#ALSO THE JOKE IS ABOUT SOAP BEING DEAD SO IF I SEE THIS STOLEN AND GAZ IS CHANGED TO SOAP I AM GOING TO DELETE MY BLOG

[callsign-bunnie]

Gaz: Okay so the websites said that in order to deal with grief- Ghost: You looked up a tutorial. Ghost: For grief. Gaz: Yes, I did. Ghost: Well did you find a good one? Gaz: No I did not.

#Hi! This is my original dialogue! Please do not steal this and use it for tiktok videos! Please do not steal it and change the ship! #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #ghost cod #gaz cod #call of duty #call of duty: modern warfare ii #source: me and my wife again #ALSO THE JOKE IS ABOUT SOAP BEING DEAD SO IF I SEE THIS STOLEN AND GAZ IS CHANGED TO SOAP I AM GOING TO DELETE MY BLOG

[1987vampire]

Need A Moment

Fandom: Peaky Blinders Relationship: John Shelby x reader Word Count: 1847 Warnings: cussing, alcohol, splash of sadness Request: none, just ain’t been writing in a bit.  A/N: I’ve missed writing...this is nice. Wanna do a Finn Shelby imagine too and an Isaiah Jesus one if I can think of something. If y’all want, send in a song and a character you’d like to see an imagine based off of. (specifically Peaky Blinders if u can) Extra:

The song this was inspired by

John Shelby was a mystery altogether. Of course, everyone knew of him; it would be dumb to think anything other than that as he was a Peaky Blinder, after all. However, nobody knew him. How could you. Even with the family’s very public lives, on both the legal and illegal sides of life, they were very private.  

Their roles were very simple in the people’s minds. Tommy Shelby, though not the oldest, was the leader of the Shelby brothers. Nobody could argue against Tommy. He got what he wanted, no matter the cost. Arthur Shelby was the oldest and arguably the funniest of the group, though he had a temper like no other. He was a killer, but he was probably one of the sweetest out of the siblings. Finn Shelby was the youngest, but people knew not to mess with him. No matter how much you could see his family making fun of him, if anyone else said anything mildly rude, they would find themselves in boiling water. Quite a few had gone missing only for rumors to come out that they had said something to Finn Shelby. Polly and Ada were the least known about out of the family. As the women, everyone knew they also weren’t to be messed with, but they also knew that it wouldn’t be the boys to attack if something went wrong. Polly and Ada may have been seen as feminine figures, but they fought harder than any boy the town had seen.  

That left John Shelby. People thought they knew John the most out of the family, but they were wrong. John was someone who held himself in a way that made him seem consistently relaxed, happy even. But if someone paid even the slightest bit more attention, they would notice that it was a façade. Hell, at least his family hid it a bit better than him. He just seemed tired.  

The poor boy had been through a lot in his short life, and I pitied him just a bit. His wife had died a short while back while he was still in the war, and he seemed to be coming to the bar more and more. As I worked behind the counter, I watched him. Normally, he would go to a back room with his family, or he would at least sit far off into a corner, but tonight, he was in front of the counter. His head was pressed against the cool countertop as he mumbled quietly to himself. His façade was slipping.  

The pub had begun clearing out about an hour ago, and now all that was left were a few bums that didn’t have a home to go to and the drunkards that couldn’t walk by themselves. John hadn’t seemed to notice, and if he had, he didn’t care.  

I pitied him, really. I couldn’t imagine living the life he did. The war would have been enough to make me go mental if the stories I heard were right, but the life of a gangster. The constant thought of someone coming after you looming over your shoulder constantly. Being ordered around by your family to do whatever they wanted. The pure idea of never having full control of your life. Well, it was enough to drive someone insane.  

Harry placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked by, whispering that I needed to wipe off the counters and he would get the others out. I nodded and took a cleaning rag from under the counter, soaking it in soap and water before running it across the surface, trying to keep a decent distance away from John’s head.  

He still hadn’t come around, even as Harry ended up having to literally throw out one of the homeless men. Instead, John kept mumbling to himself. I could faintly hear something about his children, and for the first time in about an hour, he tapped his glass on the counter, signaling he wanted another drink.  

I looked up at Harry who nodded to me as he began stacking chairs on the table. Even with the confirmation to give John a drink, I didn’t want to. He had drunken more than three-fourths of a bottle of whiskey. He probably couldn’t even lift his head to drink it.  

John tapped his glass again, and I took the glass from his hand, filling it with water instead. I could deal with his anger if he lashed out for it.  

“You doin’ okay there, John,” Harry questioned, stacking another chair.  

I placed the glass in John’s open hand as he responded. “I’m just fine, Harry,” he mumbled, lifting his head and knocking back the shot. I watched as he waited for the burn to hit, but when it never did, he gave me a confused look. “Oi, what was that,” he questioned, not anger but rather confusion filling his voice.  

“Water,” I responded, placing a full glass of it in front of him. “You need to drink some, John.” This was a bold action considering I had never even talked to the boy before with the exception of taking his order.

John stared at the glass for a second before sighing and bringing it to his lips. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. He took a few gulps, downing half the glass in a few seconds before wiping his mouth against the sleeve of his suit. I shook my head and handed him a few napkins before continuing to clean the counter.

Harry came up behind me again, this time moving to the register where I watched him count the bills quickly. He had done it so many times, it was practically second nature to him. He knew how much the pub needed to run and give change. The rest would be going into a bank account. He used to place it in a vault hidden in the floorboards, but everything in it had been stolen a few too many times, so he switched.  

“Can you close up for me tonight, y/n,” Harry questioned loudly before leaning down to whisper in my ear. “I don’t really want to leave you with John, but he seems quiet today, and I got a date at a restaurant a bit away. Remember Mrs. Shelly? It’s her.”

“I got this,” I responded, patting his shoulder. “I’ll make sure everything's locked up, and I won’t be here much longer. Make sure to have fun.”

Harry chuckled a bit. “I’ll be having a bit more than fun.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. He left with a little pep in his step and a hum in his voice. Then, my attention was diverted to John. I had to get him out somehow, but I wasn’t even sure he could walk.  

I took the now empty glass from in front of him and watched as his glazed over eyes stared at the wall across from him. What could he possibly be thinking about?  

“John,” I began, fishing the keys from under the counter. “What’s wrong? You don’t really have to tell me, but I don’t like seeing people so down.”  

John blinked a few times before looking at me, and I realized he wasn’t staring absentmindedly, he was crying. I paused, not knowing what to do as he wiped his hand across his face, obviously trying to hide it.  

“Oh, god, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”  

John shook his head, laughing a bit. I suppose that was a good sign. “No, I just-” He swallowed harshly before he let out a loud sob. “Gimme a second.”  

I waited, as he had instructed me to do, but his crying didn’t seem to be slowing down. “Is there anything I can do?”

John shook his head. “I need a moment. I didn’t mean to do this, especially in front of a pretty girl like you.”  

I chuckled a bit. “I don’t think this is the best time to flirt, John.”

He laughed too. “This is the perfect time,” he joked, wiping his eyes again. His face was blotchy from his crying, but he still looked so cute. I never thought that I would see someone as beautiful as him, but here he was, crying in the pub I was closing.

“John,” I spoke as he settled down. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a bit. But, well, whenever I have a good cry, I find it’s best to talk to someone to let it all out. I mean, normally it’s Harry I vent to because he’s one of the only people I know, but -”

John cut me off with another laugh, and he took off his cap, placing it on the counter. “I get it, I promise. Come sit over here, and maybe, I’ll rant a bit.”  

And he did rant for nearly an hour, and we both got drunk off the cheap kind of whiskey, and I got to know John Shelby more than I ever thought I would. He was stressed, so stressed, and he felt underappreciated. He wanted somebody to listen for once, and he was scared he wouldn’t be a good father. He feared a lot of things. For someone who seemed so happy all the time, he had a lot of built up emotion.

By the end of the night, we were both holding onto each other for dear life as we made our way down the cobbled street. I had successfully locked up everything that needed to be, and John had suggested taking me home. I had responded that he couldn’t walk himself home with how much alcohol he had in his system. He mumbled something about his kids, and we had both agreed to stay at his house for the night. He didn’t want to leave me alone, but he couldn’t make it five feet without me holding him steady.  

The walk seemed to take barely any time at all, but that might have been because we were laughing the whole time. At one point, we had both ended up on the grimy, cobblestone path after he had jokingly pushed me away after I made a dirty joke. I fell over onto the ground, pulling him down with me without thinking about it.  

By the time we made it back to his house, I could see the sun rising, and I was dead tired. His house was nice, a bit dirty with all the kids running around, but it was something I could see myself living in.  

“This is a nice home,” I said, running my hand along the couch. I could see toys stuffed haphazardly under the coffee table.  

John grinned from where he was leaned against the door. “I’m glad you think so.”  

I stumbled a bit as I walked back towards him. “I’ll sleep on the couch, if that’s okay.”  

John shook his head. “You can take my bed. I couldn’t let you sleep there. It’s fuckin’ shit, it is. Slept on it once and my back was fucked for weeks.”  

“Well, then, why would I let you sleep there? I don’t want your back to be hurt!” I giggled and leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “That wouldn’t be very good, would it?” My breath fanned across his neck, and John shivered.  

“Well, I think I have the best idea yet. We can both sleep in the bed.” John leaned back again before leaning forward and kissing me. I reciprocated quickly, but it was a languid kind of kiss that had me melting into him. I’ve never kissed someone let alone gone home with someone this soon into knowing them, but John was different. I felt like I could trust him.  

I pressed my forehead to his shoulder again and sighed. I was tired. Working in the bar took a lot out of me and getting drunk certainly didn’t help.  

John seemed tired too, and we both stumbled around the apartment before falling into his bedroom and directly onto his bed. I barely had the sense of mind to take off my shoes before promptly falling asleep.  

I couldn’t deny that waking up the next day beside a half-naked John Shelby was the best morning I had in a while, even when two of his daughters came running in, yelling about the night they had at Polly’s. The happiness only intensified when John woke up and turned, pressing his lips to my cheek and asking me if I’d like to have lunch with him. Sober.  

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby fic

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ➺ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing ➺ Teacher!Tom Holland x Single mom!Reader

Warning ➺  Bold text is the reader’s thoughts, flashbacks, fluff, someone new

Word Count ➺  2,783

Summary ➺  What happens when your five year old tries to set you up with her kindergarten teacher?

A/N ➺ Hey babes! Fun fact about little cupid (that no one may care about) but! Little cupid was originally supposed to be a one-shot, I had it sitting in my drafts for a year and finally inspiration struck and now it’s a mini series! I’m aiming for about ten parts or so.

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr  @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

❤ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❤ @luvborhap @asianravenpuff @agusdoti @meg-holland @silverreading @agirlwithpointlessideas @bonita-juanita

☞  Masterlist  ☜

When your five and a half year old daughter tell’s you “Spare me no details.” should you be concerned or should you be proud of quite the use of vocabulary. 

“Spare you no what?” (Y/N) questioned moved around the kitchen fixing Audrey some breakfast, her parent’s had just dropped her off about ten minutes ago saying Audrey requested to eat breakfast with her mom.

“Details! Did you have a magical kiss under the fireworks?” Audrey sat on the edge of the island swinging her feet back and forth. She doesn’t hold back on questions huh? Audrey does this, thing. It’s like an interrogation, she’ll ask you a question and when you give her answer she’ll have a question for your answer.

“Bub, I don’t kiss and te-” 

The doorbell echoed Audrey looked over at the little monitor that rest in the corner of the kitchen showing camera’s around the house. Her eyes widened in joy reaching for her mother to help her off, “If you won’t tell me I’ll ask Mr.Holland.” (Y/N) looked over at the monitor to see Tom. 

“Audrey Brooklyn!” 

That would be the first time in a long while that’s she’s addressed Audrey by her first and second name, rushing after her to see she had already opened the door.

Tom looked down to see the Audrey, Tessa began to sniff and lick her causing Audrey to open the door even wider. (Y/N) smiled apologetically at Tom, “Sorry, she’s just being well Audrey. Come in.” Audrey walked away with Tessa to the living room, Tom shut the door behind him and followed (Y/N) to the kitchen.

“You forgot your wallet last night.”

The entire car ride back they’d had been talking about anything and everything, they had stopped by Taco bell for some late night cravings and (Y/N) had covered the meal. She must have forgotten to place it back in her bag.

“One of your craziest college memories.” 

Tom reached for his drink take a long sip to wash down the soft taco he was eating attempting to remember his college days. 

“My best mate Harrison and I made a bet, who ever scored the lowest on our psychology exam would have to streak.” 

(Y/N) stared blankly at Tom, this had got to be a joke. He did not streak, he did not let almost the entire school see his, well you know. Little Tom. She blinked at Tom a few times before bursting into a loud laughter, “No way. I- No!” Tom shrugged taking another bite of his taco.

“I could show you the video if you want.”

Now that’s solid evidence right there, but as of right now she wasn’t so curious about little Tom.

“No, no I believe you.”

(Y/N) took the wallet back giving Tom a warm smile, “Thank you. I must’ve forgotten to put it back in my bag, so sorry you came all this way.” Audrey waltzed into the kitchen with her head held high and Tessa walking beside her.

She walked up to Tom tugging at the hem of his shirt, (Y/N) watched her daughter’s actions carefully. She knew she was about to ask him something she knew she would have to say yes to. Sometimes she thinks Audrey is actually a twenty-five year old in a five year old’s body.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast Mr.Holland? Mom makes the best pancakes.”

Now here that sat eating breakfast, it gave (Y/N) this warm feeling. I guess this is what a family breakfast look’s like on a Saturday morning. Light chattered filled the air, stolen glances and hidden blushes. 

“Mr.Holland?” 

“Yes Audrey?”

Audrey looked between her mom and her teacher, she had two question’s for him. But she didn’t want to bombard him too quickly so she started off with a small question. 

“I turn six next Saturday and I’m having a birthday party here, would you like to come?” She swung her legs back and forth pouting lightly in hops that he’d say yes.

“I’d love to come thank you for the invite Audrey.”

She smiled with glee standing on her chair fist pumping the air, now to ask the question her mother was avoiding to answer for her. (Y/N) could see it in her eyes, she was about to ask her what she had asked about thirty minutes ago. 

“Did you and my mommy kiss?”

Tom choked on his coffee, his hand flew to his chest slapping it lightly as a rough cough passed his lips. (Y/N) glared at her daughter who stood there unfazed awaiting an answer. 

“W-what?” Tom chuckled awkwardly looking at (Y/N) with wide eyes then back at Audrey.

“Did you and my mommy kiss?”

(Y/N) sighed rubbing her temples lightly before mumbling “Yes.” a loud shriek filled the kitchen causing Tessa to stand from where she was resting, Audrey hopped off her chair and began to run around the kitchen.

“I’m a genius!” she shouted leaving Tom and (Y/N) to stare at each other blankly. 

What in the world is happening right now? 

Audrey was dancing with happiness running through her veins, maybe she had found her mom her lobster. 

“You found your lobster!”

Yup, she was spending too much time with Vivian. Vivian was (Y/N) best friend since high school, and well time’s when her grandparent’s were busy she’d spend time with Vivian and Brandon. Brandon was one of Audrey’s father’s close friends, but when he found out what he had done they two stopped talking.

“You’re spending way too much time with Aunty Viv bubs.” 

Audrey stopped in her place shaking her head no, “Nope I think we spend just enough time together.” she was quick and witty with comments. Is she twenty-five or five? 

“Mr.Holland can I bring Tessa out to the backyard?”

Tom gave the five year old a warm smile nodding in approval watching Audrey and Tessa exit to the backyard. (Y/N) sighed collecting their empty plates moving them to the sink, “I’m so sorry about that Tom. Audrey can be... well Audrey.”

He shrugged lightly Audrey is full of surprises, it’s just her question took him by surprise. How and why would a five year old think or even know about kissing? Tom moved to stand beside her picking up the sponge applying some dish soap and taking the dishes she had rinsed off and scrubbed it lightly.

“Tom you do-”

“Let me help you, thank you for the pancakes. Audrey was right, she is full of wonders.” 

(Y/N) sighed her gaze fixed on her daughter who was sitting in the shade with Tessa, she is full of wonders. 

“You don’t have to apologize for Audrey. She’s sweet and means well.”

Audrey looked up waving at to see they were standing next to one another looking in her direction, she waved with a big toothy grin. She just wants her mother to be happy. She also couldn’t help but wonder if her father was also coming to her big sixth birthday. He had missed all her birthday’s, maybe he would come to this one. 

“Fuck.” (Y/N) mumbled staring at the three positive pregnancy sticks.

You’re fucked, you’re more than fucked, you’re dead!

Vivian knocked on (Y/N) bathroom door, the two were in their sophomore year of college. What’s great about going to an instate college or university, you have a dorm and home to go back to. As of the past three weeks (Y/N) had been spending more time at home than in her dorm, she had been feeling sick lately.

Fuck, I’m screwed.

(Y/N) leaned against the bathroom counter allowing herself to slide down until she reached the ground, she had missed her period last week but thought it was just because of all the stress and sickness. 

“(Y/N)” 

I’m scared.

Vivian sighed leaning against the bathroom door, “I’m gonna call Brandon to break through this door.” (Y/N) got up weakly unlocking the door and swinging it open, she instantly wrapped her arms around her best friend sobbing lightly. 

What will my parent’s think?

“(Y/N)?” Tom called bringing her back to reality, she didn’t even realize she had walked Tessa and Tom to the door. “Will the party be here or?” Oh god, she made him repeat himself a few times due to her head not being there.

“Oh! Audrey go grab an invitation for Mr.Holland. Her godparents Vivian and Brandon are the party planners.” 

Audrey grabbed one of the invitations grabbing a Pen to write Mr.Holland on the envelope, she scribbled it quickly then ran back to the front door handing it to him proudly “Here you go!” Tom gladly accepted the envelope smiling at her handwriting. 

“Thank you Miss.Audrey, I’ll see you on Monday. I hope to see you on Monday as well darling.”

The five year old raised her brow in confusion darwhat? She shrugged it off watching Tessa and Tom off. Once her mom closed the door she followed her to the living room standing on one of the couch cushions.

“Momma?” 

(Y/N) hummed in response moving from the kitchen to grab her coffee then back into the living room. 

“I-Is daddy coming? To my birthday party this year?”

She tensed lightly, it’s been a while since Audrey last asked about her father. I wonder if he know’s how old she’ll be this year. I wonder if he ever tried to reach out to her.

“I’m pregnant.”

Please, please Alex. Will you help me?

Alex stared at her blankly, blinking a few times before snorting lightly “Very funny (Y/N). Now what do we really have to talk about? I have a party to plan.” He watched her facial expression tense at every word that left his lips.

Are you fucking kidding me? I’m pregnant and you think it’s joke?

“This isn’t a joke Alex.” 

(Y/N) watched his jaw clench his palm came in contact with the table, causing those who were in the café to jump at the sudden noise. (Y/N) pushed herself back at the sudden action, worry ran through her veins. She watched him leave the café in such anger, a few people stared before going back to what they were doing. 

“Momma?”

She looked over at her daughter blinking a few times, she did it again didn’t she? How was she suppose to tell Audrey? ‘I’m sorry bubs, your father didn’t want me to keep you but I did anyway’ or ‘He’s never tried to contact us bub.’ What are you supposed to tell your five soon to be six year old daughter their dad wasn’t coming?

“I-I don’t know sweetheart.” 

Alex placed the envelope that held twenty-thousand dollars onto the table pushing it towards (Y/N), by this time they had both told their parents and (Y/N) were quite supportive. Along with Alex’s parents yet, he took it on himself to make it seem as if his parent’s didn’t support. 

“Get an abortion, and we can go our separate ways.”

Is he fucking joking? Get an abortion? 

She had wanted to do it before. But after hearing the heartbeat she just couldn’t go through with the abortion/

“I won’t accept your money. I just want you out of my face and life.”

And with that, he left in a heart beat. 

“It’s okay if he doesn’t come again momma. I have you, grandma and grandma, along with Aunty Viv and Uncle Bran. Now I also have Mr.Holland!” 

(Y/N) felt her heartstrings pull at every word that passed Audery’s lips. It kills her when it comes around this time of year, the look on her face in hopes that her father shows. 

There are times when she felt selfish for not letting Alex see her once or tell him what the gender was. She tries to make herself believe that she didn’t see any of him in her. But there were times when she’d stare at Audrey and see little glimpses of Alex.

Is it selfish of me to feel this way? 

Soon enough Audrey’s sassy sixth birthday party rolled around, Vivian decided to hold it at her and Brandon’s house. The theme was unicorns, Audrey picked out every decoration, to food, cake, and goodie bags. I guess you could say she was planning her own birthday party. 

Tom entered the house signing his name in the birthday guest book, there was a balloon arch once you walked into the house it was made to look like a rainbow in the clouds. He continued to walk into the house following the light chatter. 

“Tom!” (Y/N) called waving him down with a warm smile, he felt his heart flutter at how beautiful she looked today. She placed her wine onto the marble counter top giving him a small hug, “Thank you for coming. Audrey is somewh-”

Speaking of the six year old, she came bursting into the kitchen screaming “Mr.Holland!” he kneeled down to be the same height as Audrey hugging her tightly. 

“Happy birthday Miss.Audrey.” 

He pulled away lightly handing her his gift, instead of buying toys he bought her books and crayons to write and draw in. Audrey was never really the type to have barbie dolls, she was more into toys who helped you learn.

“Thank you for coming Mr.Holland!” she took her gift and happily skipped to place in her pile of gifts. 

(Y/N) lifted her wine glass “Stella Rosa?” Stella Rosa was one of her favorite wines, she preferred it over beer or any other liquor. Unless she went out clubbing then she wouldn’t get wine. 

"Artois.”

Oh the other Stella, he was a beer guy.

(Y/N) opened the fridge grabbing him a bottle sliding it across the counter top and into his hands, she didn’t think he’d catch it but prayed he would or else Vivian would kill her. 

"Thank you for coming.” (Y/N) whispered glancing up at Tom for a brief second before looking away. God this is what third graders would do, too shy to look up at their crush. 

Wait what? Did I just admit that I have a crush on Tom?

His hand brushed against her’s, the same warm spark ran through his veins tinting his cheeks red. He took another swing of his beer before responding, I should be thanking you for allowing Audrey to invite me darling.” 

There it was again, Darling. God the way he says it with ease. 

Before (Y/N) could answer her mother entered the kitchen.

“Mr.Holland?” Mrs.(Y/L/N) questioned moving around to give him a hug “How are you? It’s been a while since I’ve picked Audrey up.” Ever since the family fun fair, (Y/N) was the one to pick Audrey up. 

“I’m well Mrs.(Y/L/N) how are you?” 

(Y/N) left Tom and her mother to talk in search for Vivian. She had something, well someone  to take care of, but didn’t say who. Instead she scurried upstair dragging Brandon with her. 

She turned the corner to see Vivian standing in the door way talking to someone outside, “Viv?” (Y/N) questioned walking closer to see who she was talking to. 

“Viv.” she repeated tapping on her shoulder lightly.

Her best friend gasped loudly jumping at the sudden touch. She turned on her heels to see (Y/N) her eyes widened in horror. Vivian turned her gaze to Brandon to see he was still trying to convince the last person on earth she’d want to see to leave.

“(Y/N)!” 

Brandon turned to see (Y/N) standing in the doorway, the way her face just dropped along with the glass of wine she had in her hand. It looked as if she saw a ghost, she stood there in shock. Unable to say a word.

Tom had excused himself when he heard someone shouting (Y/N) name, he could see the pieces of glass near the front of her heels. Making his way over to her allowing her to step back from the glass, “Darling, what’s wrong?” he questioned searching her eyes to see tears blurring her vision. 

(Y/N) looked at Tom then at the person she never wanted to see again. This has to be a dream, of all times he could choose to waltz back into her life why today? Of all days today?

“Momma! Let’s go eat!” Audrey whined marching over to the adults, she stood beside her mom tugging at her dress lightly. Vivian scooped Audrey into her arms. 

She tilted her head in confusion staring at the man who was being held back by her uncle Brandon.

“Aunty Viv, who’s that?” Audrey spoke causing the Stranger to smile pushing pass Brandon to stand a few feet away from the entrance.

“Hey Audrey, I’m Alex.”

Don’t you dare say it, you have no right to say it.

“I’m your dad.”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland au #tom holland au fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

[dakotacrisis]

For Better or Worse (3)

Adrien.exe is applying updates. Do not ask hard to answer questions or flirt with the sunshine child at this time.

---

The rest of Adrien’s car ride home was spent with his face buried in the neck of his sweater blushing like a mad fool.

It was really starting to sink in. Adrien had just told Marinette he wanted to date her. He wants to be her boyfriend and have a real, romantic, relationship with her. He wanted her. Wanted to be with her in a way he had only ever thought he’d want with Ladybug.

Ladybug.

Ladybug didn’t love him the way he loved her. No matter how much he convinced himself that there had to be something there. Staring at the pictures of kisses he didn’t remember and telling himself that she had to feel just something. Maybe there was something there. Maybe she could return his love. Maybe things with Marinette aren’t meant to be forever and Adrien and Ladybug do get that fantasy life in his head.

But that wasn’t what was happening now. Ladybug was still a faraway dream and he’d always have a place in his heart for her no matter what. But Ladybug was no Marinette. She was a superhero and a good friend and the object of his affections for nearly a year. Marinette wasn’t a magical hero swinging around the city defeating evil but she was a heroine in her own right. To list all Marinette had done for others would take long hours of interviewing every citizen of Paris she had ever come in contact with.

Marinette was always helping others. Marinette was super passionate and a hard worker. Marinette was talented yet humble. Marinette was the kind of person that could rip her enemy to shreds in the sweetest and most graceful way possible. Marinette was scary clever. Marinette was lots of fun. Marinette was a dork. Marinette stumbled over telling jokes as well as her own two feet. Marinette was tardy to events. Marinette loses the ability to pronounce words correctly when she’s caught off guard. Marinette was hot-headed. Marinette jumped to conclusions.

Marinette

Marinette

Marinette

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was beautiful. From the ends of her pitch black hair to the tips of her toes. Whenever she was super focused her tongue stuck out. Her nose did a little scrunchie thing when she was trying not to laugh. Her hands were so soft and warm.

He recalled the hesitant goodbye kiss he had given her when he dropped her off at home. The smell of the bakery clinging to her even after their walk.

He’d have to tell Ladybug about this which he wasn’t looking forward to for a whole mess of reasons. He was excited about this new relationship and where it may go but it was also surreal to just let go of his long standing crush and efforts to woo Ladybug. It wasn’t exactly like she didn’t know about his feelings either. If he stopped altogether with no explanation she might get suspicious. Or not. He had no idea how she would react.

Why was he worrying so much about it in the first place? She’d probably be happy for him for taking this step and finding someone he wants to be with. She was great like that.

After getting into the house Adrien slumped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Marinette is his girlfriend. A week ago she had just been a cute friend in his class. Now they were dating.

“Gotta say, kid,” Plagg floated by his head, “I didn’t think you had it in you. Great work scoring the baker’s daughter though. Can you say all the free cheese pastries we could eat or what!”

Adrien laughed. “Is that all that excites you about me deciding to date Marinette?”

“Adrien, trust me, nothing could make me happier.” Plagg flew into his cheese cupboard, “Except maybe my delicious camembert.”

“Eat up now cause after I finish my homework we need to head out for patrol tonight.”

“You gonna tell Ladybug about your new girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I should say something but I also really don’t want to have that conversation tonight. It was already an emotional talk with Marinette and to have another heart to heart with Ladybug? I don’t think I could handle it.”

“No one’s asking you to wax poetic. Just tell Ladybug you have a girlfriend so you won’t be constantly trying to woo her anymore. Simple as that.”

“You are giving me the same advice you did before I went to talk to Marinette.”

“I’m just saying you could have killed a lot of time by being straight to the point.”

“I don’t think Marinette would want to date me if I told her that I only wanted to be with her so I could have free cookies.”

“And cakes and pies and eclairs and brownies--”

“Plagg, please stop before you make me hungry.”

“Also, I didn’t say to date her just because she’s a baker’s daughter. I told you to date her because you’re happier with her around and from what I gathered she’s happier when you’re around too.”

Adrien stared down at his math homework with uncomprehending eyes. His brain was so frazzled from the past couple of hours that it was impossible to focus.

“Plagg, transform me.” Adrien transformed into Chat Noir and leapt out of his window into the night. It was still early so he didn’t need to meet Ladybug for patrol yet.

Being Chat Noir had always been the ultimate escape for Adrien. It was a time to unwind and be impulsive. Running along the rooftops especially had done a lot for clearing his head. It was not a rare sight to see Chat Noir bounding across the Paris skyline at two in the morning because of it.

Maybe if he ran fast enough all these complicated feelings and worries would fall away behind him.

“Incoming!” The shout stopped Adrien dead in his tracks.

Ladybug was gracefully falling from the sky and landed perfectly not a foot in front of him. “Hey Chat. Ready for patrol?”

“Always.” he relaxed a bit. “Shall we get started?”

“Let’s go.” they leapt off into the night.

It started out as normal a patrol as you could get. Leaping across buildings, checking alleyways, waving to citizens, and escorting someone home who doesn’t feel safe walking by themselves at night. Through it all though Adrien kept stealing glances at Ladybug and trying to formulate a lead in to what he wanted to tell her.

Why was he being so weird about this? He needed to spit it out already! What is the worst that could happen?

“Chat Noir?” Ladybug interrupted his thoughts. She was watching him, her brow furrowed in worry. “Are you alright? You’ve barely said anything all patrol.”

“I’m fine. Good. Great even. If not a little mentally exhausted.” Adrien sighed, “I had an...interesting day.”

“Anything you need help with?” Ladybug asked, “I may not have any advice but talking about it could clear your head.”

“I uh...the things is...I was out with this person and…” All his words seemed to leave him. He didn’t want to do this tonight but the sooner he did it the sooner it would be over with.

“Geez,” Ladybug gave him a comforting smile, “You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof. What exactly did this person say to you?”

“She said she wanted to date me.” he mumbled. That familiar warmth spreading in his chest as he thought back to him and Marinette walking along the Seine.

“Oh…” Ladybug rocked back on her heels, “And how did this old tom cat respond to this confession?”

“No tom cat here, milady. I am a perfect gentleman at all times.” He slouched against the roof railing, “But I can say that it was a rather precarious conversation that ensued. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or give her false hope but I also wanted to think about what she said on my own. After that and another long talk with her I decided--we decided to, y’know, date.”

“Hmm,” Ladybug came to rest next to him. “Is it mean to say I never really saw you dating anyone?”

“Why?”

“Your constant flirting with me?”

“Ah, yes, that would do it.” Why did he have to have this conversation? “To be honest I had never thought of this girl in that way before but after she confessed I realized I sorta had a crush on her but was too enamoured with a certain lady to notice.”

“I see…”

“I’m not giving up on you or whatever but...how do I put this?” He ran his hands through his hair, “I feel like I’ve matured past my crush on you. It’s not to say that I don’t still care for you but I can see the line between us more clearly. And I know that I’ve had a problem of crossing that line in the past but not anymore. I value you too much to lose you.”

“Oh, chaton,” Ladybug flicked one of his cat ears, “I’m happy for you. If you found someone you like that much and who treats you well then I am proud of you. You have a big heart and deserve someone to share it with.”

Adrien breathed out in relief. “I knew you’d be happy for me but a part of me was almost kinda hoping that you’d drop into a dramatic act of declaring your love for me in a jealous stupor.”

“Oh yes, forgive me, just a moment,” she brought one of her hands up to her forehead in a dramatic pose, “Oh Chat Noir!” she spoke like a wounded soap opera star, “I can bear it no longer! My love for you is like a tsunami that cannot be contained a moment more.”

“My lady, how forward!” Adrien gasped in equal ridiculous fashion as Ladybug fainted into his waiting arms, “What can one say to such an unexpected confession?”

“Say that you’ll leave this unworthy maiden who has stolen your heart from me. For I am your one true lady!” she brought her other hand over her heart.

“Sorry Bugaboo, as tempting as running away with you may be, I really like this girl and I have no intention of screwing this chance up.”

She smiled softly at him. Ladybug righted herself so she was no longer draped in his arms. “You like her that much, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Then all I can say is that I hope things go well for you two. She’s a lucky girl.”

“Trust me, I’m the lucky one.” he thought back to Marinette and his heart warmed just thinking of her.

Ladybug gave him another warm look before wrapping him in her arms and squeezing him tightly. He hugged her back. Putting all the love for her into it as he could.

“Come on,” Adrien let go first, “let’s wrap up patrol so I can get home and maybe get some sleep tonight.”

“Unless Hawkmoth decides to send another late night akuma.” Ladybug groaned.

“Does that man ever sleep?” Adrien grumbled, “Probably some jerk that can work from home and take naps whenever he wants.”

Ladybug snorted, “Do you think he sleeps in a giant cocoon hanging from a tree?”

“The real reason we can’t ever find Hawkmoth is because he’s wrapped up in a giant cocoon in a tree somewhere between akuma villains.”

“That would be our luck wouldn’t it?” Ladybug laughed, “If that’s the case then we should go start shaking some trees and see if a purple butterfly man wrapped in a sleeping bag falls out of one.”

They took off back over the rooftops. He was glad that he said something to Ladybug. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Now he could really move forward with this new relationship with Marinette. No more hesitations. Well, less hesitations.

“Nope.” Ladybug popped out of one of the park trees, leaves stuck in her hair, “No Hawkmoth in here.” Adrien laughed as he pretended to be trapped in a different tree.

And more importantly, Ladybug was still his friend.

---

(1) (2) (4)

---

(tagged)

@ladylb

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #writing

[o-kviii]

The Blind Leading the Blind pt. 2 [Matt x Reader]

>>> Part 1 <<<>>>Part 3<<<

You wake up to the smell of antibacterial soap, a throbbing pain in your arm, and thick cloud surrounding your head. The last thing you remember... did I ever get that sandwich?

“You’re awake.” a chirpy voice rings out. Footsteps approach, and a soft hand pats your hand as she raises your bed to a better sitting position. You blink a few times. You didn’t even realize your eyes were open. “Don’t panic, now.” she says just as the soft tones of the heart rate machine begin to grow more ecstatic. “It’s going to take some time for the swelling in your head to go down, but once things calm down your sight will return. Give it time, (Y/N).”

“So it’s coming back?” your voice sounds dry and raspy. You wonder how long you’ve been here. How long you’ve been asleep or unconscious or whatever happened. Where the man that helped you is.

“Yes honey, the surgeon was confident in your recovery. He will be in here a little later to discuss the procedure and any questions you may have then.”

The nurse checks things around the room, or so you assume from her rustling. Her footsteps grow faded but then she stops.

“Oh right, you do have a guest if you are up to it. A man has been back the past two days asking if you are awake yet.”

“A man?”

 The one that brought you into the ER. He arrived here about an hour ago and has been waiting. Would you like for me to send him in?” 

The entire ordeal, your attack, the stranger, all of it fills your brain. Anxiety presses on your chest, but you agree and give her the go. This man really has stuck by. For a stranger of all people. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t deserve his kindness.

“Hi.” That voice greets you, smooth and surprisingly timid. You can clearly remember his confidence a few days ago.

“Thank you.” You blurt out, and immediately regret. He laughs softly. 

“Please, don’t thank me...You know,” his words trail off and there is some distinct tapping as he sounds to be getting closer and closer. “I do believe we haven’t officially made acquaintance.”

“(Y/N).” you smile, hoping that you are looking in his general direction with some sort of accuracy.

“Matthew.”

“It’s nice to put a name to the voice... I may have died out there or lost my vision permanently if you didn’t come along.”

“So you will get it back?” 

“So they tell me. Not sure when yet, though.”

“You will get it back though, which is what’s important.” 

“Yeah.” 

Silence fills the room. You wonder why he’s here. What he wants. Maybe this wasn’t a debt free exchange. Maybe he’s poor, homeless. Wants payment for his deed. Not that you have much to give...

“I uh, do you have family? The nurse said there is no one on file.”

Your heart sinks. 

“It’s for the best they don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” 

“My family is, uh, complicated. We used to live here in Hell’s Kitchen once upon a time. I grew up here. But then I came home to a moving truck and a suitcase packed for me to go off to boarding school without an explanation. I guess that’s why I’m back now.” 

Matthew is quiet, almost seems to be holding his breath. The fact that there is only darkness is really starting to dawn on you. Usually in pitch blackness your eyes adjust and soon the outlines of the geography of the area begins to show itself in faint shadows and tones that are a little darker than the rest. It’s not much, but it’s something. Something you didn’t think you’d miss until you can’t even wave your hand in front of your eyes and sense movement or make out the curves of the end of the bed your toes are propped up against. What you can hear are the steady blips of the heart rate monitor quickening and what seems like someone speaking in the hallway. So faint you can tell it’s words but have no idea what is being said. 

Warmth encompasses your hand and the voice seems louder now, more defined. 

“Breathe.” It says, and the feeling of circles being rubbed on your wrist are consuming your senses now. “It’s overwhelming, I know, but you must calm down if you want it to get better.” 

“I want to see again.”

“You can see. Focus your ears. Listen to the sound of my breathing and match it.” 

Labored breaths get caught in your chest but you focus on trying to calm down out of this horrid panic attack and find Matthew’s breathing. As if you’re tuning a radio the flushing of his exhale and the deep swoosh of his hearty inhale fill your ears. In. and out. In. and out. 

“Good. Now I want you to take a deep breathe in. Tell me what you smell.” 

“What... what I smell?”

“Just try.” 

On your next big inhale you pull in the air. Matthew is standing so close you can almost taste the faint twinge of cologne. Or maybe that’s deodorant. Yes, your ex in high school used to wear that deodorant until he decided to stop using hygiene products all together... Soy sauce. All that sushi you’ve consumed in your twenties is a dead giveaway to that smell. I could really go for a tempura roll right now... 

“Chinese food?” You say softly, and you hear him let out an affirmative chirp. “And do you by chance wear Degree deodorant.” 

“Thai and you are impressively correct on the second one.” 

“How you do know about this? That’s the quickest I’ve ever come out of a panic attack that bad.” 

“Let’s just say I’ve been in a similar position before.” 

“Who are you?”

He exhales roughly, releasing your hand. You worry you’ve upset him, though he was the one asking about your family a few minutes prior.

“There’s many answers to that question.”

“What’s an answer you’re willing to give then? All I know is you must be the Good Samaritan of the year and have nice biceps.” 

“Oh really?” he chuckles. You feel your cheeks grow warm and hope he can’t tell you’re blushing. It’s not often you speak so easily to men, offering flirty comments as he sits on the edge of your bed. Granted, it is a hospital bed and you could be staring at his crotch right now and you wouldn’t know but at least you are feeling fairly confident. 

“But anyways... just give me something about you. So I can paint a better picture in my head.”

“A lawyer.” he says almost immediately. “I run my own law firm with my best friend. My college roommate, Foggy and our office assistant Karen.” 

“A lawyer? What a big shot.” 

“Well, uh, we try our best. We just want to help people. Someone’s gotta stand up for those who don’t have as big a voice.” 

“Noble. Also explains why you’ve come back, you’re hoping I’ll sue or something right?” 

You can hear Matthew shift from foot to foot and pass an object in his hand to his other palm. 

“If you want a lawyer then I would certainly represent you, but that’s not the reason I came back.” 

“Then why?” 

“It’s kind of a long story.” 

You consider dropping it. You don’t want to scare him away, make him think you’re trying to intrude into his life. Yet, there is something he’s holding back. Something he wants to say, but isn’t. You can feel it. 

“Well I am literally all ears if you care to stick around and tell it.” 

*

 Already making blind jokes only a few hours in. Matt didn’t dare get into those for a few weeks at least. Apart from her inevitable panic attack, she’s taking this all remarkably well. Maybe it’s the short term nature of her blindness. She doesn’t have to live with this forever.

If she did though, her senses are sharp. She had it down to the brand on his deodorant. He expected her to pick up on the soy sauce as he accidentally spilled some on his pants during lunch, but the deodorant was a pleasant surprise. 

Matt must now decide whether or not he is going to go into this story with her. He’s told it a million times by now. People are so curious to know of how a disability came about. There were a few times he didn’t feel like going into the car crash and hazardous materials spill story and just claimed he has been like this since birth. It never ceased to amaze him that people were actually disappointed when he would tell them it was congenial. As if he were depriving them of some tale of a tragic accident they can share with their book club friends over black tea and Chips Ahoy cookies. 

Somehow this is different. She isn’t asking about his eyes because, well, she has no idea he sees the same world she does. She’s asking about him. Who Matthew Murdock is. It’s strangely unnerving to separate him from his blindness. 

“I grew up here, in Hell’s Kitchen. My father raised me alone, supporting us on his boxing career up until his death. After he died, I was sent to the orphanage at the church. I had just gone blind at the time--”

“Wait, you’re blind?”

“Yeah, uh, I did say I could relate.” 

“Wow. What are the odds. Sorry, continue.” she says, and Matt is taken aback by how swiftly that was glossed over. Like it’s a story for later, not the main chronicle. He collects himself and continues. 

“I was full of anger in those days. My father left me, my sight was gone. It felt like the world was crumbling around me. I learned a lot though, about myself. About what I truly believe in. What I was meant to be. This nun, Sister Maggie, used to sit by my bed when I would have a nightmare as a kid. She would hold my hand and tell me that God has a plan for me and that all that has happened would make sense one day. As I got older, went to college, got my law degree, that started to make more sense. I opened a firm with my best friend and we began doing what we always talked about-- helping people. So I suppose that’s why I’m here. I was once lying on the street in a dark world. My father was there to hold me, though. Knowing what it’s like to have your vision stolen from you, there is not a part of me that could stand letting you wake up with no one to hold your hand.”

“Or insist I smell the lunch you spilt.” she chuckles. Matt feels her hand slide into his. He curls his fingers over hers, his thumb forming a mind of its own and tracing gentle circles along the back of her hand. He didn’t notice it earlier, but her hand is swollen with tears across her knuckles. Defensive wounds. His chest aches as he ever so gently feels the extend of her injuries. The gashes on her fingers. Hairline fractures in her thumb and wrist. He’s surprised she’s not pulling away, even with the slight pressure he’s applying. 

A thought occurs to him, and he presses a little harder. He can feel them now, the calluses and scar tissue. Parts of the bone that healed stronger than before. 

“Do you know why you were attacked?” Matt asks softly, honing in on the sound of her heartbeat. It quickens slightly, but then slows again. 

“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they want me to get to my father.” her heart is even, unwavering. She’s telling the truth. 

“Who is your father?” 

*

“[Y/N], it’s time to go.” your father is standing at the door, his keys in hand. It is a strangely domestic scene for your home, as your father is usually not the one home to take you places, let alone be dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s his day off, though, so he told you. He paid for your mother to have a weekend at the spa. You were snooping when you overheard him insisting she take some time to relax. He told her he felt bad for being away from you for so long and wanted to spend some time bonding. She seemed reluctant at the time, but the ease in her walk as she kissed your forehead and got in the car made you think she changed her mind on that stance. You sling your gym bag over your shoulder and exit the house as he shuts the door behind you. 

You’re sitting in the front seat, watching the massive houses pass at the front of the gated community you live in. Your house is smaller, not as extravagant as these, but you’re thankful for that. You like not being like your friends with their butlers and nannies. You feel like you are lucky to have a mother that takes such good care of you and a father that works hard but still makes efforts such as these every so often. It could be worse. 

Sometimes you think about your old home in Hell’s Kitchen. You miss the city noises and the constant activity right outside your door. 

“Your mother lets you sit in the front now?” your father asks, glancing at you as you pause at a stop sign. 

“I’m almost fourteen, I’ve been sitting in the front since I was eleven.”

“Hm.” 

The car turns left, which throws you off. 

“The dance studio is a right.” you correct him, but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to make a U-turn.

“I called your dance studio. Told them you were sick. We have a different activity for the afternoon.” 

“What are we doing?” 

He sighs. You can see his mind working, trying to figure out what to say. You wonder if you should be worried. Maybe you should text mom...

“[Y/N], what is my job?” 

“Uh, you run a bank don’t you? Something with finances?” 

“Very good. I run a private bank. Recently, I have gotten a lot of new clients. A lot of powerful clients.” 

“Well, that’s good.”

“As a businessman, yes it is good. But as a father, I have some worries. I want you to be safe.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” You begin to feel a bit more uneasy. This feels like a scene from a TV show or a book. It doesn’t seem like a conversation you expected to be having with you boring banker father. 

“I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared, I just want to know. I’m fourteen, I’m not a little kid that doesn’t hear when you and mom are arguing down the hall.”

He looks over at you, and sighs, a glimmer of admiration(?) in his eye. The car comes to a stop and you look up to see that you’re parked in front of a martial arts studio. 

“You’re a firecracker sometimes. Use that, [Y/N].” 

*

She tells Matt about her father, his business and how she took a years of self defense classes because he was worried. He never truly revealed what he was worried for and she began to forget about her teenage worries as she grew older and nothing ever threatened her. 

He listens, realizations dawning on him with each new piece of the puzzle she provides. Karen was telling him about a bank that was pocketed by Fisk. She said it was the hub for white collar criminals to filter their money through. It was happening on a small scale, just the inner office with a corrupt director until the CFO found out and shut down the operation. He reported the criminal activity and pissed a lot of organizations, mobs, crime lords off. The bank’s reputation was trashed in the papers and the CFO went off the grid soon after. Fisk must have chosen it to be one of his banks of choice because of the desperate need for clientele. 

Suddenly, Matt’s ears perk up. There’s noises floors down, muffled yelling and pounding footsteps. The sound of a gun crashing into the side of a skull reaches his ears, and he jumps up. 

“[Y/N], we need to leave immediately.”

“What? I--” He grabs her hands, pulling her out of the bed and gently removing the IV from her arm. She winces and uses him to support her weight as she gains her footing from laying for days. 

“They’re coming. We need to get you somewhere safe.” 

>>>Part 3<<<

#matt murdock #matt x reader #matt murdock x reader #netflix marvel #netflix daredevil #how dare they cancel #i WILL write a letter #imagine #multipart #daredevil #reader #karen page #foggy nelson #hurt comfort #Blind

[stunudo]

Gifts: Epiphany (A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction)

Featuring: JJ x Spencer             Setting: Season 7 Episodes 1-2

Inspired by: Don’t Speak by No Doubt

A/N: This is my third part of Gifts (Honesty & Shelter) from @penelope-garxia‘s Music Fest Challenge. *Again this song wasn’t on the list, but the first one was* Guys, I think we all saw this coming! Sorry guys, it starts all fluffy but... angst. Also I didn’t want to rewrite entire episodes, so there is some paraphrasing. I am sorry this is so late in the day guys. I am sick and really weepy so it changed like three times. xoxo Stu

JJ was in the shower when Spencer woke up. He wasn’t used to someone being there, using his soap and generally making his home a happier place. He decided that a trip to his favorite cafe was the best solution to waiting for a shower of his own. He grabbed some pastries, having already placed his and JJ’s coffee orders. As he walked back up the block, his cell buzzed.

“Hey, Boy Wonder, we have a case.” Garcia’s perky voice softly answered, just a little off.

“Thanks Garcia, we’ll see you in a bit,” Spencer hung up without realizing what he had said.

JJ appreciatively took the coffee while Spencer rushed through his morning routine. “Hey, Spence,” JJ called to him through the bathroom door. “Am I driving us or should we show up separately?”

Spencer hadn’t thought about it, which was unusual, as he did tend to over think things. He scowled while he brushed his teeth, wow those lines in his forehead were more noticeable with his shorter haircut. He spat, “That is up to you, hon. I don’t see it threatening to expose us, really. But I wouldn’t be offended if you, wanted to be cautious, and show up at different times” His voice was cracking as he tried to project through the wall. He returned to gurgling.

JJ paced in front of his bookshelves, reasoning and reassuring herself into distraction. When Spencer was ready, JJ eyed him appreciatively. His brows rose in surprise, “What? Never seen me freshly shaven with clean teeth before?”

JJ smirked and shook her head at his tease, following him out the door. “I’ll drive, it’s a shame we could have had the whole day.” She leaned in for a quick smooch while they were still in the safety of his hallway.

“Next time, next time.” Spencer held her hand as they headed out of his aging apartment building.

Derek was stretching himself too thin. Spencer could feel the exhaustion rolling off of the strong man’s body. But what was happening wasn’t a normal case.

“Hey guys, I thought we were getting Monday off?” JJ entered, looking more annoyed than she had seemed on the drive over.

“This isn’t a regular case. It’s Doyle.” Derek explained. The room froze, Garcia and Derek filled in the other agents. “Hotch is en route, but it is going to take him awhile to get State-side.”

JJ and Spencer shared a look, this was worth missing a day off. This was for Emily, Spencer thought. He immediately took the intelligence Morgan and Garcia had gathered and began reading. JJ approached Derek in a slightly annoyed stance.

“This is that ‘old case’?” JJ huffed.

“JJ, listen, I didn’t want to involve everyone until it was a sure thing. And it is, we have Declan and Garcia has video that puts Doyle out side the kid’s safe house.”

“I would have helped, you know that right?” JJ explained her frustrations.

“I know, and now you can.” Derek explained.

“Can what?” Rossi interjected, strolling in with his driving sun glasses still on.

JJ wasn’t sure how much Derek knew. She did know that once Hotch was back, the situation would be more manageable. The conflict between protecting Emily and her team was at a tipping point. Then Spence called from the safe house and she realized she had so much more to lose.

“What- bab- no, Reid?!” She urged as he quickly hung up. Waiting was the worst, but once Doyle moved she and Derek had other problems.

“But we buried her?” Spencer couldn’t quite grasp the depth of the revelation. Hotch was back and suddenly he was admitting that Prentiss was alive. Spencer could see everyone was different kinds of upset, but when she walked into the round table room it was like a spring breeze. Comforting and familiar.

Getting back into the search for Declan was an urgent distraction. Spencer just couldn’t shake one thing, JJ wasn’t surprised. She had stood beside Hotch during the announcement. He emphasized his guilt, because he wanted to protect Emily, but also JJ. The gnawing feeling began to clutch his stomach, he pushed it away. It was time to work the case.

Admittedly there were no good options left. When the team came up empty on finding Declan at the warehouse, Spencer broadened the possibilities. If Emily could come back from the dead, surely they could use Doyle to ensure the safety of his son. It wasn’t a safe decision, but Dr. Spencer Reid was done playing it safe.

Our memories They can be inviting But some are altogether mighty Frightening

He had put his career on the line. After killing a female suspect, endangering his team with the exchange of Declan for Doyle, Spencer did not seek reinstatement. However he would not let his team falter, he defended them calmly and with facts. The relief that they had been cleared and the surreal bliss of Penelope removing Emily’s portrait from the wall of the fallen had kick-started his heart.

His joy had been a glimmer, Emily had to think about her return. Chief Strauss knew that she needed talent like Prentiss back in the BAU. The group exhaled when Emily gave in, she was coming home. That type of joy is so treasured because it is only known for a moment. It is fleeting and allusive. ‘Nothing gold can stay.’

JJ was relieved to have Emily back. The team was back, plus she still held on to the profiler title. Now she could be completely honest with Spencer, no more late night hidden Scramble sessions. The trauma that had drawn them together was slowly being mended, they could be happy, together. She didn’t mind when he didn’t answer her phone call on Friday.

It was odd when she didn’t hear back from him by Saturday night. She tried again, texting and leaving messages. She hoped he was alright. Spencer would have called if he had to fly to Vegas, wouldn’t he? They were always in contact with each other before, wouldn’t it be more so now? Now that they had slept together? Now that they were a couple? They were together, weren’t they?

It looks as though you're letting go And if it's real well I don't want to know

JJ knew this panic was ridiculous, right? This was Spence. He wasn’t a ‘hit it and quit it’ guy. No, he was a bleeding heart. And someone who had gone through a helluva week. And who was she? She was his girlfriend that had been lying to him for the past seven months. The guilty tears’ source was revealed. She lay awake that night, thinking of ways to talk to him.

Don't speak I know what you're thinkin' I don't need your reasons

“Charm’s quite the killer.” JJ said at the bus stop, her hair floating on the breeze.

“So are tears.” Spencer retorted. His anger was pushing him in ways he hadn’t expected. The victims were so similar to her description and still Spencer couldn’t bring it in himself to cool his tongue. He kept the case as his focus, allowing the tension to boil within him.

“And instead of dealing with it, he’s acting out.” JJ looked at Spencer. Calling him on his immature handling of his anger over her role in the secret. She knew Spencer was passionate, that was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. Being at the receiving end of his anger was jarring. She had accepted her piece of the Emily scenario, but she was not backing down. He just needed to get it out of his system, then they could work past it. Together.

Don't speak I know just what you're sayin' So please stop explainin' Don't tell me cause it hurts Don't speak

Spencer was disgusted with himself when he played the addict card. Though it was true, there were nights early on that he wanted any escape from the darkening sadness. Dilaudid would have made it easy to dampened that grief. JJ thought he was disappointed? No, this was beyond that.

She apologized once she realized how serious he was. She was honestly confused when he had even mentioned it. This was a mantle he bore in silence for so long. Why was it so difficult for the people closest to him to remember his daily battle? He couldn’t look into those eyes anymore, not with the team watching their exchange. She was tearing up and he was burning rage.

Spencer left to continue the case, not because he was afraid to finish it. He was afraid how far he would take it. Then Hotch came to her defense? Not even the impartial chief would have forgiven JJ if he knew that she had stolen Spencer’s heart in the interim. After everything they had been through together, Jennifer and Spence, was this it? Could he trust her again? How had he let himself become so vulnerable? Why did he have to love her?

Had he meant what he said? Was it too late for apologies?

I really feel That I'm losing my best friend I can't believe, this could be The end?

JJ kept her distance after the blow up at the precinct in Oklahoma. She watched as Emily pleaded her case on the jet. Spence was quiet with the brunette, but he wasn’t hostile. JJ remembered buying him the navy plaid shirt he was wearing. She was right, the smaller size made him look amazing. It hurt to think that there may not be any more gifts exchanged between them. No more quiet mornings or inside jokes.

She tricked herself into thinking she could still smell his place on her coat, the dusty books and spices from dinner. Would that be the only night they spent together? How long would it be before she couldn’t remember his lips on her? Oh god, what about Henry? No, she pushed the defeatist attitude away. This was not over, how could it be? When she still needed him every second?

Garcia had to say something. She just had to. Her romantic radar had sensed something had been different the past few months. As soon as the drama from Emily’s return had calmed down, it had dawned on her. That one phone call ringing in her mind with the word “we’ll”. Knowing that the team was back together wasn’t enough. She needed all her beautiful babies to be happy. If her fellow genius was in pain, she would be damned if she would let him sabotage the best thing he had.

She was waiting for Spencer at his apartment when he got back from the late flight. Her bright ensemble a spotlight in the drab hallway.

“Garcia?” Spencer asked concerned.

“Listen, Einstein,” Garcia began. “You need to get over your shit. JJ did her job. You would have done the same thing if it meant saving Emily or Derek, or even me.”

Spencer’s dark eyes stared at the blonde’s brutal assault. “Garcia, its not just the job. I don’t know if I can trust her right now.”

“What has changed, Reid?” Garcia huffed, hands on her hips. “Don’t be all evasive like I don’t know you’ve seen each other’s under armor!” Spencer blushed, his eyes bulging. “Yes, I know, okay, I am the all knowing Penelope after all.”

“But if she can hide this, what else is she capable of, Garcia?” Spencer’s voice cracked, the fear behind the pain surfacing now. She shuffled across to him, hugging her lanky friend.

“Reid, there is only one way of knowing if this is worth it. Do you still love her?” Garcia asked in a hushed voice. Spencer didn’t answer, but he nodded into her embrace. “Even if she hurts you in the end?” Spencer nodded. “So you’re not scared of loving her, you’re scared of being hurt. You’re a goddamn FBI agent, you’re hurt ALL the time. It’s what makes the good things worth it. And this is a good thing, Doc. A very good thing.”

Spencer pulled away, sniffling slightly. “Uh, thanks, Garcia. I’m not sure what I am going to do now, but thank you for being here. Are you,” he cleared his throat. “Are you going to Rossi’s? That was your cooking class thing right?”

When JJ arrived at Dave’s estate she was nervous. She had stopped herself from calling Spence six times in varying degrees of anger and remorse. She knew it was up to him to make the attempt at reconciliation, he was the one that had labeled it ‘too late’. She tried not to think about Henry and how it would be for their dynamic going forward. JJ wore her hair back and put on some confidence inducing big earrings. She was going to have fun and wine. If Spence decided to show up, fine. It was fine.

Then he did show up. In an awful striped shirt and blazer. But there he was, smiling at her as she melted. The toast was shared and she could feel his tender expression on her profile. Once they had finally sat down to eat their various pasta concoctions, she could truly see him. His brown eyes were relaxed and the rage had dissipated.

“So? What’s the diagnosis?” JJ whispered. “Are we going to pull through?”

Spencer tilted his head, looking away while calculating his response. But his long fingers had found her hand under the table. “I would like to discuss this later. But know that prognosis is favorable.” He smirked at her. His rosy lips in an underutilized position. She grinned back.

She held his hand, despite the need to spool her noddles on to her fork. She held on because this is what mattered. Jennifer and Spence, holding hands in secret while eating with the team. Hold on to your dear ones, before it is too late.

@dontshootmespence @reiding-and-writing @cherry-loves-fanfic @gubl-oser @milkandcookies528  @criminallyoddsocks @penelope-garxia @reidoneshots @reidbyers @speedreiding @rmmalta

#Criminal Minds #jj x spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #jeid #Dr Reid x Jennifer Jareau #angst #criminal minds fanfictions #spencer reid #ssa jennifer jareau #drug addiction #grief #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #penelope garcia

[dzamie]

Fuckton of OC questions: HM

Questions from @liaraliara‘s post here. Doing these for HM, will do more for other characters eventually, whether y’all want me to or not.

anyway so the prompt is clearly intended for, like, normal human OCs rather than murderous dragons, but let’s see where this goes

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything? H.M. Deshulian. The initials stand for [DATA REMOVED], although he’s rather sensitive about anyone he doesn’t fully trust knowing that. And by “sensitive” I mean “vicious and lethal.”

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them? At least one town calls him the Green Reaper, which he’s rather proud of, but often times, much of his antics are attributed to Dzamie, a fact that annoys both of them.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?  Rather average for a dragon, actually. Instead of sparring with clutchmates or playfighting with his parents, he and Dzamie would hone their skills against each other - particularly useful, as it gave Dzamie experience against a real dragon, and HM experience against a dragonslayer’s style of fighting. Regardless, he certainly didn’t go hungry, and keeping the warm-blooded and soft-furred Dzamie around kept him comfy at night (the Katul eventually got used to being used like a mattress).

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?  Has no clue who his father is or was. His mother is definitely dead; there is no need to go looking for her, especially if you’re a dragonslayer tracking a large bounty. He will eat anyone who claims to the contrary.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? Dzamie’s his half-brother. They’re very close, despite what seem like occasional attempts to kill the other. The two have gotten closer since childhood, owing in part to spending most of their lives around each other and also a mental link that they often forget about.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? HM associates “school” with dragonslayers, and thus doesn’t think too highly of it. He’s great at mechanical and electrical engineering, though. Not sure where he learned it.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?  He had approximately one friend, who happened to have spotted fur and a full set of dragonslaying gear. Other friends generally didn’t stay long or died. Being around either Deshulian is pretty dangerous, since one is a danger magnet and the other seems to seek out violence.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? Occasionally jokes that he has a rambunctious cheetah as a pet. He likes animals! They’re usually very tasty!

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?  He tends to terrify animals. This means their instincts are functioning well.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect? Can’t stand ‘em. Generally asks permission to maim and/or eat them after about 10 minutes of being around them, grants himself permission anyway after another 10.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies? 100% carnivore, ideally live, sapient food. Vegetables and grains are mildly poisonous, though a built-up resistance means they just taste bad and don’t do anything for him.

12. What is their favourite food?  Dzamie.

13. What is their least favourite food? Porcupines. Far too much effort and risk for such a little reward.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal? Nothing in particular.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking? He can stop meat from being raw, but he’s not good at making it appetizing for non-dragons.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?  A nice hoard of shiny stuff - gold, gems, armor, stolen won weapons, and a few trophies with the nameplates removed that he refuses to tell anyone where he got them.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos? Nah. Cameras are hard to work with his paws.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else He likes racing games and Smash Bros, is a fan of what he nebulously describes as “flying music,” and most any movie or book with a dragon protagonist (at least, the ones where it’s not “yeah he’s a dragon but he spends 99% of the time looking human because reasons”).

19. What’s their least favourite genres? Death metal for music, rhythm games, and soap operas. For books, it’s a tie between romance novels and historical fiction and nonfiction.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes? Theaters rarely allow dragons, especially dragons with his body count track record. Music’s definitely more Dzamie’s thing, but he’s got a few songs he likes. When a song he enjoys comes on, he’ll usually at least move his head to the beat, fall in step with it, or time his flaps to the music.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper? It’s pretty hard to make him truly lose his temper, but that rarely matters because “kill and possibly eat non-dragons in the immediate area” isn’t too high up on his reactions scale. When he does get truly angry, the best course of action is to either return the important hoard thing to him and pray for mercy, or to vacate the surrounding twenty miles or so immediately.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back? He doesn’t usually see a reason to insult people. He knows where he is on the food chain.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces? He can recall every bit of treasure in his hoard, and has also memorized pretty much all of the pseudo-laws he has to follow as per the agreement with the dragonslayers’ guild. Knows it better than most actual dragonslayers, really.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress? Generally diurnal. Does not snore, prefers to sleep on Dzamie, part of his hoard, or a firm mattress, in that order.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves? He finds dramatic irony to be the absolute best, particularly when it involves someone underestimating him or Dzamie.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?  He tends to hold his head higher, and his tail swishes back and forth, or taps whatever it’s resting on if he’s lying down - though he’s careful to make sure it lands with the flat of the blade, so as not to accidentally ruin whatever he’s sitting happily on.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad? I don’t think he’s ever actually been sad, at least for long.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared? Death, so generally only an angry Dzamie or Kenneth can actually scare him. Or a literal deity, or the few dragons who are significantly stronger than he is. When scared, he pretty much throws up all the defensive spells he knows and tries to escape the situation. Also scary: seeing Dzamie running very quickly away from, not towards, something. “Tactical retreat” means the cheetah annoyed someone strong; “flat out booking it” means everything in its path is is in peril.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?  Tease or exploit, depending on if he likes that person.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out? HM likes to fly and fight rampage/slaughter, but he’s not much for structured exercise. If someone does get him to work out, he’s generally grumpy going into it and ready to set several things and/or people on fire afterwards.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing? Nope. Drunk firebreathers are a bad idea.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like? He sometimes wears his wingblades, but for the most part he’s completely naked. Scales are handy.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties? Once more, quadrupedal dragons tend not to wear clothes.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body? At his usual size, HM’s about 3′6″ at the shoulder, carrying his head just under 6′. If he undoes his size transformation (or it’s forcibly undone), he’s roughly two stories high. He’s very fond of every part of his body, especially his jaws (he has a very strong bite, and has paralytic saliva if he so chooses).

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?  His guilty pleasure is letting Dzamie rub or scratch him in just the right places. He purrs for very few people. His unguilty pleasure is probably wanton destruction. Or eating Dzamie, though that involves significantly less fire.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing? To quote TF2′s Spy, “your deadly skill is jogging? Mine is murdering people!” Though, to HM’s credit, he really just hunts a lot; most of his kills vanish down his throat. He’s definitely fond of the whole violence thing. He can sing, to an extent. He doesn’t have the best range, and he doesn’t really compare to a human or Katul singer, but he’s better than the average dragon.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction? He’ll read short things if Dzamie suggests them, but is otherwise uninterested.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had? Strength and fighting ability (and taste, but he doesn’t envy that). He does wish he had the quick spellcrafting of Kenneth or Dzamie’s impressive range of abilities.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?  Emails. He’s accidentally incinerated too many would-be important letters to be fond of them.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert? He sees energy drinks and stuff like that to be human things. Sweet things are nice, especially when his prey is covered in it, but a fine-tuned survival instinct keeps him as awake as he generally needs to be.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship? Physically, 100% into dragonesses. Human women are a nice substitute, but he tends not to think highly of them (though, considering his baseline for humans is “food”...). He generally isn’t much for long-term relationships, though Dream is an exception - primarily by way of being more a friend-with-benefits than a romantic partner.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition? His goal is to have a very big hoard, and possibly see if he can’t start a cult that ends up occasionally sacrificing a member to him or something. He’d sacrifice anything but Dzamie’s life to preserve his own, and anything but his own life to save Dzamie’s. His secret ambition is to be able to solidly beat Dzamie in a fight - they’ve always been pretty even.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people? HM is not religious at all. He acknowledges the existence of some deities, generally because either he or HM has met several of them (again, some of the few times one can actually see them actively prepare many layers of backup escape plans), but isn’t interested in worshipping anyone. He’s generally neutral about most religious and nonreligious people, and hasn’t quite made up his mind about the religious ones who think he’s a demon to exorcise - on one hand, they’re annoying, on the other, they’re generally unprepared enough that they make an easy snack.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?  Summer. Dragon likes heat. He complains about the snow a lot, and generally doesn’t leave his fuzzy heat source Dzamie’s side during the wintertime.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?  As a violent psychopath who’d probably eat the world if it was feasible and tasty enough. He’d agree.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves? He can make a good first impression - he’s not completely tactless, and can even hold a small Facade for a while. It’s pretty quick to tell his personality, though. HM prefers to introduce himself a couple seconds after his most recent victim dies, but, to his distaste, he far more often introduces himself in a more normal manner.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event? He can act all proper and stuff, especially if Dzamie’s nearby to give him pointers, but not for an extended period of time. He prefers to wear as little as necessary, but will put on a few things to keep up appearances when needed. He enjoys chit chat to the extent that it can lure unsuspecting prey towards a secluded area.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?  He does actually host more casual parties somewhat often. Generally, his guests are dragons, though occasionally a Serperior or a sphinx has shown up. He’s actually a pretty good host. Though, remarkably often, he and a bunch of guests end up in a scaly pile on or around Dzamie when they awake.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them? Well, there’s Dzamie.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials? A water bottle and as much of his favorite non-Dzamie things from his hoard as will fit. Everything else necessary can be found pretty easily, especially as a flying, magical dragon.

#text #ocs #hm #tag

[bellabooks]

“Pretty Little Liars” recap S7 Ep 13: Hold Your Piece

Previously on Pretty Little Liars, Emily was up to her ears in dyke drama and Hanna was attacked by the one thing she loved most: designer shoes. We open at the Hastings barn, where Spencer wakes up to the sound of a crying baby from A.D.’s board game phone. Despite lowering the volume and turning off the phone, the crying persists, driving Spencer nuts. She calls the Liars over (except for Ali, who is Out Of Town this week) and each Liar refuses to take the phone home with them…until Hanna lays her hands on it. Guess it’s Hanna’s turn to play the game. Hanna also says that Alison’s married name, Alison Rollins, sounds like a mouthful of muffin. Incidentally, Mouthful of Muffin sounds like a delightful romantic comedy about two gals who open a bakery together. Okay, the film opens on two cute girls innocently kneading some dough…   Hanna’s dress has landed in style sections and blogs, but before she can celebrate, Emily finds a blogger blind item calling the dress stolen. Also, Hanna still hasn’t told Caleb about the board game, which makes no sense…like, he’s been involved in seven years of A shenanigans, why keep him out of the loop now? Spencer is at the Brew, where she runs into Toby, who tells her that Yvonne woke up from her coma. As he rushes back to the hospital, Spencer sees Det. Marco wearing a sweater so tight you can see his nips. He invites her out for a day of awkward flirting, and tells her it will make him feel better for not finding the person who shot her. UGH what is wrong with men. Wanna waste some time with me and my overly sheer sweater? Wanna find the person who shot me?   Aria and Hanna decide to track down Sydney to see if she’ll drop a trail of bread crumbs that lead to Jenna. Aria needs the distraction, since every time she turns on the TV she’s met with Nicole and Ezra frolicking in Central Park with their miraculous love. Hanna gets a text from A.D. and there’s an ominous knock at the door. Who could it be? It’s a dummy with Hanna’s face sewn on! The dummy has a cord in the back that, when pulled, tells Hanna to look for the appendix. Hannaquin 2: On the Move!   Caleb sees the Hannaquin and immediately knows it’s a classic A move. He pulls out a big ol’ bag of spy stuff for the Liars to stalk Sydney with, and heads to the barn to hack his way into the board game. Meanwhile, Hanna goes through every appendix in every book in the loft, before realizing that it’s of course the Hannaquin’s appendix inside the doll body. Lucas swings by the loft to remind Hanna that they have a meeting with Japanese investors that night. Hanna is pumped for the meeting and ready to show off her designs. What could possibly go wrong?  Hanna, I’m not leaving you for this Hannaquin. This beautiful, sexy Hannaquin…   There’s also a big chunk of time spent on Marco and Spencer playing ping pong in a children’s after school program, where they flirt and we learn SO MUCH about Marco’s sad childhood. SNOOZE. There’s seven episodes of this series left, and guess what mystery I don’t want solved? Knockoff Toblerone’s sob story. Why are they spending time on this? It’s even more frustrating when we realize that Yvonne is definitely gonna die in this episode. How do we know Yvonne is going to die? Let’s look at the evidence: she spends the entire episode planning her fantasy future with Toby after they have a quickie hospital wedding. Sorry Yvonne, but I know my way around a soap opera, and this is classic soap. It’s been nice knowing you Yvonne. So I’m dying AND I don’t get a love story with Emily? This show sucks.   Back at the loft, Hanna has prepped a Dexter-worthy kill room and begins the operation of Hannaquin. She cuts the doll open and removes a bloody plastic bag with a pair of kitchen tongs. The bag contains a dress for her to wear for her investor’s meeting, which can best be described as a racist Halloween costume. Meanwhile, Emily and Aria team up to cyber-stalk Sydney, and find that she’s now a world traveling banker with a swanky apartment in Fishtown (clearly the gayest of the Philadelphia suburbs). They find pics of Sydney taking photos of the senator’s daughter, leading them to believe that she leaked the stolen dress story on Jenna’s behalf. Could Sydney be the second shooter? Could Emily be moving to Fishtown? So many questions, and so few answers. Emily, I promise, once we’re done sleuthing we’ll look for a tasteful two bedroom in Fishtown.   Also, I refuse to write more about this Spencer scene, but I just wanted to let you know that I wrote “this guy blows” about Marco no less than three times. Emily and Aria pull up to Sydney’s office, and Aria starts hacking into the office wifi like she’s some sort of Mona. Apparently, Caleb taught her all about hacking in like, an hour, which is surprising to Emily since Aria spent most of 9th grade with her phone on airplane mode. Emily sees Sydney leaving the office and goes to follow her. Emily tries to pretend that she accidently ran into Sydney, but Sydney sees right through her. Emily Fields: great lesbian, horrible liar. She questions Sydney, who reveals that she only took the photos to help Jenna with a practical joke, and that they drifted apart. Likely story. You’re my OKCupid date? I need to move to a town with more than 5 lesbians.   Emily hops back in the car with Aria, and they tail Sydney to a vision center, where they overhear her making a deposit for Jenna’s new eyeballs. You know, that old eyeball layaway gambit. Sydney says that the deposit should read from A.D. aka anonymous donor, and Aria realizes that A.D. is paying Jenna off, possibly for luring the Liars to the blind school. The plot thickens! Emily and Aria storm up to Sydney, where Aria Montgomery of all people plays the bad cop! She slams Sydney into the wall and demands to know what she’s hiding. Damn, where’s this girl been for seven seasons? Sydney says that the deposit was just a favor for one of the bank’s clients, and warns the Liars to stay away from Jenna. Aria hands her back her yoga bag, and Sydney says “Namaste, bitch” which is delightful. Sydney also calls Aria a chihuahua, which is hilarious because they both have big eyes and look constantly scared. What dogs would the other Liars be? Emily would probs be an Irish Setter, Hanna would be a fancy poodle, and Spencer would be an Weimaraner. Mona would obviously be a Persian cat. In the kerfuffle, Aria planted a tracker in Sydney’ bag, so they can keep tabs on her. These two are giving me serious Cagney and Lacey vibes. I came here to date creepers and kick ass, and I’m all out of creepers! JK they’re everywhere.   Spencer arrives home to find Caleb examining the board game. He is literally examining it with a stethoscope, which looks ridiculous. Maybe after he’s done he’ll give the board game a lollipop. Spencer and Caleb haven’t really spent any time together since they broke up, but they both agree that they want to be friends, and then remark over how easy it is to go back to normal. This is bananas, because no one would be that blasé about screwing their best friend’s boyfriend. Some of us still hide behind cars/fruit stands/other people when we see our exes, I’m just sayin’. Who knew these props from our Grey’s Anatomy roleplay would come in handy?   Before they can share a drink and reminisce about the times before they boned, Caleb pries up a piece of the board game and gets blasted in the face with poison gas. He starts choking, and Spencer calls 911. Damn, this board game is elaborate. I would not be surprised if this thing grew teeth and tried to take a bite out of the Liars at this point. Hanna shows up at Radley wearing a trench coat over her terrible dress. She tells Lucas that no matter what goes down in the meeting, she’ll always be grateful to him for taking a chance on her and being such a good friend. Before the meeting can even start, she finds out that Caleb is in the hospital and splits, leaving Lucas with her dresses and sketches. Caleb is recuperating in the hospital when Hanna rushes in. He’s worried that A.D. will be angry about her messing up the game, but Hanna doesn’t care. She later gets a text saying she won’t be getting a puzzle piece, which, whatever. The Liars talk about how unfair the game is, and realize that the goal of the game is to keep them off-kilter and bickering at each other. Spencer goes to visit Yvonne, only to find a devastated Toby: Yvonne is dead. Aria arrives home to Ezra’s apartment and sees a shadowing figure waiting for her. She grabs a knife, but it turns out to be Nicole. Chihuahua powers activate!   Det. Marco opens an envelope from A.D. that contains a moldy old severed finger. Is it from Mrs. DiLaurentis? Or Bethany Young? Or some other dead person? Tune in next week, when we find out who killed Jessica DiLaurentis, and just how much gas is in that board game. Tweet me your feels/Liar-dog pairings at @ChelseaProcrast http://dlvr.it/P3hJ1d

#Television #PLL #Pretty Little Liars