglecting your door knob which you had reached for originally. 
You huffed a sigh, shaking your head at him. You may or may not have a bottle of Jack hidden where no one can find it. If anyone in this hell hole had a reason to drink it was you, but you never did it in front of the kids, or nearly anyone else. You reckon Charles or Ororo would march up to you if they found out, voicing their concern. 
“Stay quiet, and don’t say a word about this to anyone…” You opened the door, letting him follow you in before closing it and locking the knob. “Under the bed, back right corner.”
You allowed him to go fishing for it himself, going to your desk in the corner to make sure you were caught up on everything and prepared for tomorrow’s history quiz before you settled in for the night. He’d already been ready for bed, seemingly just roaming the halls and looking for alcohol at this late hour. 
“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”
“I surprised you, huh?” you ask, not even throwing a look over your shoulder. You may have an interest in this man, but since you started teaching here you were always efficient, and that wasn’t going to stop now. 
“Yeah, a little,” he chuckled, taking swigs straight from the bottle. It had been more than half full the last time you drank from it, so there was a decent amount. “You just seem like the innocent one.”
This made you drop what you were doing and spin your chair around. “Innocent?” 
He smirked at your furrowed brows, but having known of your mutation, he was willing to guess everything and even bet on it. “I believe that’s what I said.”
You tilted your head at him, the look on your face making him grin even more. 
“I don’t think I like that word,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and thinking of all the reasons why. “I’ve done and seen things that would be considered unfathomable to other people.”
“I don’t mean how dangerous you are, I mean how corrupted you are,” he kept on, another swig taken from the bottle. “And I think you’re innocent.”
“I still don’t like it,” you shook your head, laughing a little and reaching for the bottle, which he was all too happy to hand over, fingers brushing your gloved hands. “I prefer inexperienced.”
“Does it matter? It means the same thing,” he argued, watching you take a nice lengthy drink of the whiskey in your hand. 
“It does matter, actually,” you were all too happy to correct him. “Innocence implies that my mind is pure of corruption, but really, I’ve just never been able to do the things I’ve thought about.”
He rolled his eyes, taking back the bottle and trying to keep up with you. He pointed to your head with a swirling finger. “Yeah right, I’m sure you’re just all kinds of perverted up there.”
You just giggled and looked at him for a moment. He was funny, he was handsome, and he was clearly interested in your favorite choice of alcohol. Just more things to connect on, you supposed. Maybe feelings weren’t so far down the road, after all. 
You blinked out of it when you realized you’d been looking at his bare arms for too long, the beater he wore left little to the imagination as to how fit he was, and it was a nice view to take in, but not this late, and certainly not with a bottle of Jack. 
“I should be getting to bed soon, big test tomorrow…” you trailed, standing up and going to the door. It was late, no one else should be awake, but you still wanted to make sure. “You can take the whiskey for the road, if you want.”
“I’ll get you another one,” he returned, knowing that by the end of the night, the bottle was likely to be empty. He’d not had Jack Daniel’s in a while, so he was grateful for the favor. 
“No need,” you shook your head as he met you in the doorway, peering down and clearly shadowing you under his tall form. You had to take a breath and smile to break the tension you felt, as it was thick and heated. “I really should stop drinking here, anyway.”
“I’m happy to pick it up in your place,” he smirked, still standing right in front of you. If anyone had stepped out of their room, they’d see how close he was looming. 
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully, knowing full well that he could respond with an empty promise, and still be cold to you as he was today. 
“Yeah, I’ll see you.” 
And he left without another word.
-
You awoke in the middle of the night to chaos in the hallway. You were surprised not to be plagued with nightmares for once, but the screams of your next door neighbor didn’t exactly settle you back into your pillows. You heard footsteps outside your door, and when you sat up, Ororo opened the door without knocking, the urgency of whatever situation that had happened started to set in. 
“There’s been an accident,” she looked to you with an expression of fear and shock, leaving the doorway as soon as she could see you were scrambling to your feet.
You could feel the energy, it was all over the place. Kids were scared, and so were some of the adults, Ororo being one of them. You ran into the room, avoiding the touch of everyone you passed by, and stared at the scene playing out. 
“What happened?” you rushed over to where Jean and Scott were hovering over Logan, his unconscious body thrown over the bed and seemingly in a state of paralysis. 
“Rogue, she touched him,” Jean was working the best she could to try and keep him from death’s door, but even with her skilled hands, she looked afraid. “He’s fading quickly, she may have drained too much of his regeneration.”
You tried to think quickly on your feet. She drained his regenerative energy, but you could restore it. The manipulation of energy was clearly something you were all too familiar with, but you were afraid if his regeneration was too low that he might die from your mutation. 
If he’s already going to die, you’re going to do the only thing you know how to try and save him. 
“Jean, move,” you reach for him, and she practically dives out of the way of your bare hands. 
“You’ll kill him!”
“Just trust me,” you said, your hands finding his shoulders. You heard gasps behind you when your skin met his, and they all started whispering, assuming that if he wasn’t dead before, he definitely was now. 
You focused your energy on him, using what was inside of you and around you to build back up what had been inside of him. His mutation, his strength and endurance, and most of all, his healing capability. 
“Alice, he’s dead,” Scott nearly scolded you, shaking his head. He wasn’t fond of the man, but that didn’t mean he wished him to die… and now he had, by your hand or Rogue he wasn’t sure. “What did you do?” 
You ignored him, and all the ones whispering behind you. You could feel his life force, like a branch in the air around you, reaching out just the smallest bit, but not strong enough to hold growth yet. You were slowly building it, letting it stretch out until his own body could take it from there. 
When he took a sharp inhale of breath and his chest started to rise and fall again, everyone nearly fell over out of shock. No one said a word yet, because they were too stunned to speak. 
Logan was still in bad condition, but you trusted that his healing could help him out from here. You pulled him onto your lap, head resting against your body as you felt for a steady pulse, and saw the color returning to his hands and arms. 
“I got you,” you whispered, holding him close. This was the first person that you’d ever been able to save with your touch, as before, it killed everyone who came across it.
“Alice?” Jean called from behind your shoulder, her mouth still agape and her eyes wide. “Alice!”
You looked to her, only slightly fearful that she may tell Charles about this, and then you’ll be in for an earful. He was the hand that guided you along the terrible pathways of your life, but he was also the one who reprimanded you when need be. 
“He’s alright,” you promised her, but she still didn’t come closer. Scott however, was completely baffled and had a million questions. 
“How did you do that? You can’t touch anyone-”
“I can touch him,” you answered shortly, your arms still wrapped tight around his limp form. “Just him.”
Jean shook her head and snapped out of her train of thought. There was too much to be asked, but this was not the time for it. Logan still needed more treatment, despite the help you gave. You stood up to accommodate her, keeping your eyes on Logan and making sure he was still okay. You could feel his energy restacking, like building blocks in the air around you. 
“Start talking,” Scott pressed, the urgent situation now overshadowed by a need for answers. Ororo joined Scott in front of you, her expression holding more than just shock at this point. She looked nearly excited, but you couldn’t say why. 
“I know him,” you said, trying to start slowly, but knowing the two of them, it wouldn;t be good enough. “When Striker had us, he got Logan, too. He doesn’t remember it, but he saved my life… yours too, Scott.”
“That…” he trailed, shaking his head. He’d done the same thing that you’d done. He blocked it out of his memory. That didn’t mean that it didn’t happen. You just had a better reason to remember it. “That can’t be possible… he’s touched you before?” 
“He practically dragged me out of that cell,” you told him, and he recalled the day of the mutant prison break. He remembers a man helping them, but never imagined it could have been Logan. 
“How is it possible? I’ve seen you drop some of the most powerful mutants where they stand, no one survives being touched by you,” Ororo was the one to pitch in this time, her question not so much one of what, but how?
“His regenerative ability. The way Charles used to explain my powers to me, he said to think of my skin like a radioactive energy poison. When such a poison is absorbed into one’s body it can cause it to shut down. My powers work the same way, just a thousand times stronger and faster. The thing is,” you pointed behind you, where Logan was slowly gaining small bits of health. “His regen mutation never allows my energy to be absorbed… I can’t kill him.”
“Scott?” Jean called from the ground, trying and failing to lift Logan on her own. “Gonna need a little help here. I need him in the med bay.”
Scott shook off the conversation, focusing on the matter at hand. 
When Jean and Scott got Logan through the crowd of kids, they all dispersed back to their rooms. The only two remaining were you and Ororo. 
She stared at you for a moment, wondering if you were going to leave, but then watched as you shuffled around in Logan’s things, looking for what you leant to him. You were hoping by some miracle that there would be some left. 
“Aha,” you let out, grabbing the bottle from inside the dresser drawer, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. There wasn’t much, but there was enough to ease your mind at this late hour. “Want some?” 
“You really think this is a good time to be drinking?” she scoffed, crossing her arms and watching you fall back onto the foot of his bed. 
“I think it’s the perfect time to be drinking,” you held it out to her, wondering if she’d actually take it. 
She tried to keep her adult habits outside of the school, but these were tumultuous times, and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to allow it under the circumstances. 
Out of the silence, she turned to you, right as you took your next slow gulp of the smooth liquor. 
“So,” her pause and sigh were unneeded. You knew what she was about to be getting on about. “You can touch him…”
“Yep,” you looked at her, a thin lipped smile on your face. You really didn’t have much else to say, but she did. 
“I know you never got over Charlie,” she spoke gently, not wanting to pinch a nerve, or bring up bitterness in a moment like this. The calm after the storm, no pun intended. “But maybe this is your chance…”
“A chance to what?” 
“You know what I’m talking about,” she leaned into your eyeline, still careful to stray from any of your exposed skin. 
“Yeah,” you muttered, “I know.” And then with the last swig in the bottle, you felt the warmth of the drink, and the tiniest bit of a buzz. “I don’t think Logan’s that kinda guy.”
“You don’t think he’d commit to a relationship?” 
“I don’t think he’d commit to me,” you corrected, shrugging your shoulders. You wished you had more to drink after that revelation, but unfortunately, this empty bottle contained the only bit of alcohol on the entire property. 
“He seems loyal, maybe you just need to know him better,” she encouraged, bumping her clothed shoulder with yours. Always a kind gesture, one of friendship and to show she held no fear of you like others did. 
“He doesn’t even know himself,” you chuckled a little. It may have been a bit of a mean joke to make, because you can’t even imagine how hard it is for him, but still you laugh, because you know him better than he does. “I know who he was that day.”
“When he saved you?” 
“Yeah, saved everyone,” you dropped your head, focusing on your hands and trying to keep your mind from falling down any bunny trails. “He was a hero. I think he still might be.”
“You should tell him that.”
“I did,” you chuckled, tossing the whiskey bottle back into the soft pillows of the bed to rid your hands of it. “He didn’t believe a word I was telling him…”
She sighed, knowing that with your stubbornness, and your fear of hurting people, you may opt to keep him at arms length, regardless of his ability to touch you. She knew about Charlie, and what you did to him. She knew you’d sworn off love since that day, over a hundred years ago… but she still had hope that this could turn into a part of your happiness. 
“Don’t give up on him so fast, alright?” She asked, her eyes turning to that of a puppy dog, pulling at your heart and nearly making you comply. 
“I won’t.”
-
Rogue went missing the next day, and while you’d been chomping at the bit to find her, you were unfortunately called to the office of the professor. You wondered if you were in for a stern talking to after the previous night’s events. 
“Take a seat,” he began, staring out the open window at the setting sun, and the children on property who were playing in the grass before dark. 
You did as you were told, not because you wanted to, but because you respected Charles enough to listen to whatever diatribe he was about to drone on. 
“I’ve had quite a few people visit my office today on your account,” he turned his chair around, his face not one of disappointment like you thought it would be. He didn’t look upset at all, nor did he look like he was going to reprimand you for being careless with your abilities. “I must say, I was surprised to hear of what happened.”
“I know it was careless of me,” you defended, unknowing if it was even necessary, but wanting to cover your bases, anyways. “But I can explain.”
“There’s no need to put up an argument, my dear.”
“There’s not?” 
He chuckled and shook his head, a small smile spreading over his cheeks. “Not at all. In fact, I’m actually quite happy for you.”
“Happy for me?” you asked another question, the reasoning for your visit becoming more unclear. 
“I know how long you’ve suffered,” he sighed, his tone returning to something more serious. “I have felt your anger and bitterness towards your abilities. I’ve sensed your hatred of them for years.”
“That was before,” you tried to interject, to tell him how thankful you were for his training. “But you taught me they were not just a curse, but also a blessing.”
“And do you really think I believe you when you say it? Miss Beckett, I’ve known you more than half my life… I can read your mind without entering it by now.”
You knew that if anyone could understand you it was him. You could feel other’s energy, but when he entered someone’s mind he could feel that and so much more. He could feel emotions, think that person’s thoughts, and even see what they see. 
“You knew all this time, then?” 
“I did,” he nodded, but didn’t stop there. “I knew that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t change your burdens.”
You ducked your head, thinking back to the times you’d lied, telling everyone that things were better. Truthfully, as a person you felt less alone, less hated and less dangerous… but you never felt loved. You couldn’t. No one could, or wanted to touch you, knowing your mutation.
“Scott told me about Logan, how you’d all met once before,” he said, turning the conversation back around to that of a better note. “When you’d repressed the memories of what Agent Striker had done, you’d forgotten him… but you didn’t forget what he did for you, and you didn’t forget a special detail.”
“He touched me,” you filled in the blank, waiting for him to continue. 
“Precisely.”
“I think…” you trailed, unsure of where this chat was going to lead. If Ororo had come to him, you were sure the thoughts exchanged the night before had come up, even if it was just meant to help you. “I think he may have feelings for… someone else.”
Charles nodded, he’d not purposely looked into Logan’s mind, but when Jean was stirring restlessly in the late evening, he took a peek inside hers, seeing the struggle to combat Logan and his advances.
“I understand,” he responded, but thought it was worth mentioning what he knew. “But his advances are pointless.”
“I still don’t want to get my hopes up,” you reasoned, a good point to be made considering his behavior towards you. “I’m getting too old for shit like this, you know?”
His understanding went without saying, he remembers your past, and knows of the only person you ever truly loved. It was a story for the ages with a tragic ending that would even make the bravest of men shed a tear. 
“Of course.”
You waited for him to dismiss you, and when he nodded to you in finality, you stood up from your seat. 
“Stay open minded, my dear, you don’t know where your path may lead.”
You hummed in acknowledgement, giving him a smile as you left the room. 
“Thank you, Charles.”
First Ororo, and now Charles. Your biggest cheerleaders since they met you… you love them both, and want to listen to them, but you are older therefore wiser, and must protect yourself from things that aren’t good for you. Everyday you grow older but your face and body stay the same. Your mentality weakens when you realize you’ve still got so much life to live, and it burdens you more when you struggle to live it alone. Having someone by your side would be the answer to your every prayer, the reason you could keep going. But you know you can’t endure another heartbreak, you won’t survive it. 
-
It’s been days, nearly a week. Your mind is frazzled, and you think that maybe it’s time for a break. A quiet time to let your mind rest and restore itself. 
So much has happened, and you can’t put your finger on what was the most stressful part of it all. The quickness, the escalation, the chaos… or what it almost cost you. 
Erik is temporarily defeated, but you know he’ll keep at it in the future. There were several mutants in his gathering that were unapprehended after the final battle. It will make for an interesting hunt that the X-men get to pursue.
One of which you wouldn't mind letting go about her business for a while. You knew Mystique when she went by Raven. 
So much has changed since then, and you've changed with the time gone by.
There's still something on your mind after everything that's happened this week, and of course that something is Logan. His past, his present, and what he wants to do with his future. 
He’s an X-man now, a part of the team and a member of the mutant family… but he searches for who he is, and you can sympathize with that, especially because of what he did for you. He didn’t just do it for you, but with the state you were in, he could have passed your cell, given up on you. Instead, he practically carried you out of that prison, never knowing how lethal your touch was. He saved you and gave you the greatest gift you’d received. Hope. A fresh start. The thought that life didn’t have to be such a burden. 
The kids were settled in early this evening, after the late night that was pulled the day prior, they needed to catch up on their rest… but Logan was having a hard time sleeping. You were, too. 
It was about eleven when he came knocking on the door, softly so nobody else would hear him. Ororo was behind the door next over from yours, her light on beneath the slit in that door, and he mentally kicked himself for even doing this at all, so late at night. 
When you cracked open your own door, peeking through to see who it was, you were surprised at the man standing in the doorway. 
“Logan? What are you doing up? It’s late…”
“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, just above the level you were speaking at, voice barely audible. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You were unsure of what there was to talk about, really. It had been radio silence since the mission, and you figured he wanted some space after something like that… it wasn’t unusual for an X-man, but you didn’t know him as well, so you didn’t know what you were supposed to expect. 
“Can I come in?” he asked, and it was only now that you realized you’d been frozen in your spot, a furrowed brow worn on your face. 
“Yeah, sorry.”
You closed the door behind him when he passed through, going back to your bed to sit down. He followed suit, and it was nearly a reverse image of the first night he arrived. 
“I wanted to thank you,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound grateful. “For saving my life. Jean told me what you did.”
You smiled a little and scoffed, shaking your head and waving him off. “Don’t thank me… I actually endangered your life.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I? Whatever you did, it saved me.”
“I had no idea that it would, it could have gone either way,” you argued, not for the sake of being right, but because you didn’t want him to think you’d done something extraordinary or heroic. You were actually being quite selfish in your actions. 
“You like to argue a lot, huh?” he teased, remembering the last one on one conversation you both had. You would admit, you didn’t like being wrong. You’d gotten it in your head that after being alive for so long, you ought to know more than everyone. 
“Well, I am a lawyer,” you shrugged, a slight smirk on your face. You’d never practiced in a firm, or even got a law related job, but you liked to remind people of it here and there, it was always entertaining. 
“I noticed that certificate on your wall the other night, noticed em’ all, actually…” he trailed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check and make sure they were all still there. He’d come to the conclusion that you were intelligent the first time you met, your dialect being very formal for the age he thought you were… but above that, you carried yourself in a way that spoke to being knowledgeable. 
“Oh, those?” you laughed, tilting your head and making a silly face in their direction. “Those are nothing, just reminders of all the times I’ve been bored.”
“Bored? You’re kidding me,” he mused, crossing his arms and chuckling. 
“Maybe I also wanted to better myself a little,” you answered truthfully, rolling your eyes after getting it out. He didn’t seem like the scholarly type. Not a bad thing by any means, but you were sure his abilities far accelerated him in other occupations before he ended up here.
“Well whatever the reason, you’ve clearly done good,” he complimented, and you were certainly not complaining. Getting compliments from your friends, from your mutant family, it uplifted you… but getting a compliment from him? It felt different, more weighted. “And whatever you did to save me, that was good too.”
“I didn’t even know it would work,” you huffed, looking down at your hands. You hadn’t touched him since he came in, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were doing so purposely, or if you just hadn’t gotten the opportunity. “I honestly thought I might kill you faster…”
“Then why would you have tried it?” He couldn’t believe you. A smart girl like you, with the power you held? It seemed out of character to make a decision like that.
“Honestly?” you raised your brows, thinking of a sentence that didn’t sound weird, or selfish. “I was scared you were gonna die before I could know you.”
He tilted his head slightly in confusion. “You want to know me?” 
“I do,” you nodded with a sheepish smile. Thank God for the darkness in the room, because you’re sure your face is turning red. “I mean, it’s not everyday that I meet someone I can shake hands with, so…”
He laughed a little, reaching out playfully for a handshake. You smiled wide, taking his hand and giving it a nice firm shake. You’ve shaken hands when wearing gloves, but it’s just not the same. You’ve touched others while wearing them, too. But the skin contact you’ve always been deprived of, it’s something that sends chills down your spine, no matter how simple the gesture is. Even just a handshake. 
“I’d like you to know me too, but there’s just one problem with that,” he sighs, shaking his head in a bit of something akin to sadness. “I don’t know me.”
You can’t stand to see that look on his face. His hand was still wrapped around yours, now resting on his knee and near your lap. An idea springs to your mind, and though it’s a terrible one, you think about all the good it could produce in the long run. 
“What if I could help you remember?” You suggested, grabbing his attention almost immediately. “You’ve said you don’t remember anything past fifteen years ago… that’s when you saved me from Striker.”
“You think you could help me?” 
“I can try, I owe it to you.” Your reasoning made him turn the idea over in his head, but he wasn’t sure of how you planned to help him, exactly. “Something must have happened that day to make you forget… we can go back to the base, look for answers, see if anything triggers your memories?” 
It was a bold move, but you had to take it. No matter what happened the other night, you still owe him your life, and this could be a way to even the playing field. 
“You’d take me there?” he asked sincerely, a bit surprised that you would even offer, considering what he knew of your time in that prison. You shouldn’t want to return at all, but what’s worse is you want to do it for him. 
“I would… If you want me to.” 
He grinned, his look of bewilderment still laced in. “I would be grateful, if you could.”
“It’s settled then.”
He nodded to you, and you both gave a glance to the door. It was time to say goodnight, though you wanted him to stay and talk till sunrise. You had so many questions, about him, about his life since Striker, and even about his abilities… but it would have to wait till another time. 
He got up, and you followed, getting to the door before you heard voices outside of it. 
“It’s Ororo,” you sighed, turning to him and huffing. “I don’t know who she’s talking to…”
“I better not let her see me sneaking around this late,” he said, looking back at you with a comical expression. “I have a feeling that she’ll tattle on me.”
“You’re right, she would.” You stood with your ear to the door, hearing that the other voice in the hall was Jean. They were talking about you, and you figured it was not a good time to let the Wolverine go traipsing out of your room. “You know, you don’t have to go… if you don’t want to. You could just stay here tonight.”
His smirk held a bout of confidence before he spoke, “You sure I’m not crowding your space?” 
“I’ve got plenty of room,” You nodded to the queen bed you’d stood up from. In all truthfulness, it was a big bed to sleep in alone, and you’d been forced to for over a decade. “You also just happen to be the only person who wouldn’t die if I accidentally kicked you in the middle of the night.”
He laughed, nodding his head. He didn’t want to leave in the first place, he just felt like maybe he’d been imposing. Tough luck on that, because if you had your way, he’d stay longer than just the night. 
“With an argument like that, how can I say no?” 
“I might not sleep for a while, though… so if you wanna turn in, be my guest,” you sat back on the bed, shoving your walkman with the headphones to your side so he could settle in next to you. 
“Couldn’t really sleep already, that's why I came here in the first place.” He started eyeballing the walkman, scooting in closer to where you sat, legs crossed and back against your pillows and headboard. “You got music?” 
“Oh, uh… yeah, just a little mixtape I’ve been listening to.” 
You’d just rewound the tape earlier, and almost put it over your ears when you found you couldn’t sleep. Maybe it would have settled the noise in your brain… but Logan seemed to do a pretty good job of that, too.
“May I?” He gently reached for the set, and your heart stuttered in beat when you saw the sweet look in his eyes.
“Yeah, of course,” You handed it over with a smile, no hesitation, even though this new mixtape was built primarily on the feelings for him you’d been fighting. “It’s mostly just girl stuff…”
He put the headphones on and started listening, and you felt a bit awkward just watching him listen to the music, unsure if he would piece anything together or not. 
The first song played was Fields of Gold by Sting… just a soft ballad that made you think of what life might be like if things were different. 
By the second song, you pulled the plug of the headphones, letting the music play softly through the speaker instead so you could both hear it. It felt much better when you could listen to the music yourself. Music always calmed you down, made you feel more at ease.
You helped him fast forward through some of the songs he seemed bored during, but he stopped you on a few, nodding his head and smiling as the music filled his ears. 
“You like this one?” You asked, watching him start tapping his fingers to the song I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss.
“This is my kinda music, right here,” he laughed, letting loose a little, breaking down his tough exterior just slightly so you could see the softness lurking behind. 
The noise from outside your door had long gone, but Logan didn’t seem eager to leave whatsoever… you did after all invite him to stay. 
When the song Wicked Game came on, you opted to skip it, and he grabbed the tips of your fingers to pull your hand away and ask why. The intro kept playing, the somber guitar filling the air between you. 
“It’s a sad song, kinda haunting,” you explained, but the real reason you were trying to skip it was because you’d rewound this one a bit too much when thinking about him, the lyrics seeming to match up to every time you looked at him the way you were now. “It’s not as fun as the others.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, taking the walkman and holding it so that you couldn’t skip the song yet. 
World was on fire, and no one could save me but you
Strange what desire will make foolish people do
You looked up at him and he seemed to really be into the music, but his brow was furrowed, like he was thinking about it in real time. 
I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you
You had to look away from him for a moment, your face turning red and your eyes falling to your lap.
And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you
No, I don’t wanna fall in love
No, I don’t wanna fall in love… with you
You took a glance back up, seeing his face and the way it seemed to turn almost upset by the lyrics. You almost thought about reaching for the walkman, but his death grip on it looked too strong to break. 
“The next one is pretty good,” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood. He broke out of his trance and nodded, handing the device back to you. 
The smooth and laid back energy returned to the room, and you could feel the peace of it engulfing you as you absorbed the energy from the air. It fed you, made you stronger, happier. 
You couldn’t even help yourself by the time it got to the end of the playlist, the last song making you quietly sing aloud in front of someone you barely know… which was strange considering you wouldn’t even sing in front of your dearest and closest friends. 
The song just did that to you… it used to remind you of a love you once lost, but because of the lyrics, you were starting to associate the beautiful melody with another face. The one looking back at you with a small lip tug of a smile. 
The song in question? More Than Words by Extreme. 
You didn’t look at him when you sang it, because you were already falling too hard, too fast. You needed to slow down… but just thinking about the lyrics… 
More than words, is all you have to do to make it real
Touching someone for the first time is more than words can express… sitting side by side with someone without fear of hurting them means more than words could possibly say.
When the song ended you stopped the tape, setting it to rewind and putting it over on your bedside table. 
“Not bad… that last one, I’ve heard it a few times somewhere else. It’s pretty good.”
“Yeah, I like it better than the others,” you said jokingly, as if he couldn’t already tell by how easily the words came out of your mouth. “Saved the best for last, right?” 
“I’d say so,” he wouldn’t look anywhere else but you, and you felt so powerless under his stare. You were folding in record time, and honestly at this point, you’d count it as a miracle if you made it out of this night without ruining it all.
“You tired yet?” you asked, changing the subject and pulling back your sheets. 
“I’m getting there…” 
His soft and pretty hazel eyes were starting to make you wish you’d not invited him. He was making this difficult. You wanted to know him, and not just physically. There would be time for that, but you had to wait and make sure he was the one.  You weren’t willing to let yourself love him to the ends of the earth if you weren’t going to be able to keep him. It would just haunt you for the rest of your long and burdened life.
“Me too, but uh… I’m gonna try and finish my book,” you smiled, reaching for the novel on your bedside table. Fahrenheit 451. “So, just turn in whenever you’re tired.”
He debated asking you about the book, but ultimately decided that he’d bothered you enough for one night. It seemed like something he might research himself, if it was something you like. You obviously have good taste in music, maybe he ought to give reading the same books as you a try. 
He’d never admit it, because it wasn’t like him to do such a thing, but he liked being around you. Liked touching you. The energy you gave off was pleasant, and every time your skin connected, he absorbed a little bit of it from you. Something that would kill anyone else, he got to experience first hand. 
He smiled and lied down, giving a glance over his shoulder before he settled in. Your bed was warmer than his, more comfortable, too. “G’night, Alice.”
Your grin compared to his was like a young schoolgirl, completely and utterly lovestruck for the boy you met last week. 
“Night, Logan.”
Tags: @ayamenimthiriel @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing
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alipeeps · 3 hours ago
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Episode 24
Welp, he did what they suggested. He went to see for himself.
I've said it before but it bears repeating - this kid is SUCH a good actor!
Jesus fucking christ, Wen Zongyu is the worst.
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He took a grieving child and:
manipulated him into spying against his friends and poisoning one of them:
intended from the start to use his body as a vessel for a demon;
fucking poisoned him so that he would be able to control said demon once it was in his body!!
Oooh but your little demon trapping cage didn't work on our boy Li Lun?
So... could it actually end up now that Li Lun and the gang will band together against Wen Zongyu? The enemy of my enemy and all that?
Can't Zhao Yuanzhou use his healing ability on him?
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Oh SHIT, the sword being broken affects/damages the person connected to it?
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So they NEED that second sword!! Anybody else remember that it was explicitly mentioned that TWO cloud light swords were forged? Anyone?!!
And that confirms that the reason the sword cracked this time is because of the malicious qi - every other time Zhu Yan has been stabbed with the sword, he has been in control of his qi.
However... doesn't that mean that the plan/back up plan to kill Zhu Yan if he is out of control is doomed to failure, because the uncontrolled qi will crack the sword?
OUCH
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Ying Lei is so fucking under-rated... they play him for comedy so much of the time but he has genuinely been the one coming up with a lot of the solutions for things. He found how to purify the Yao Water. He worked out that Bai Jiu's blood could revive the Divine Wood. And he's thought to ask the other mountain gods about ways to save both Zhuo Yichen and Bai Jiu. He is best boy!!
Uhhhh... yeah... sliiiight problem there...
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Okay so we have a way to keep him going a bit longer... while you find the second sword, right? Right?!
Good on you Pei Sijing.
He is the best!!
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Oh damn, he survived.
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And Wen Zongyu has the gall to act pleased about it - as if he wasn't callously offering his position to Pei Sijing a matter of days ago.
"Thank you for your treatment"
"Better than I was before"
Did... did Wen Zongyu use his fucking experimental treatments on him? Is he a hybrid now?
"According to the spy" What spy? Just a generic spy keeping an eye on things... or is there another traitor in their midst?
Oh dang, that's fucked up your plans eh? Bummer. Sucks to be you.
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Oh wow, that is freaky. It's Bai Jiu... but he's dressed and hair-styled Li Lun-style.
Ohhh that doesn't sound good...
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Oh dang, his brother didn't have the right Bingyi blood to awaken the sword?!
But... but didn't we see it glowing in his (dead) hand when Zhu Yan wiped out the Demon Hunting Bureau? Or was that just the sword reacting to Zhu Yan's presence?
Ahhhh was it Zhu Yan they were going after? Probably... how many Great Demons are there after all?
Yup, it was, and the sword glowed in response to Zhu Yan's presence.
No wonder Zhuo Yichen didn't know how to use the cloud light sword properly... I'd thought it was because his dad and brother had died before they had chance to teach him... but they never could have taught him because they didn't have the power to awaken it and use it to its full potential...
Oh SHIT and he finds out about his brother's death by someone bringing him the damn sword?!! Wrapped in a blood-stained cloth. Like... harsh, dude?!!
And he dedicated his life to becoming strong enough to awaken the sword, to honor his brother...
I'm not crying, you're crying!!
His tears awakened it?
Goddamn the music in this show is just perfect...
Oh shit.
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OH SHIT!
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Wtf's going on with the fish pond?
Wtf is this, that's been hiding in the fish pond all this time?!
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Of course it is. And of course it's been at the bottom of the fish pond for fucking generations. Where else would you keep it?!
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Oh it can repair everything can it?
WHY do they just fucking stand there and let it happen?!!
Oh Zhu Yan did react! Hallelujah!
He sure did.
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Did what? You are in this situation because of your own actions! It was literally YOUR plan to break the baize token, get unsealed, and then take over Bai Jiu's body because you knew your own body would burn up!
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Okay wtf why did the stone suddenly break?
Can this show please stop giving us a teensy glimpse of hope and then ripping it away from us again?!!
Honestly the stone's a bit shit if all it takes to crumble it is the merest touch of demonic energy?
And what the fuck is this now? There was blood at the centre of the stone? Is it the famous Bingyi blood?
And it's gone zooming into Zhuo Yichen? Whose eyes have gone blue like in the flashbacks to his ancestor?
Oh damn... did I hear that right? The demon Ying Long agreed to die at Bingyi's hand... for the greater good?
OH WHAT?!!!
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Ying Lei be like:
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Ahhh my poor precious baby mountain god! He's too too good!
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Way to be a downer, Zhu Yan.
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So it wasn't Bingyi blood? It was demon blood? Unless...?
Because Ying Long sacrificed himself to save the world. Sound familiar, anyone?
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Ho hoooooo! Yes indeedy, Zhuo Yichen's ancestor was also a demon... and the famous Bingyi blood is - demon blood! (So I guess maybe it was Bingyi blood inside the stone after all?)
And members of Zhuo Yichen's family were only strong enough to activate the cloud light sword if they had enough demon Bingyi bloodline in them, I guess? And Zhuo Yichen does... which is probably also why he kept dreaming about turning into a demon, I am guessing?
Ohhhhh and we finally get an explanation of how come Zhuo Yichen let Ao Yin get away if he wasn't being controlled by Li Lun!!
He wasn't controlled... he was shocked (mind you, why on earth he would believe a demon's word on that, enough to be shocked to a standstill by it and let them escape?)
So the Great Demon Bingyi was turned human...
And he lived in seclusion... and his descendants...
SO... he wasn't all THAT secluded then eh? 😂
It allows them to choose? So he gets to choose if he remains human or becomes demon? But what do you want to bet he will end up in a situation where becoming demon is the only option to save everyone, so he'll do it?
Oh mind you, no, doesn't sound like there is any choice...
Oh holy shit, is there ANY good news for us, Zhu Yan?!!
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So now Zhuo Yichen is condemned to death on 2 fronts - the broken sword AND the Bingyi demon blood.
How the fuck are Chongwu spies able to so easily sneak right into the core of Demon Hunting Bureau to eavesdrop? Do you people have ANY fucking security at all?
You said it girl!
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Well DUH, of course he's bloody disappeared while you idiots were chitchatting!!
Oh dang...
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Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah 😭😭
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Aww bless her, she has understood the meaning behind his words...
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Oh shit!
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AAaaaahhhh! You end it THERE?!!
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cbsghostsmetasandtrevor · 3 days ago
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CBS Ghosts 4x4 Live Reaction
I heard this one is about Trevor :)
So... read under the cut for spoilers.
LOL Sass watching a branch falling????
Aww poor ghosts. "We could start a rumor."
Pete walked right into that one. Love Pete's new abilities. I'd Brag too.
Sass totally deserved to made fun of!
Sam giving Isaac advice. - OMG.
OMG Trevor just announcing a job.
"MOM AND DAD"
"A great time to be a ghost job" - I love this.
"People have lives" - "You're dead".
LOL Sam and Jay weren't even mad. Just surprised. And he doesn't even ask for help????
There's already too many plots though. Three with Rumors/Isaac/Trevor all have plots.
LOL at the Rumor thing though. Thor is SPOILING EVERYTHING!
OMG Jay being Trevor. Please! I love how he's so proactive. No one has asked about his salary???
Sam is on board! She's excited for this.
LOL Alberta "What the hell is this?"
TREVOR IS OFFERING THEM MONEY! SO DIFFERENT TO ISAAC I LOVE HIM!
OMG MICHEAL JACKSON?? WHY TREVOR???
Like Trevor just wants to keep his job and is willing to help (like he always does) and Isaac just makes things worse.
I love how the FOUNTAIN is the important thing here?
Where's Flower? Have we seen her?
Why is no one really reacting the whole job thing??
Wow. They're terrible. This is terrible!
"Lock your door Dave"
Nancy with the rumor. Isaac with the freakout. Jay looking bad.
LOL Thor yelling that at Bjorn. LOL.
Isaac slapping Pete????
WTF!
Isaac this is your fault not Pete!
Sam's getting into being the lonely innkeeper.
LOL Alberta!
Oooh, Jay taking the ear piece out. OMG SAM!
Jay being the winner! and cooler... awwww. They like Jay.
Awww Trevor :(
I hate this. Why beat up on Trevor?
Can't he have a good episode??? Like All he wants is a fucking job. So sad.
This might've been more fun if Trevor possessed Jay.
Awww, Jay you are not helpful.
Poor Trevor. This hurts.
"Did you see Parade?"
Awww, Trevor. It's nice of Sam to try and help. Jay talking to him AFTER he leaves.
F OFF Jay. There's nothing wrong with that.
I like Jay feeling bad though.
"Cheesed off." "Slap them with my words!!!!" LOL
The ghosts jealousy!!!
Awww Trevor. Love the eye roll.
Awww JAY. Talking about Trevor as a mentor!
T- Money??? OMG you do??
Sam's got a twin now?
AWWWW he's a legend!!! AND THEY KNOW THE STORY ABOUT PINKUS!!!
AWWW!!! I love this!!!
He's actually REMEMBERED!! What all of the Ghosts WANT he GOT!!!
THE RUN OF FUN TO REMEMBER TREVOR!!! OMG!!!
OMG!!! This is so great!!!
Okay, the episode made up for the sad part in the middle!! Cute, Sad Trevor gets a happy ending!!!
WAIT WAIT WAIT DOES THIS MEAN THEY WORK FOR PINKUS????
PINKUS MADE SURE HE WAS REMEMBERED!!! <3 <3 <3
I love you, Pinkus. We need to see you!!!!
Love Pete was excited until finding out that she was a murderer!!! LOVE IT!
Poor Pete.
Nancy and Judy yelling!!!
LOL the rumors continue!
Flower was missing???
Overall, the ending made up for it, but there were slightly too many plots. I think we should've spent more time on Sam and Jay being like "how the fuck" with the whole "I have a job thing" and wondering what he's been doing with the money.
OTOH he's the ONLY ghost to HELP THEM GET MONEY.
This is the third time - first, the watch. second, the investing of Isaac's money. and third, giving his earned money for helping.
This is the third season that he's saved Sam's life too. He's clearly the best ghost.... JS.
I do love Jay coming up with something that made it all better, but please drop the issue with Bela. PLEASE.
Ended up loving it! <3.
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ohposhers · 12 days ago
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keep putting oc requests in my ask box and im gonna start turning your ocs into shitposts guys
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forcedhesitation · 9 months ago
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stop fucking flirting with me, you rancid little man
#bg3#thoughts about media#never had this dialogue before. durge exclusive or...??#either way- I'm lying astarion. please keep talking about murder. it does something for me personally.#also LMAO at him “hiding” his vampirism. baby I can SEE your fangs and bite mark. you aren't hiding shit.#imagining him asking corydalis this and corydalis having to explain that decapitating him would be difficult due to his scaly skin.#with the parasite- his abilities are weakened and thus he can actually be poisoned whereas normally he is immune.#he'd admit he's always been curious what it's like to be poisoned lol.#you know. despite only having fully beat the game once- I have nearly 500 hrs in bg3.#I've half finished many campaigns. and now. when I must begin an adventure with no corydalis to return to...#...well it hurts. it is not the same without him...I will forever treasure him and experiencing the story alongside him.#this new character is a durge. aaaanother tiefling because I enjoy them. he isn't Actually the durge lorewise though.#I had my own story already formulated for him. even before I made him in game. I think I still want to keep him a bhaalspawn though.#if not bhaal- he'll be tied to myrkul. since corydalis has existing beef with myrkul.#he's got body type 1 instead of 2 and goodness it is SO strange to Look Up To the gents. like what do you MEAN they are TALL?!#astarion is like a little mouse. he is not supposed to be tall! wyll has transmasculine short king allure. he is not supposed to be tall!#gale can be a LITTLE tall. I guess. but he's such a sopping wet cat of a man. I can hardly imagine him being THAT tall.#none of them are taller than corydalis! bar halsin and karlach of course.
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scientia-rex · 9 months ago
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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suga-kookiemonster · 4 months ago
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Sameeeeeeeee! I rewatched first class not too long ago, I was like hold up why is magneto the villain he right. Back then I was too young to see his vision lol
i've always seen his vision! this movie just made it perfectly clear to the point where i was like...is their intention to make me side with professor x and all his hypocritical kumbaya bullshit? cause they're not doing a good job 🤣 magneto is completely justified, let him cook
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transmasc-tabris · 4 months ago
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More screenshots (bonus, managed to find Bull a shirt and don't know how to feel about that)
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#anyway i continue to Lavellan post because i did some stuff and I'm tired now anyway. thinking about the beginning of the game and#how he's mostly leaning into the herald bullshit because he thinks it'll help him belong here and make people like him and how#devastatingly it's going to hit him after in your heart shall burn (I'm basically leaning into it as much as#possible without establishing him as faithful since it's more difficult to make Leliana pope that way but in my head#he took every 'yeah I'm herald I'm heralding so much andraste right now' option besides one with cass and one with Leliana)#like. he doesn't even really believe it but most people either like hearing it or if they react negatively it's in a way that still#acknowledges him as in charge so he'll roll with that. but then. everything in YHTB happens and it's just like. Oh. Oh Shit. like#it was this mix of bullshitting for fun and saying what people wanted to hear and kind of believing that maybe he was chosen by#Something at least. and like. it's not like he didn't do anything on his own or at least without any special abilities but then#The classic seeing all that be swept aside. realizing how this is going to be remembered because it's already happening. maybe#he should have known that the second he was asked if there was room for more among his gods.#but then. what do you expect. his first memory is being discarded (that's not entirely what it was but that's how his child brain#precessed it) and practically going feral because of it and then. having So Much catching up to do when it came to. basically every#aspect of being a person#and like. he was accepted along with Rella but that still gets to you. especially since. sure he didn't fully understand what it means to#be pitied but he could still recognize that from others. could still want to prove he was Better Than That. could still want to shatter tha#sheet of glass between himself and seemingly everyone else (even Rella to be honest. if only because she almost left him behind too). how#would he not lean into being seen as something special. whether he fully believed the narrative others were spinning or not#i dunno i see a lot of people talking about their Lavellan pushing back against the narrative from the start but i kind of like the#idea of going along with it. thinking it won't get that far and surely he can correct it if it does. he's in charge after all. right? only#to get hit harder than an avalanche by the realization that he's not in control after all. he can direct as many forces as he wants#but he can't change how he'll be remembered. how he's already being remembered. and he contributed to it too? i dunno his specific#combination of pride and insecurity and need to just Belong. to just belong as himself. is. compelling#If anyone is reading this Ive seen posts about all Lavellans having the same personality but no one's elaborated? am i just doing that?#i actually want to know. you know. assuming anyone is reading this.#i dunno just thinking about his continuous need to prove himself for so many reasons (partially because of Rella too since#yeah Rella is a mage but not the first or anything. she's just there because people knew she had nowhere else to go). okay I'll shut up now#but yeah what is this Standard Lavellan Personality i keep hearing about?#original posts#but like. something something he's being discarded again but he understands it this time and he can't fight it and just
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wuxian-vs-wangji · 4 months ago
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You are like the one blog I follow that doesn't whine about age gaps between Thai BL actors or characters, and bless you for it. So sick of the discourse.
Yeah, age gaps don't bother me one bit.
One of the family cousins married her own father's lifelong best friend, 35 year age gap, and they're perfectly happy.
As long as everyone is an adult, I really don't care.
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sharkface · 1 month ago
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I do not think people are understanding that for people in the Carolinas there was no naive and stupid choice to stay in the hurricane instead of evacuating, the Carolinas are regularly hit by hurricanes after they've tanked in severity, no one communicated to them that it was going to get this bad. This isn't "rich people from florida" beach house antics, these are overwhelmingly rural and poor areas full of people with no flood infrastructure, no warning, and nowhere to go. It is impossible to truly toll the death this has caused, hundreds of people are missing, emergency services are having to leave corpses behind because there are so many more living people to deal with. And this is the people who had homes, who had the physical ability to try to escape! Nobody told them this would happen. This is what it looks like to have no emergency weather preparedness, no warning, in terrain that will trap you where you are. This is the mountains we're talking about- All water flows straight into the river valleys where most people live, and seeking higher ground risks you mudslides and rock slides, the ground will fall out from underneath you. This is going to keep happening, and nobody is going to care until it's their problem- And then they're gonna ask why no one is helping.
A lot of places to donate are evangelical groups that will keep more of your money than distribute aid (all while using the disaster to recruit), if you are looking into an org to donate to PLEASE AVOID THESE, THEY ARE NOT GOING TO BE HELPFUL IN A DISASTER SCENARIO, ANY OTHER CHARITY IS PREFERABLE, they're rarely helpful to their community under normal circumstances. Seek out individual people in need to send aid directly if you can, I'm positive a lot of gofundmes will be popping up in the near future as cities begin to regain power, otherwise the Red Cross is always taking donations and has historically provided the most relief for natural disaster survivors, you can also donate to United Way of Asheville and Buncombe County, an org run by officials in Asheville, which is one of the most immediately endangered areas of western NC and greatly in need of drinkable water.
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ampleappleamble · 9 months ago
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haven't seen this on here yet so:
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in case you don't want to slog through the shitscape that is the bird/letter website, take a peek beneath the cut (shamelessly copied from the something awful forums dungeon meshi thread)
- Her first memory of video games was watching her father playing Wizardry on Famicom, also Dragon Quest, Ultima, and Fire Emblem among others.
- She was a difficult child so her parents didn't let her play. Wizardry is a boring game to watch, but the monster illustrations on the walkthrough evoked her imagination and made her keep watching.
- She only started becoming a serious gamer after the serialization of Dungeon Meshi was locked, for research purposes. Before that, she read fantasy novels such as The Neverending Story (Michael Ende) and The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien).
- The international title for Dungeon Meshi: Delicious in Dungeons was decided by her editor.
- D&D popped up a lot when she researched the history of video games, so she read the rule books, replay novels, and games inspired by D&D.
- One of the first games she studied was the Legend of Grimrock (game's 80% off on Steam atm). Originally, she wanted Dungeon Master (FTL Games) which was famous for "RPG with meals" but hunting down the game and machine was too much.
- She didn't like games other than turn-based RPGs at first, but she decided to stop being picky and play anything that piqued her interest.
- She played Zelda: BotW and TotK on a borrowed Switch from her editor due to the console's scarcity at the time.
- She enjoyed Red Dead Redemption 2 and God of War for their stories. RDR2's incredible attention to detail had Kui engrossed so much that she asked her editor and other mangaka to play it so she could discuss it with them.
- Kui praised The Witcher 3 localization as something only possible with full support from the developer. Cyberpunk 2077 is one of her all-time favorites.
- Papers, Please was her first taste of indie games.
- Disco Elysium is the perfect game for her due to the lack of fighting, intriguing story, charming character interaction, and top-down perspective. She tried playing it in English at first due to an unlikely chance for JP loc, but it was out of her ability. Thus she is forever grateful to Spike Chunsoft for localizing it.
- Kui played Baldur's Gate 3 from the time it was in Early Access. Again, she's grateful for Spike Chunsoft's JP loc. She hoped BG3's success would bring the possibility of JP loc for other titles too, such as Pathfinder: wotr
- She likes games with top-down perspective because they have narration text for monologues and scenery description. Even if the graphic is lacking, the texts show the atmosphere and each character's behavior and psyche. Also, characters that react to your choices.
- She praised Unpacking and House Flipper for being able to tell what kind of person lives there only through their belongings, and that there's no right or wrong for the placements; she would make the best arrangement and then enjoy her hard work while sipping tea.
- The biggest inspiration for Dungeon Meshi was the Cosmic Forge pen from Wizardry VI. With improved graphics from its predecessor, now it could show broken farming tools in the background and many more details that made exploration so much fun.
- At the time of the interview (Dec '23) she still hadn't watched DunMeshi anime, but she attended the recording sessions. She's embarrassed that the dialog she wrote now acted passionately by professionals. Marcille's screaming was wonderful but also made her want to flee.
- Kui was anxious about the CP2077 anime adaptation, but she was relieved it was the Night City she knows and loves.
- Other than minor adjustments, she left it to TRIGGER as to how to adapt
- She's happy that Mitsuda Yasunori was chosen as the anime composer, as she used to play Chrono Cross and rewatched the opening many times.
- Her anticipated games in 2024 are Cloudpunk, Nivalis, and Avowed.
- DunMeshi would be hard to adapt into a game because in the first place, what Kui depicted in the manga are parts that are omitted in games for the sake of brevity.
- If DunMeshi game was Wizardry-like, it'd be told through Laios' perspective and eating was essential not to die
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anonymityisfunwriter · 7 months ago
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1 @double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep
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rynbutt · 7 months ago
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safe. | spencer reid.
You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.
my masterlist!
cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.
wc: 6.2k
a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3
now playing... Fare Well by Hozier
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This was really starting to piss you off.
You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.
Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.
Because you swore this baby had it out for you.
You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 
You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.
“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.
“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”
“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.
Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.
“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 
Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.
“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”
Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.
“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.
“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”
Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”
“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”
“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.
“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 
“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”
You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.
“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.
“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 
“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.
“...How far along are you?”
“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.
“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.
You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”
“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 
You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.
You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.
You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.
“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.
“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.
“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 
“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.
“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”
“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”
“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 
You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 
Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.
“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.
The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.
“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 
“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”
“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.
“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.
Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”
“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.
“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 
“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 
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You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 
“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”
“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 
“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.
“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 
“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 
Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”
Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”
Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”
“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.
You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.
“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.
“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.
“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”
“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”
“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 
“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”
“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.
“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.
“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”
“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”
You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”
“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 
“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”
“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”
“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.
You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”
Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”
You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.
The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 
You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.
You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–
“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.
“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”
You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”
“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.
Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”
Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”
“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.
“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”
“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”
“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.
You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”
He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”
“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.
“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.
“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.
“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”
“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.
“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 
“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”
“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.
“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.
“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”
“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”
“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”
“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.
“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.
You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”
“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”
Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”
“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 
Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”
“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 
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Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 
You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 
“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”
You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”
“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.
“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 
Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.
“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.
“Yes?”
“Is your son Peter here?”
“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.
“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.
It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.
You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 
“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.
“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.
“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.
“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 
“It was an accident,” you replied softly.
“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.
“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”
“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.
You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.
“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”
David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”
“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.
“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.
“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.
“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 
“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”
“We’re going to get an ambulance–”
“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 
Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”
Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.
Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.
Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.
“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”
“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”
“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.
“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.
“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 
Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.
Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”
Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 
Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.
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Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.
You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.
A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.
“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 
You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”
Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”
“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”
“I know,” you sighed.
“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”
“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.
Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.
“I’m sorry–”
“You don’t need to–”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.
“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 
“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.
“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”
“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”
“Happy?”
“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”
Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.
You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.
“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.
“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.
“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.
“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.
He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”
“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”
“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”
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a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!
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