#i’ll draw all the manhunt boys

[mushyruuu-art]

manhunt [p1]

#gnf #gnf fanart #georgenotfound #georgenotfound fanart #404blr #minecraft manhunt #archer gnf makes me so happy 😤 #i’ll draw all the manhunt boys #wait for me #artists on tumblr #my art

[eideticmemory]

BETTER OFF AS LOVERS | SPENCER REID

Three years after ending your relationship with Spencer Reid, you find yourself representing him in court on federal murder charges.

Word Count: 12k.

Warning/Includes: MAJOR CW for Spencer’s dilaudid arc and graphic mentions of drug use. Prison!Spencer, Lawyer!Reader. Bounces between the past and present through bold italics. Mentions of murder, prison, and violence. A little bit of smut.

Because both you and Spencer are compulsive overachievers, it’s been hard to ignore each other. He saves a kids life every other week and your quick wit has taken you to the (very near) top of the DC law food chain. He picks up a newspaper, you’re smiling arm in arm with the district attorney. You turn on the TV, he’s up there declaring national manhunts. It’s hard to avoid each other, but you have both tried so, very hard.

So hard, in fact, that when Spencer is lying in a jail cell, waiting for any sign of life to shine through the bars, he is not even thinking about you. He’s thinking about his mom. His job. His future. His very recent past. But not you. And even though he doesn’t realize it in the moment, it’s a blessing. He should’ve taken the moment to be grateful.

When Emily comes up to his cell, he hops up and all the thoughts stuck in his head rush out in word vomit. Why isn’t she in the office? How is the office? How’s his mom? And once he learns that everything else is perfectly fine, he remembers that he, alone, is fucked.

And Emily’s very good at that soft voice, that everything will be okay voice, but she doesn’t know that. Not really. Spencer knows that she doesn’t and he swallows himself in self pity, saying, “I don’t even have a lawyer.”

“About that…” Emily says before a beat can pass. “I, um…I made a call…”

Spencer tilts his head at her.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

You’re eating lunch when you get the call. You have a sandwich held in your mouth as you scribble notes on a legal pad which you promptly cross out.

“Miss [y/l/n]?” your receptionist announces herself at the door.

You drop your sandwich, “Hey,” you smile. “Yes?”

“You have an Emily Prentiss on the line for you. Do you want me to patch her through?”

Your smile drops, you can’t help it. Your heart sinks to the very bottom of your stomach and you have to clear your throat, remind yourself to breathe.

“No,” you shake your head. “No,” you stand to your feet. “No, thank you. I’ll answer her in here.”

You close your office door behind her. You close the blinds. You stare at the blinking light on the phone for what feels like hours. You take a seat at your desk, you stare some more. Then you pick up the phone.

“This is [y/n].”

“Hi, [y/n]. It’s Emily Prentiss.”

“Emily…” you breathe out. “Hey.”

“Do you have a moment to talk?”

You sigh, “Is…is this about Spencer?”

Emily pauses, just for a moment, but she knows it’s best to be honest, “It is.”

“Is he dead?” It seems blunt. But, to you, it sounds like a fair and natural question.

Emily clears her throat, “He’s in jail.”

Maybe she expected a gasp. A soft cry. But all you do is close your eyes and draw in a deep breath. You say, “Okay.”

“Now, I understand if you decline. I do. But I have to ask…are you available to come to Quantico for a legal consult with me? Just me?”

You stare at the ceiling, grinding your teeth so hard that you think your jaw may crack under the pressure. And in the span of just two hours, you tell her yes. You reschedule your afternoon meeting. You walk through a metal detector and pat down in Quantico. Yet, you’re not truly in your body until you step on the elevator. You feel yourself rising through the building and the familiarity of it hits you like lightening. You think, not now. You cannot break down now.

Later.

You stand and look over at Spencer’s empty desk, only for a moment and then you tear yourself away. You knock on Emily’s open door and she immediately stands when you sees you, “[y/n], hi,” she moves around her desk, “Hi, thanks for coming.”

You give her a hug, and she holds on for longer than she means to. She looks you in the eye and asks, “How are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

She sighs, walking back to her desk as you close the door. “We’ve been better.”

You take a seat across from her, look around the office, and now you smile, “I like you in here, chief.”

She chuckles, “I assume you heard about Hotch?”

You nod, “I did…only courthouse rumblings.”

“Yeah, well, uh, team’s been good,” she rummages around her desk. “Pushing through. I see you’ve climbed the ladder in recent years.”

You shrug, smirking, “All bribes.”

She laughs, “Oh, c’mon, we both know that’s not true. You’re the best of the best. I wouldn’t have called you if you weren’t.”

And when she sees the light go out in your eyes, reminded by the reality of the situation, she does nothing but set the file in front of you. You exhale quickly out of your nose and you stare at Spencer’s name etched along the edge. You pick it up and place it in your lap, ducking your head to read it. His mugshots nearly make you gasp, but you stifle it. You put your finger to your lips and you try. You try so hard not react. Not in front of Emily, even though she can read you anyway.

You read the entire file. Front to back. Your eyes flick off of the last word and you slam the manilla folder closed. You look up at Emily, her looking at you, waiting for you, so patiently. You open your mouth, and she prepares herself for whatever you could say. Anything. Everything. She’s prepared.

You breath out, “He was high?”

She was not prepared for that.

She shakes her head, “He was drugged. The guy we’re after is notorious for using drugs to incapacitate his victims.”

You nod, “And let me guess. The bureau won’t help with his legal defense?”

She shakes her head, “He broke protocol.”

You roll your eyes, “Stupid…”

“[y/n],” she calls to you.

You look up at her, raising your eyebrows.

“I understand if you don’t wanna be involved. I know defense isn’t your normal side of the bench. But I meant it when I said you’re the best of the best. When I didn’t know who else to call, I called you. That doesn’t mean you have to agree to this.”

You look out the window and your eyes fall on Spencer’s desk once again. It is empty like he has not been there for weeks, lifeless. You turn back to Emily, “Where are they holding him?”

In the dead of night, you burst into the law library in town. It was pouring rain outside and when the receptionist saw you drenched and leaving muddy footprints behind you, she asked, “You need any help, hon?”

“No, thank you,” you called, but you did not stop moving. You marched over to the torts section, you knew it all by heart. You swiped your fingers over every author, noting the alphabet in your head and you were slightly enraged to find that the book you needed was missing. You groaned and checked again. Then again and again. You sighed. You looked around the dimly lit library and it was almost instant. You saw his table, you saw the book, and then you saw him.

And before you really knew what you were doing, you were walking up to him and he was so entranced in reading that he didn’t even look up at you.

“How much longer are you gonna be?” you asked him. And then he looked at you. You thought, oh wow he’s pretty, but you were on a mission here.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“With the book. How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

“Uh…I probably have…about a hundred pages left so…five, six minutes maybe?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Are you fucking with me?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, an awkward laugh, an uncomfortable laugh, but mainly an oh fuck a pretty girl is talking to me laugh. “No. No. You can…sit and watch, I swear. Time me if you want.”

You looked at him, arms crossed. You checked your watch and nodded, taking a seat, “Fine. Five minutes. Go.”

He gave you a small smile and then went back to it. You watched him trace his fingertip down the page, flick to the next one and down he traced again. You were curious. But irritated. But intrigued? You checked your watch with one minute to go and he went, “Okay, done,” and slid the book across the table.

You caught it in your palm, and looked up at him, “You are so full of shit.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you just read all of that in five minutes. There’s no way.”

“But there is a way because I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

He laughed, “I can recite it all to you right now. Front to back.”

“Where are you?” he seemed confused by this question so you continued, “Hm? George Washington? UDC?”

“Quantico.”

“Oh, you are so full of shit!” you went to grab the book and leave but he wasn’t ready for you to go.

“No, no, wait. Seriously. Look at my badge,” he pulled it right out of his bag. “I just got it today.”

You took a look, and when it wasn’t clear enough, you stepped closer, held it in your hands.

Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit.

You handed it back to him, “Never met a twelve year old fed.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected you. “And, uh…I get that a lot.”

“And what does a twenty-three year old fed need with a first year law book?”

He shrugged, “Just light reading.”

You rolled your eyes and he could just tell that you wanted to smile and so he smiled so big at you, hoping it would rub off.

“Book’s all yours,” he said. “I’ll find another.”

No smile.

“A-a-and if you’d like to…I-I don’t know…stay out of the rain, I’d…like it if you’d…maybe sit and read with me?”

You bit down on your lip and you hesitated, looked around as you weighed your options. Then, you took a seat. He grinned over at you as you flipped the book open and it was there.

Small, but a smile.

Back in holding, Spencer sits. He waits. He digs his nails into the bandage on his hand and his knee won’t stop bouncing. The same thoughts rush through his head, but every so often they are cut off by images of you. Every you. Every season. The last time he saw you. His breath catches so tightly in his chest that he actually hunches over in pain, squeezes his fist. His eyes keep darting towards the door, anxious, quick, hoping you’ll come. Hoping you won’t.

What gives it away is your heels. They’re fast and they’re loud, a rapid click-clack-click-clack on the floor. He sits up straight, holds his hands in his lap, forces his leg to stop shaking. Emily walks in first, and in behind her comes you. Picture perfect, dolled up, professional you. Your eyes connect and it should make him nauseous. Instead, his body relaxes. You’re the one that’s nauseous.

“Well,” Emily says to cut the tension. “I know this is an legal meeting so I’ll just give you two some privacy.” And she gets the hell out of there.

You step to the side as the door closes behind her. You set your brief case down on the table and have a seat. As the two of you sit in silence, Spencer feels that you’re judging him. Scolding him, staring him down. But all you’re thinking about is how much his hair has grown, from his head and from his face and underneath it all, he is still him.

You clear your throat, look away, “I’m obligated to remind you that everything you share here is kept confidential by attorney-client privilege.”

“I didnt use,” he spits out.

You pause, your eyes cutting up to him. He is staring into your soul. He wants you to hear him.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head. “I wouldnt. I swear.”

You have to let that simmer in the air for a moment. You have to swallow it like a large pill, let it force its way down your throat and into your stomach. Through your bloodstream.

“I believe you,” you say. “Tell me what happened.”

“I-I…I did not kill her.”

You nod, “…okay. What else.”

“I-I…don’t remember anything else.”

“Well that…doesn’t help me here. It doesn’t matter if you say you didn’t kill her and you know that. What matters is evidence. The facts of the case.”

“I’m telling you I don’t remember anything, [y/n]. If I did, I would tell you but the entire thing is a-a blur.”

“And I’m telling you I can’t do anything with that.”

“Just… tell me what you really want to say.”

You consider it.

“I’m not here to judge you,” you tell him. “I’m here to build you a legal defense.”

“Whatever’s going through your head, I can take it,” he huffs. “Tell me.”

You purse your lips at him. You shake your head. But he insists. He peers into your eyes in waiting. Begging.

You inhale and with a hefty wave of breath, you shout, “Going to Mexico? Not telling anyone where you are? Smuggling experimental drugs across the border? Are you serious?”

He nods. He takes the blows as they land.

“Do you even comprehend the shit hole that you’ve dug for yourself? I mean, honestly, you-you should go to prison for at least,” you pinch your fingers. “A little bit because it should be a crime to be this stupid with an IQ that high,” and you punctuate it all with a sigh of relief.

Spencer sniffles, “Feel better?”

“No,” you say instantly. And you say this next part very clearly, “Because I can’t promise you that you won’t go to prison.”

The reason that you and Spencer worked so well together, you think - you thought - is that there was a certain amount of independence. After your meeting in the library, after all the pulling he did to sweep you off your feet, you decided that yes, you could do this. You could have a boyfriend who traveled for work. You could handle not seeing him for days or weeks on end. Just in your second year of law school, you thought: I will never have time to miss him. I will drown in school work and textbooks until he returns. It will not phase me. It will not change me.

Then you kind of fell in love with him. And suddenly you always, always had time to miss him.

“Hey,” you found yourself smiling when he called. On the other side of the country, it was only nine but you were in DC still studying at midnight.

“Hey, honey,” Spencer cooed. “I knew you’d be awake.”

“Like I could sleep at a time like this? No, thank you, this is all nighter territory.”

“Sorry I won’t be there the day of your exam.”

“Don’t worry about it. They need you out there more than I do.”

“I know, I know, I’d just slow you down,” he laughed.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” you nodded. “But…I miss you…wish you were here to slow me down.”

“Soon.”

“I know.”

“And, y’know, if we just moved into together, it could be even sooner.”

“Ooh, yeah, and we could get a plant too and watch it die a slow death because no one’s ever home.”

He cackled, quieted down as he whispered, “Just…try to actually get some sleep, okay? You can’t pass your exam if you’re exhausted. And make sure you have a good breakfast. A real breakfast, not coffee and some pop tarts. At least toaster strudels, okay? And afterwards, take yourself out for lunch or-or take someone with you. But don’t sit and think about it and drive yourself crazy. You’re gonna do great. You always do.”

You nodded, stifling a soft laugh, “Yes, doctor. Anything else?”

He shrugs to himself, “Just that I miss you. I can’t wait to see you.”

You grinned, “Soon.”

When your alarm went off at seven in the morning, you checked your phone to see that Spencer had woken himself up, three hours behind, to send you a message.

Two words: Toaster strudels!!!!

And over the next few days, you were truly too busy to miss him. You took your exam at ten o’clock on the dot and you took his advice, you went out to lunch. You thought about the exam only a little bit, to run through it with your friends before you started day drinking, and then there was nothing to do but wait. Keep yourself busy.

As soon as the jet lifted off, Spencer called you. Your phone was buried at the bottom of your bag, which was swinging against your hip as you walked across campus. You didn’t realize it was ringing until the very last second and by the time you pulled it out, he had already left you a voicemail.

As you waded through the crowd to see your posted exam score, you held the phone to your ear and listened.

“Hey! Hey, [y/n], we’re, uh, on the way back now. Safe and sound. I should be there by this afternoon. Uh, let me know if you get your exam results, okay? I’m so excited to see you. Call me when you can.”

Posted on the wall was the glare of your future, staring you in the face, chewing into your soul and you dropped the phone back in your bag.

When Spencer landed and still hadn’t heard from you, he slowly came to expect bad news. He bought you flowers on the way home, he called you, he texted multiple times to tell you he’d be coming over. He walked up to his apartment solely to drop off his things and before he could get to the door, he stopped in his tracks.

You stood up quickly, your face breaking out into a wide smile. Your hands shook and all you could say was, “I passed! I-I passed!”

And in an instant, he dropped everything except your flowers and ran to you, engulfing you in a big, tight hug. “Of course you did!” he shouted. “Oh, god [y/n], of course you did! Here…” he released you so he could rush to unlock the door.

“And I didn’t just pass, babe. I passed with flying fucking colors!” You let yourself into his apartment, still rambling while he dragged his things inside. He stood in awe as you paced around the living room, throwing your hands in the air. “Do you know what this means? I could be a real lawyer any day now!”

You looked at him, huffing and puffing with this toothless, wide smile that sat in your cheekbones. So happy and pretty that he forgot how to talk. “T-These are for you,” he stuttered, walking over to you with a bright bouquet of flowers.

Your eyes darted to the flowers, but only for a moment and then back to Spencer, and he was looking at you with so much love that you felt it in the pit of your stomach. You held eye contact with him as you took hold of the flowers, your fingers overlapping for a split second. And in one swift motion, you pulled him in by the back of his neck and dropped the flowers on the couch. It stunned him, sure, but it was instinct for him to grab onto your hips and kiss you. That is, after all, exactly what you wanted him to do.

You stood of the tip of your toes, took hold of his face and balled your fist in his hair. He grunted against your lips, held onto you tight as you dragged him into his bedroom.

“Okay, okay, okay, just-“ he stuttered as you tore off his shirt. His head got caught, the two of you burst into laughter, and you gave him a kiss as soon as the shirt hit the floor. You swiped his books off of his bed and laid yourself down, pulling him on top of you. When your pants got suffocating, you flipped him over so you could take them off. Your boobs hung in his face as you grabbed a condom from the nightstand and he ran his hands all over your body. Even when he could hardly breathe because you were rolling the condom onto him, he caressed your thighs and his nails rolled on your skin.

You giggled, going, “Stop, that tickles.”

He said, “Sorry,” and tickled you again, laughing as your body squirmed around and you chuckled into a kiss with him.

You were usually a lot softer with him. No rush. But the adrenaline in your body had you bouncing on his cock so quickly that you wondered if the whole bed might cave in. You kept looking at Spencer to make sure he was enjoying himself he was enjoying himself. His head was hanging off the bed, hanging loose from his neck and his mouth was wide open, releasing some of the loudest moans you’ve ever heard from him. When he realized he was getting close, he would grab your hips real tight, you’d stop and after a few breaths, he’d let you go. He’d let you get right back to it.

Afterwards, you collapsed beside him and tucked yourself in the crook of his arm, your hand on his heaving chest. You kissed him softly and he moaned, “Mm…” rubbing your back. “I love when you get a good grade.”

You cackled and threw your head back, tracing his bottom lip with your fingertip, “I love when you’re home.”

“Oh!” he suddenly shouted. “Speaking of, we have dinner reservations on our anniversary at seven. I’ll probably get called out before then but I will be back in time. I promise.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then I’m a bad boy. A very bad boy,” he grinned, leaning into you as you laughed.

You held his face, gave him a kiss and nodded, “It’s a date.”

And he did eventually get called out again just over a week before your reservation. You have a very vivid memory of kissing him goodbye the day he left. He was himself. He was happy, and towards the end of the week, he called overly cocky saying that this case would be wrapped up soon. That he’d be home with a night to spare.

He lied.

People know you here. When you speak with the distric attorney on Spencer’s case, he knows you. He knows Spencer. And that should make it easy to negotiate here, but it unfortunately makes it that much harder. Luckily, you’re as stubborn as you are determined and with a bit of sparkle, you can get Spencer down to two to five years in federal prison.

That is, until new evidence arises. In that moment, all the oxygen and arguing and fight you’ve given goes out the window. Emily trails up beside you when you return, saying, “I just got the news. What now?”

“Now,” you sigh. “We tell Spencer.”

And as soon as you walk into the room, he is rising to his feet, staring at you. His eyes scan over your features and he goes, “That’s not a good face. What happened?”

“I…” you start. “Was able to talk Martinez down to involuntary manslaughter.”

“Manny Martinez?” he interrupts you.

“Yes,” you enunciate. “And he offered two to five years.”

Emily glances at Spencer, and asks you, “A deal? Well, that could mean they know they have a weak case?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “But they could also just be in a rush to close this with minimal publicity.”

Looking to Spencer, you owe him the truth, “But they found the murder weapon in the desert. About an hour ago. The blood and prints are yours.”

The words knock the air out of him like a strong punch to the chest. You can see his eyes zone out, stuck on the floor as he sits himself down and tries to breathe. Emily is spinning gears in her head but you cannot stop watching him.

“Okay, so, where do we go from here?” she asks you.

“Well, the two to five quickly came off the table. Now, it’s five to ten at minimum.” Still, you watch Spencer. He can’t stand to look at you.

“And this is the only way he can avoid trial?”

You purse your lips and nod, shrugging, “Plead guilty to involuntary manslaughter, write a statement to the bureau. That’d be the end of it. Any other course of action will require presenting evidence to a jury.”

When Spencer finally decides to lift his head and speak, he looks you dead in the eye and asks, “Do you think I should take it?”

Your face visibly softens and you shrug, “Beats twenty-five to life. Which they will sentence if you’re found guilty, and with this evidence…it’s likely…”

He looks at Emily and when he cannot take the look of pity in her eyes for one more second, he asks you, specifically, “May I speak to you alone, [y/n]?”

You glance at Emily and nod, “Sure.”

The door closes and Spencer, comfortable enough to let his guard down, suddenly stands from the chair, hiding his face in his hands. He paces around the small room and pulls at the root of his hair. It’s very unlike him but in this moment, he says, “Fuck.”

“Yes,” is all you can add. “What do you want to do here, Spencer?”

“I-I-I don’t know. You’re my lawyer, can’t you just tell me what I should do? Tell me what to do.”

“I can’t do that. I’m not the one facing prison here. You have two options, okay? If you want to take your chances in court, I will be there. I will bring every weapon in my arsenal to defend you, but I can’t guarantee that the outcome will be better than five to ten.”

He shakes his head, “The team will crack the case. They will. They’ll catch Scratch and they’ll clear my name.”

“Oh, my…when?” you raise your voice. You don’t mean to. “This month? This year? This decade? Who knows? W-who knows how long you could be locked up before they catch a break?”

He sniffles, one single tear falling down his cheek as his head falls in defeat, “What…what do I do, [y/n]?” he cries. “Just tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

And against ever fiber of your being, you instinctively cross the room and engulf him in a hug. He sobs into your neck and holds your waist in tight in his arms, breaks down when you run your hand through his hair.

He’s hurting but this helps. This helps a lot.

“Hey!” you answered Spencer’s phone with a joyous greeting. “Hi, Diana. Hi! It’s [y/n], how are you?”

And while she was beyond excited to talk to you, she rambled about her son. How he hadn’t called her in close to a week. How she missed the sound of his voice. “It just isn’t like him,” she said. “It just isn’t like Spencer. He calls me. He calls me everyday. Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you stood over him in bed. “Yeah, he’s okay. He’s, uh, he’s…”

He waved you off, silently ordering you to hang up and leave him alone. He rolled over onto his side and hid his face under the blankets. He wanted to make sure he was as avoidant as possible.

“He’s just…tired. But I know he…he’d love to speak with you…”

He did not move. And he had not moved since returning home from Tobias Hankel. He just hadn’t. You weren’t sure if he ever would. But as you continued to talk on the phone, the sound of your voice going, “Yeah, yeah,” grating his nerves, he hopped out of bed and went straight for the bathroom. The door slammed, it locked and you just hoped Diana didn’t hear it.

“Yeah,” you told her. “Yeah, he’s busy right now. Y’know, case paperwork and such. I can have him call you back?”

Then there’s a thud. Loud. It shakes the floor of the entire apartment and your breath catches in your throat.

“Yes, of course. I will have him call you,” you stared at the bathroom door. “I promise. Okay. Alright, bye.”

You rushed to the bathroom, immediately trying to open the door but it was locked. You wiggled the knob, you pounded on it, calling, “Spencer? Spencer?”

You found the key on top of the sill, with your hands trembling as you shoved it into the lock. When the door swung open, it stopped against something. Something heavy, something big. So you pushed and shoved enough that you could poke your head in and when you did, you screamed. You shrieked at the top of your lungs. The thing blocking the door, the thing laid out on the floor.

It was Spencer.

Spencer is due to appear in court this morning. You’re going to vomit.

You arrive promptly with thirty minutes to spare and you spend that time trying to find your client. Though you do not see his face, you notice him standing at the phone, dressed to impress in a sharp suit. His hand bandaged in the least disgusting way possible.

“Mom,” he says into the reciever. “I want you know that I’m safe and I have a great lawyer.”

You cross your arms over your chest, stand firm behind him and proudly eavesdrop.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it’s actually, um…[y/n]. Yeah, no. No, we’re not back together, she just…she’s a great lawyer. The best.”

And he goes looking for you, at the mention of your name, he starts scanning the room, like he can feel you somewhere. Somewhere. He turns around to find you leaning against the wall. He smiles. He can’t help it. Neither can you. You throw up a small wave and he waves back.

He speaks into the phone, telling Diana, “She says hi.”

The judge comes into the courtroom and almost immediately, she looks ready to leave. You weren’t nervous before, you don’t think Spencer was all that much either. But now, shit is getting real. Shit is getting very real.

“Miss [y/l/n],” she says to you. “Your client is a federal agent?”

You rise to your feet, nodding, “That’s correct, your honor.” You both notice Spencer still sitting and you whisper through your teeth, “Stand the hell up,” and he stands the hell up.

“Some very serious offenses brought against you today,” she tells him.

“Yes, your honor,” he nods.

“Miss [y/l/n], does your client wish to enter a plea at this time?”

You nod, “He does.”

“And how do you plead, Agent Reid?”

Spencer looks her in the eye and proclaims, “Not guilty.” You hope nobody sees you roll your eyes.

“Mhm,” the judge nods. “And as to bail?”

“The people oppose bail and request remand, your honor,” the district attorney responds, now standing.

“Remand?” you repeat. “Your honor, my client does not present a flight risk.”

“He’ll be staying with you, I suppose?” he fires back and you can’t help but cut your eyes at him.

“Good one, Manny.”

“Your honor,” he continues. “The defendant fled the scene in Mexico…”

“Those were extenuating circumstances,” you interrupt. “He was drugged against his will.”

“And failed to inform the FBI of his international travel, effectively breaking protocol.”

“With the intent to return home and care for his mother, who struggles with schizophrenia and alzheimer’s and lives with him full time. He is her sole caretaker, in addition to his career as a highly decorated member of the BAU.”

“And as a member of the BAU, he has connections all over the world that could prove highly useful if he chose to flee.”

“Agent Reid is more than willing to surrend both his professional and personal passports if it pleases the court.”

“Again, he has the connections to both recieve a counterfeit passport and evade arrest.”

“Your honor, all Agent Reid wants to do is stay here and clear his good name.”

“He should’ve thought about his good name before sneaking across the border.”

You glare at Martinez and look back to the judge, “I can provide sincere and respected character witness to the court today. All highly decorated members of FBI, willing to speak on Agent Reid’s behalf.”

“Miss [y/l/n], I am not particularly inclined to hear character witnesses at the moment,” the judge tells you.

“Then we can abide by a curfew, court ordered restrictions…”

“Too little, too late for that, Miss [y/l/n],” she silences you. “If past behavior is the best indicator of future behavior, and I do believe that it is…then your client does present a flight risk…” and with one, dramatic pauses, she says, “Bail is denied. The defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

The gavel lands and that’s it.

Spencer is put in handcuffs, in front of his entire team, in front of his family. In front of you. And all he can do is look at you. Eyes wide and terrified, looking at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry, I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

He believes you. He has to believe you.

Standing there in shame, the feeling in your gut quickly turns to anger and you march out of the courtroom, pass the team and into the hallway. You see the district attorney walking towards his office and chase him down.

“A flight risk?” you catch his attention and he turns around. “Really, Manny?”

He shrugs, “Judge Frost agreed.”

“Yeah, judges tend to do that when things are taken out of context.”

“Hey, the facts were clear as day. Don’t be mad at me because your boyfriend might go to prison, okay? That’s on him.” And with that, he walks away. You want to throw something at the back of his head.

You want to burn the whole building down.

Instead, you run. You run off to an empty corridor, where you are well aware no one will find you. You pace up and down the floor, your chest heaving, your hands on your hips.

“[y/n]?” Emily calls from behind you. When you cannot get out of your own head, she repeats, “[y/n]?”

“Why did you call me?” You shout as you turn to her. “Why did you bring me into this? Why? Why?” you sob and you put your face in your hands, sliding down the wall in a dramatic breakdown.

Emily immediately rushes to you, bending down to hold you in her arms. “You did everything that you could,” she tells you. “You did your best.”

“I’m always doing my best!” you whine. “I’m always, always doing my best for him and it’s not enough! It’s never enough!”

There’s too much for Emily to unpack there, so she shuts her mouth and she holds you.

The day that you graduated law school, Spencer stayed by your side the entire time. And that was good. That was good because you could be sure that he wasn’t shooting up and you could relax. He looked good that day. Not perfect. Not clean. But good. He dressed up, he could walk in a straight line and he was so, unbelievably proud of you.

He handed you flowers the moment the commencement was over. He took all the pictures so you could have the memories forever. He hung on your arm like a trophy boyfriend because, that day, he was a trophy boyfriend and he could not have been happier.

“Surprise!” was shouted at you as soon as you stepped into your apartment. Adorned with balloons and family and friends, you were overwhelmed and nearly dropped your degree. You turned to Spencer and he dropped his shoulders bashfully, too shy to outright accept all the credit. And still, you took him in a firey kiss, you gave him all the credit.

As you walked around, having something to eat, thanking everyone for coming, talking about your plans for the future, Spencer came up to you and said, “I’m going to grab the cake, okay, honey? I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay, baby, thank you,” you smiled and gave him a kiss.

He didn’t come back for an hour.

And when he did come back, he overcompensated by putting the cake down in front of you and going, “Sorry! Sorry about that. Traffic was crazy,” and placing a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek.

Right then, you knew.

He was bouncing off the walls, extroverted, enthusiastic, eating cake that other people had cut into and not able to get enough of it. Grabbing onto your waist and kissing your neck in front of a crowd, dozing off when he actually sat, flicking himself in the neck to keep himself awake.

And you knew.

By the end of the night, when everyone had cleared out and Spencer was missing, you stepped around the quiet apartment and found him passed out in your bed. You put two fingers on his neck, made sure he was alive, and you slept on the couch.

You woke up early even though he slept like a rock until closer to noon. You sat on the couch until he decided to get out of bed and come looking for you.

“Hey,” he smiled, his voice hoarse. “Hey, what are you doing out here?”

You could hardly stand to look at him. You hands were bound in front of your lips, your eyes focused on the coffee table. It wasn’t until that second that he looked down and noticed the collection on the table. Needles. A little vial.

“How…” you cleared your throat. “How long have you been hiding this in my apartment?”

“I…” he spit out. “I…that’s old. It’s old. I forgot it was even here.”

You choked out a gust of air and couldn’t help but laugh, “You are so full of shit.”

“[y/n]…”

“No!” you shouted, rising to your feet. “Tell me what’s so fucking good about this shit that you needed to shoot up during my graduation party?”

“I…I didn’t…I was just excited. I was excited for you.”

“No, you were fucking loaded.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Stop.”

“I wasn’t.”

“No, stop! Stop treating me like I’m fucking stupid! I mean, fuck, Spencer! After all the therapy and meetings and outpatient rehabs, you do this? Really?”

“I didn’t.”

“And what’s worse is that you lie. You lie about everything. You’re lying right and you don’t care!”

“[y/n]…”

“You don’t care. You don’t care. I’m the one who shot narcan up your fucking nose so you wouldn’t OD on my bathroom floor. I’m the one who couldn’t have one fucking night to myself and you, dont, care!”

You let out a quick huff and he simmered in the silence of your anger.

“I…I can’t do this anymore…” you said softly.

He stared at you, shaking in his own skin, “W-what? You can’t do what?”

You released a slow sigh, “I can’t…be with a drug addict.”

“I…am not…”

“You are. You are, Spencer, and you need help. You need more than I can give you.” And before he can retaliate, you set a box of his things on the table. Some books, some clothes with blood on the sleeves, some records.

He started to cry. You knew these were real tears because when he merely wanted to get his way, they would start flowing instantly. Here, they came on slow, rolling down his pale face. “[y/n]…”

“No.” You said sternly, avoiding eye contact. “You need to leave. Leave.”

“B-b-but I-I’m better,” he tried to touch you and you flinched. “I-I can get better. I can do that.”

“Not here. Not with me. Please leave.”

“B-but…” he cried. “But I don’t wanna leave. I wanna be with you. I need to be with you. Please. P-please, [y/n].”

You shook your head, quickly wiped away your tears. “I don’t want you here. Please leave.” You held the door open for him and put his box on the porch. “Please.”

“[y/n], please don’t do this,” he tried to shut the door but you held your own. “Please, please, I’ll go to a meeting right now. You can come with me. I’ll get better. I can get better.”

“Spencer…please. Go.”

“No.”

“Please,” you begged. “Leave.”

“No. No, I’m not leaving you.”

And so, because you had to, you absolutely had to, you pushed him out. He fought, never to hurt you, but he dug his feet in the ground and tried to push your hands away. “N-no, [y/n], please. Please. Please don’t do this.”

Spencer was never that strong before the dilaudid. But when he was on it, he was weak. He was slow and even with all his strength, he could not stop you from throwing him out and slamming the door in his face. You locked it quickly, pressed your palms to the wood to keep it closed up tight as he knocked lightly.

You could hear him sobbing, “[y/n]…please…[y/n]…” and his voice cracked. You heard him slide down the door and sniffling, “[y/n]…”

There was a moment where you thought to open the door. To take it all back. To change your mind. Tears were running into your mouth and you ground your teeth together to stifle your cries. Instead, you stood up straight, you took a deep breath. You went into your room, closed the door and turned the TV up loud.

Spencer still lives in his same apartment. So as you go up the stairs, hundreds of memories come flooding back to you at a hundred miles per minute. It makes you so dizzy that you nearly trip, fall down the stairs. Run.

But you make it to his door and knock, greeted by a younger woman who gives you a bright smile, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you wave to her. “Cassie?”

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m [y/n]. I’m-I’m a friend of Spencer’s. Is Diana here?”

“She is.”

“Is she up for a visitor?”

You let yourself in, stepping in to find that the apartment has not changed much. Same couch, same chairs, same coffee pot in the kitchen. Diana is sat near the window reading a book, picking at her nails anxiously. When she looks up and sees you, she stops and her entire face lights up like you’ve come back from the dead.

“[y/n], hi!” she greets you. She stands from her chair and rushes towards you with open arms. You let her hug you tight, her hand in your hair, your head on her shoulder and you want to cry. “Hi, honey, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m okay…” you shrug. “Can we talk?”

Her eyes go wide. Scared. “This is about Spencer. About that awful mess he’s in.”

“Yes,” you nod.

“Well, please, come, sit. Do you want some tea? Cassie makes a great cup.”

“Sure. Yes, please,” you smile as you sit across from her.

“Y’know, when I heard what happened to Spencer. I-I couldn’t believe it…my baby boy, in a jail cell,” she shakes her head. “But then he tells me that you were his lawyer and I could,” she exhales. “Breathe. You, such a smart and fierce young woman. There’s no one I’d trust more.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek and you shake your head, breaking eye contact with her.

“Oh. Oh, no, no, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry…” you whimper. You wipe your face and huff, “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“For what? For what, honey?” she takes hold of your hands.

“I-I couldn’t…I didn’t…” you sob. “I…Spencer pleaded not guilty, but the judge ruled him a flight risk. S-so, he’s…in federal prison. Pending trial.”

You can see the shock spread across her face and it makes you sick to your fucking stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried.”

“Hey, you don’t apologize,” she squeezes your hands. Tight, tight, tight, tight. “You don’t apologize, you hear me? I know you did everything in your power. And if you couldn’t do it, then no one else could.”

You choke out another sob and she rubs your arm, cooing “Oh…oh…” and when Cassie sets a mug in front of you, Diana orders, “Here. Here, [y/n], please, have some tea. Calm down, sweetie.”

While you take sip, hiccuping against the glass, she changes the subject entirely. The rest of the visit spirals into a nice chat, mainly about you. What you’re up to these days. And as you fill her in, her eyes light up in pride, in almost disbelief. The last thing she says to you is, “Oh, I do wish you and Spencer could’ve worked things out. You are just…so special, [y/n]. Such a special, gifted girl. You made him so happy.”

She hugs you before you leave and you stroll beside Cassie to the front door. “Um…” you whisper to Cassie. “Is she normally this lucid?”

She purses her lips, “There are good days. There are bad ones.”

You nod.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen her recognize anyone, though.”

For an extended amount of time after your first breakup, you thought Spencer was dead.

After you kicked him out of your apartment, there was radio silence. Scary radio silence. And you had visions in your head of him laid out with a needle in his arm and too much dilaudid in his veins and vomit in his mouth. Or, perhaps, he ran in front of a bullet in the field and no one thought anything of it. For months, you were so sure he was dead.

When you saw him on the news a year later, only then, you could breathe. You visibly and loudly sighed in relief just seeing his face, hearing his voice. More than grateful he was alive, you were grateful to see him healthy. Very clearly clean. Weight back in his face, light back in his eyes. You had almost forgotten what it looked like on him. It wasn’t until then that you knew you’d made the right decision.

You wouldn’t see him again for another two years. Save for a few local newpapers articles, the radio silence continued. You had moved to a larger apartment, close to the courthouse where you were still clawing your way to the top. Somehow, someway, Spencer found this new apartment. It was a conscious decision to do so.

He knocked on your door and you, not expecting company, catiously checked the peephole. You dropped from your tippy toes, sucked in a breath and opened the door. “Spencer? What…what are you doing here?”

“I’m…I’m sorry to drop by like this…” he stuttered, sucking back tears. “I am. I’m sorry. I…Emily…died.”

Your eyes went wide and you visibly stepped back. “What?”

“Y-yeah, she, um, she was murdered. Bled out in the ambulance and I…” he descended into a fit of cries and you just stood in the doorway, watching him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-I don’t mean to be a stalker. I don’t mean to barge in on you. I-I-I-I was just scared of what I might do if I was alone and n-no one else understands why I’m so scared to be alone and-and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You stood there in shock for a long time. The only thing that cut the tension was a sound from the TV, a strange sound that caught Spencer off guard. He peeked inside your apartment, sniffling, “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh…um, I’m playing Wii Sports?” you told him, holding up the remote dangling from your wrist. “…I have two remotes if-if you wanna play. It always makes me feel better.”

He tilted his head at you, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Oh, c’mon!” you shouted in front of the TV, swinging your remote through the air. “Put your back into it!”

“I am!” Spencer yelled, taking another swing that just barely hit the digital tennis ball.

“No, you’re not!” you swung and scored a point, Spencer feeling especially defeated by the cheer of the crowd. “You’re losing, is what you’re doing.”

“I give up,” he takes off his remote. “This game is rigged.”

“Is it?” you smirk. “Or are you just a sore loser? Not used to it?”

“Uh, yeah. Duh.”

You laughed and it poured a blanket of warmth over him that he had not felt in a long time. “You hungry?” you asked him.

“Starving.”

So you ordered a pizza and you got so caught up in speaking with him that you barely heard the knock on the door. When you set a slice down in front of him, he instantly picked it up and shoves it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He noticed you watching him and chuckled, wiping his mouth, “What?”

“Nothing…”you smiled. “Nothing, it’s just you’re…eating so good, you…you look good.”

He smiled at you. Not a big smile, not a proud smile, but a soft smile. A thank-you-I-did-it-for-you smile. “Thank you. I feel good.”

“Good,” you nodded. “That’s good.”

And the two of you ate in silence with the TV on to keep the peace. By the end of the night, his head was resting in your lap and his knees were tucked against his chest. He rubbed his thumb on your knee lightly and said, “I can go. If you want me to, I can go.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, your fingertip tracing his ear, your hand running through his hair, “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

He breathed you in one last time and sat himself up. He looked at you and you looked at him and if he stared at you any longer, it would’ve torn him apart. Instead, he hopped up from the couch and escorted himself to the door, you following close behind him.

“Thank you,” he told you. “For letting me stay. For feeding me. For taking care of me.”

“For kicking your ass at Wii Sports?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you nodded.

“Okay,” he huffed. “So…”

“So…” you shrugged.

He reached out to give you a hug and before you knew what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him. That is, after all, exactly what he wanted you to do.

His arms locked around your waist and you moaned softly under your breath, sticking your tongue down his throat, drowning in the familiar taste of him. He pushed his body into yours, boldly nudging you towards the couch until you fell back and he could fall on top of you. Right where he was meant to be.

You’re uncomfortable in the prison. Milburn isn’t exactly known for it’s favorable accommodations and the last thing you want to do is appear prissy, but fuck, it’s gross. It’s crowded. It smells. You think: this must be killing Spencer.

He sits down across from you and he looks tired. Tired, but relieved to see you.

“Oof,” you exclaim. “You’re so lucky you look good in blue or else this would be really shitty for you.”

He snickers, shakes his head, “That was actually my exact thought.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “JJ says you’ve been by to see my mom?”

“I have. She’s doing okay, she seemed okay. We spoke for a long time. It was good to see her.”

“I bet she was excited to see you.”

“She was, it was sweet. I…I don’t wanna sound insensitive here, but, if she has an alzheimer’s diagnosis why does the memory of us breaking up just… linger?”

He wants to cackle but he stifles it, “Tell me about it. Every so often, I get an earful about how I should’ve done more to keep you around.”

“Oh. You…you didn’t tell her that I��”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, I didn’t.”

And just like that, a moment that was lighthearted and comfortable becomes unbearable. You clear your throat, “Well, I didn’t just come by to visit, I have news. It’s not great.”

“Okay, what is it?”

You sigh, “Your trial is postponed. I can’t say how long, but I will be the first to know and you’ll be the second.”

“Postponed?” he mimicked. “W-why? Why?”

You shrug, “They didn’t say. But it could be anything, I mean, higher profile cases, judge schedules, anything.”

He ducks his head down, breathing hard through his nose to prevent himself from crying.

“Hey…” you coo. “Hey, I’m going to figure this out. Don’t worry.”

“I know,” he nods. He looks up at you, “I know you’re trying. Thank you for trying.”

You nod, break a toothless smile, “Always.”

When Spencer wasn’t on drugs, you two managed to stay together for a whole four years. This was twice as long as you made it the first time around and not once did you worry that he had relapsed. You spent a lot of time worried that he might. You spent a lot of time keeping an extra close eye on him, watching for any of the signs, overly cautious. For a reason.

And Spencer was patient with this. He worked so hard to regain your trust because he knew how badly he had fucked up before. How different he’d become, how much he’d hurt you. He could not bear to ever put you through that again. And he never did. He was consistent, he was loving and he was sober.

On your third anniversary, he flew back into town late but he came straight to you. You had not officially moved in with him, but you had a drawer and a toothbrush and you could walk to work from his apartment. He woke you up from your peaceful slumber in his bed just to present you with your gift.

“C’mon, c’mon, I’ve been waiting so long to give it to you,” he cut the lamp on and you groaned, rolling onto your stomach. “Noooo, noooo, c’mon, my love. Look.”

You rolled back over and he was holding up a gold charm bracelet that immediately caught your eye. It woke you up entirely.

“I know you’re not a big jewelry girl,” he whispered, placing the bracelet on your wrist. “But this, uh, has a little charm of your birthstone and one with your birth flower. And, I don’t know, I thought it’d be nice to have on while you’re arguing in court, y’know? Wave it around a bit. Persuade the judge and jury.”

He fixed the clasp and you admired the gold against your skin, tracing it with your finger softly. You grinned, your eyes flickering up to him. “Wave it around…” you teased. “Like this?” and you motioned for him to come closer with your finger. The charms rang lightly and Spencer smirked at you.

“See, it’s just so compulsive, I can’t help but obey you,” he crawled on top of you, his voice mixing in with your laughter. “You’ll never lose a case again.”

And ironically, you went an absurd amount of time without losing a case after that. The bracelet was, in every sense of the word, your good luck charm. Your wrist came to feel naked without it and the ring of the metal gave you a special kind of confidence that couldn’t be replaced or replicated.

The day that Spencer got shot and nearly died, you were due to argue what would’ve been your tenth successful case in a row. You were on such a roll. A streak that no one around you had seen before and they were all eager to see how it progressed.

But as you approached the courtroom doors, your phone buzzed in your hand and you answered without much thought. You kept your brisk pace, speaking with a normalcy that JJ tried her best to match. Your heels were fast, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, until the information ran through your ears and into your brain and then there was click-clack, click-clack, click…and you stood in the middle of the hallway. Stuck.

Your bottom lip trembled, at the thought of Spencer in critical condition. At the thought of him dying. Dying, dead, without you. You looked back at the courtroom and zoned back into JJ’s voice. You took one step towards the door, stopped and turned around.

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

Contrary to the belief of the BAU, Spencer is not your only client. You have to remind yourself of this as well. Despite a pile of work that you slowly chip away at, you find yourself running back to the details of Spencer’s file. Over and over, as if something new will stand out. It’s happened to you before. You think, it could happen again. It has to happen again. It doesn’t seem like it will.

“Hey, [y/n]?” you coworker calls, knocking on your office door.

“Hey!” you pip.

“Wanna grab lunch? My treat.”

“Lunch? It’s already lunch?” you check the clock and gasp, “Holy shit.”

She laughs, “You work too hard. What do ya’ say?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I, uh, thought you had to meet a client at Milburn this afternoon, though? The armed robbery guy.”

“Ah, no. Whole prison’s on lockdown. Something about a bad batch of heroin or meth or whatever they pass around in there, I don’t know. Attorneys are still allowed in but I’m not walking into that. I mean, can you imagine?”

It all pours out of her like a joke. Like a comedy of epic proportions that you are meant to laugh along with. But you can’t. You think about Spencer and you just can’t.

“[y/n]?” she calls, pulling you back into reality. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” you overcompensate. “Yes. Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

You grab your purse and swing it over your shoulder, following her out of your office and reminding yourself to breathe.

“You’re sure?” you questioned the doctor. “You’re positive?”

He released a hearty laugh and nodded, “Yes. He is fully recovered. No swelling, no tenderness, he’s cleared to work and resume any physical activity.”

“Any physical activity?” Spencer asked. You blushed and put your hand to your cheek.

“Yes, that’s right,” the doctor confirmed. “I must say, Spencer, this is quite impressive progress with such a severe injury.”

“I couldn’t have done it all without [y/n],” Spencer beamed, holding onto your hand. “She’s been amazing. She oversaw all my treatment and physical therapy. Slapped me aside my head when I was stubborn. It’s all thanks to her.”

You smiled, bashful and sweet, though you felt a weird, painful knot in your stomach. “Well, that’s quite a spectacular lady you’ve got there.”

“I think so, too,” Spencer grinned and kissed your cheek.

Immediately after Spencer was shot, followed by a long hospital stay, months of physical therapy and doctor’s visits, you lost your streak. You lost your glimmer. You lost that aura of shock and awe that you once so proudly carried. Though you kept it hidden from Spencer, you were one, giant ball of anxiety. All the time. It wrecked your brain, scrambled into a big pile of goo until you were having panic attacks in the courthouse bathroom.

Days later, you finally brought home a winning case. The adrenaline of a successful verdict rushed through your veins and you raced up the stairs to tell Spencer. You unlocked the door to his apartment and burst inside, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him. He had cleaned, cooked and set up the dining room table with a meal for two.

“Hi, baby!” he exclaimed. “How was your closing statement?”

“Uhh, good. The judge ruled in our favor…” you spoke slowly, setting your things down.

“Really?” he smiled. “Of course! Of course they did. Baby, I’m so proud of you,” he held your face in his hands and gave you a kiss.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, well,” he lead you into the dining room. “I made us a roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. It should be good, I followed the recipe exactly. And, uh, some sparkling cider and I got you some lilies from the florist down the street and-and I even went to that store to get you a bath bomb even though all the smells give me a headache.” He was quite proud of himself.

“You went to Lush? No way.”

“Way! I thought we could take a bath together. Or you can take one by yourself, if you want. I got some candles, too.”

“Spencer, this is so sweet. What the fuck?” you wrapped your arms around him and the thought pinged in your head, “Ohhh. Oh, you wanna have sex with me.”

His face immediately turned bright red, “W-what? What? Sex? No. Ew…gross…”

You cackled and put your hands on his waist, “You got the go ahead from your doctor and it’s been driving you crazy. Admit it.”

“It has not been driving me crazy. I-I…have…been thinking about it quite a bit. But that’s not why I did this. I just wanted to thank you. Wanted to do something for you.”

“Mhm, keep talking,” you nuzzled your nose into his. “You’re almost there.”

He giggled and took hold of your hands, “C’mon, c’monnnn, I worked really hard on this dinner. Can you sit down and eat with me and then, maybe, after…”

You kissed the tip of his nose and took a seat at the table, “Definitely after,” you smirked at him.

He grinned and sat right next to you. And he watched you the entire time that you tried your food. It was delicious, you made sure to tell him that. You made sure to praise him, tell him that you loved him. He was already overrun with joy, but when you suggested a nice bath, he all but jumped out of his seat.

“The dishes!” you laughed.

He scurried back to the table, picked up your plates and dropped them in the sink. As he ran to the bathroom, he grabbed onto your wrist and dragged you along. He turned the water on, let it heat to just the right temperature and left it running. You undressed each other from head to toe and despite the sensuality of it all, you couldn’t stop giggling.

Sat in the tub, he cradled your back against his chest and he said, “Y’know…this bath bomb actually doesn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would.”

You laughed, “It smells really good, right?”

“Yeah! And the colors are cool.”

“I told you!”

Spencer got out of the bath first and he held out a towel for you to wrap yourself in. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you looked at yourselves in the mirror. He caressed your hair, whispering, “You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled, “Thank you. So are you.”

He kissed your shoulder, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, “I love you.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “You’re alright, I guess.”

Your laughter overlapped with one another’s and you quickly corrected yourself, “I love you, honey,” with a kiss to his temple.

He turned his head and looked at you, his lips pressed against your ear, “Hey.”

You turned to him, “Hey.”

“We should get married.”

Your jaw dropped and you took a step back, “Are…are you just saying that because I’m naked and wet?”

He chuckled, “No,” he pulled you close, chest to chest, “No, no. I mean it. I mean, I don’t have a ring and I’m in no condition to get down on one knee but you deserve that, you deserve everything and I want to give that to you. I love you. So much. And I never, ever want to experience life without you again. I want you to be my wife, I want to be your husband. I want that. Don’t you want that?”

You let out a dry laugh, furrowing your eyebrows at him. You take his face in your hands, gripping tight on boths sides of his jaw and smush your lips into his. You undo the towel from around your chest and it falls to the floor, leaving every inch of your body open to Spencer’s touch.

“Mm…” he moans sharply when you break the kiss, giggling when you drag him to his bedroom by the hem of his towel.

The two of you landed on the bed with a thud, Spencer on top, tangling his body in yours, kissing your neck. Kissing your chest. Making his way to the apex of your thighs where he spread your legs and buried his face in between them.

Your breath caught in your throat but you released it all with a guttural moan, your arms limp around your head. The thing about Spencer, and that beautiful, talented mouth of his, is how gentle he was. His tongue was never rough, never hard flushed against you, but light and soft, hitting all the spots that made your body twitch. He could make you come so easily. And if you’d let him, he’d do it again and again and again.

But you took hold of his shoulders, you brought his face to yours and tangled your hands in his soaking wet hair and that is how you stayed the entire time that he fucked you. Close to him, bonded to him, staring into his eyes. You legs wrapped tight around his waist. Your body weakened underneath, became consumed by him and you swear, you have never come so hard in your life.

After his own orgasm, Spencer’s eyes focused in on you and you were crying. Not sobbing, just silent tears.

“Oh god, oh my god, [y/n]? What happened?” he panicked. “Are you okay? Did I-did I hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, no. I…that was…it was just very good for me.”

“Oh…” he sighed. “Oh,” he gave you a kiss. “For me, too.”

He laid at your side and held you in his arms, rubbing your back, squeezing you tight.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, Spencer.”

You managed to fall asleep in his arms, but not for very long. All through the night, you shuddered awake like your skeleton was trying to crawl out of your skin. When your eyes popped open as the sun was starting to rise, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You emptied your drawer. You packed all your clothes. You put your toothbrush in a ziplock. And for the rest of the morning, you sat at the dining room table with a pen and paper. Every thought that rushed through your head sounded trite. Cliche. Dumb. So you kept it short and sweet and wrote:

I love you. I LOVE YOU. But I can’t. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.

Aside from the shitty note, it was the perfect goodbye.

Spencer doesn’t want to see you right now. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now but especially not you. When the guard notifies him of his lawyers arrival, he’s confused. A bit irritated. But he has no choice but to let them haul him off.

They let him into the meeting room, where at first, you are sitting but when you see him, you stand to your feet. Your eyes scan all over his beaten and bruised face and you order the guards, “Cuffs. Off. Please.” And they’re off Spencer’s wrists just like that.

The guards leave the room and you are still staring at him. Now you are touching his face. Now you are whimpering, “What…what happened?”

You can see him soften a little bit, only a little bit, and then he is shrugging your hand off of him. He’s never done that before and it kind of hurts.

“You shouldn’t be here, [y/n].”

“What happened? Who did this to you?”

“[y/n.]…” he’s stern, but he quickly changes his tone. “You need to go. Please. I don’t feel like talking right now.”

You huff, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

He shakes his head, “I’m just not in the mood to talk. I don’t think anyone needs to be around me right now.”

“Well, too bad. I’m here, you look like someone took a walk on your face, and I want you to talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“What are you getting into in here? Huh?” you scold him, waving your hands around. “Didn’t everyone tell you to shut up and lay low? You didn’t listen, did you?”

Your charm bracelet catches his eye and he cannot stop tracking it, “…You don’t know anything anout anything.”

“I think-“

“No, you know what I think?” he snaps. “I think you ended our relationship in a fourteen word note and now you’re here for what? For what, [y/n]?”

“Okay, lower your voice.”

“Seriously? Your obligation is done. You fought the good fight. Let me rot. It what you would’ve done anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you. Do you know why I left you a note, Spencer? It’s because I really sucked at breaking up with you. You have one little meltdown and suddenly, it’s me. Suddenly, I’m the answer to all your problems. Well, I’m not. I never was. I’m just one of the many melodramatic problems that you have and I needed to be released before it just happened over and over and over again.”

“Melodrama- okay…” he turns around and bangs on the door, signaling the guards to get him the hell out of here.

“Spencer!”

“We’re done.”

“Will you just- talk to me,” you beg.

The door swings open and you instantly clamp up, attempting to appear calm and collected. You watch Spencer leave the room and you want to scream. You want to shout at him from the top of your lungs but you don’t. You think, if I can just get outside. If I can just cross the parking lot. If I just get to my car, I can scream.

You never make it.

By the time Diana is able to visit Spencer, by the time Spencer gets in contact with Emily, rambling and screaming into the phone like he’s just witnessed a murder, nearly a full night has passed. Emily meets Spencer in the moonlit prison and it takes her an entire minute to get him calm enough to talk, to explain thoroughly. The memories of Mexico that come flooding back, the woman who drugged him.

“Has anyone checked on my mom?” he shouts. “Can someone please check on my mom?”

“Spencer,” Emily calls to him. “We did.”

“And?”

“And, she’s fine. Apparently, Cassie was unable to come in and they sent another nurse in her place. But, um…”

Spencer leans forward in his seat, “What? What?”

“Cassie said this was delivered to your apartment,” she digs through her bag. “No name, no address. Just a knock at the door.”

And she holds up your gold charm bracelet, sealed in an evidence bag, “Do you recognize it?”

Author’s note:

Inspired by me finishing Better Call Saul and being torn apart by Jimmy and Kim. Also added Saul Goodman to my list of Old Men I’m Obsessed With 😭 Anyways stream the Breaking Bad universe on Netflix! Thanks 4 reading!! <3

#mine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reidxreader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #Spotify

[astro-kitty-launch]

Chances Not Taken

[Wally West x Reader x Dick Grayson]

Chapter 2: False Trust

Chapter Summary: Trust the core of every solid relationship. It can either break or make all the difference in a relationship. Is there trust true or is it false? What can the breaking or making of trust create? For Wally trust is everything. For Sianna, trust is a luxury. For Dick you're nothing without it.

------------------------

KID FLASH’S P.O.V.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

July 4, 14:00 EDT

This was a moment Wally could have only ever dreamed about since he was just a child. When his dreams, hopes, and aspirations, were all he had to his name. Never had he imagined them coming into reality with The Flash, his idol as his sidekick. Though he wasn’t just a sidekick, he and Flash were family. 

The rush pounded through Wally’s veins drowning out the sounds around him like the first time he broke the sound barrier. His vision narrowed as they all headed towards The Hall of Justice, drawing in the attention of a small group of tourists. Pausing for a moment his eyes soaked up the sight of every centimeter, every detail, and every sound were all being carved into his mind. A moment he’d remember for the rest of his life.

A warm hand pressed into the small of his back, snapping his head in the direction to see Flash’s affectionate smile, “ Hey Kiddo, I promise if you blink it’ll still be there.”

“Yeah, I promise I’ll make you proud.” Kid Flash's lips curled into an earnest smile, slipping past his brash outer layer. He’d prove that by joining the league and doing the good Barry always did every time he put on the mask. 

Before speeding up to catch up with the rest of the group that was a few feet away. Drawing in the normal attention that came with the territory of being a superhero. The excited chatter was followed by the clicks and flashes of cameras as they walked along. Ranging from kids to adults, they were all dressed in some form to show the symbols of their favorite heroes.

Excitement buzzed around them, even if no one got his hero alias right, it didn’t matter to him. In the corner of his eye, he spotted Rowena tucked close into Robin’s side, his plush lips pursed. Each step was slow as if one false move was made a trap door would open. He’d go as far as to say that he were hesitant, but why?

“Ready to see the inner sanctum?” GA's voice cut through, snapping him out of his monetary focus on Rowena.

“Born that way,” Speedy stated, the archer’s voice oozed with utter certainty. 

“I am glad we are all here.” Aqualad breathed out each word sincerely.  

“ Have all 5 sidekicks ever been in the same place at the same time?” Kid Flash emitted aloud. 

Though in the back of his mind he wished Kyle, one of the Green Lanterns of earth, wasn't off-world with Hal, another Green Lantern of Earth. It felt wrong not having one of their fellow sidekicks among them for such a momentous day. Even more so that they couldn’t share this moment together.

“ Don’t call us sidekicks! Not after today.” Speedy snapped harshly, causing him to blink at the sheer force in his friend’s voice.

“Sorry. First time at the hall. I’m a little overwhelmed.” The speedster shrugged it off, knowing just how much this day meant to Speedy. 

“You’re overwhelmed, Freeze was underwhelmed. Why isn’t anyone ever just whelmed?” Robin heaved a sigh of exasperation, picking up his pace to get across the threshold and into the Hall.

 “ Oh, maybe that’s why.” The Boy Wonder mused allowed at the sight of the colossal-sized statues of the founding members of the league. Starting from the right with Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, Flash, and Aquaman. 

Kid Flash found his gaze wandering back to their silent companion dressed in a kimono top with bandages wrapped halfway up his lower arm down to his slim wrist. Preventing the sleeves from hanging out loosely to be grabbed at. 

Creating a puffed effect hiding the dimension of the arms beneath. Around his neck was a leather choker with a dazzling ultramarine crystal carved into the shape of ankh except there was an eye in the center of the loop. 

With black pants twin ultramarine blue lines on the sides. Sandwiched between the lines was the symbol of ankh. To have the same puffed effect as the top, the pants were tucked into a pair of combat boots. Hiding almost every inch of Rowena’s body minus half of their face. He always wondered why he was dressed so modestly.

Maybe he’d get an answer to that one day when they finally bridged this distance between them. 

“ Robin, Speedy, Aqualad, Kid Flash, Rowena, Welcome.” A deep baritone voice echoed; standing on the threshold of the metal door were Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado.

“ You now have unlimited access to the gym, our fully stocked galley, and of course, our library.” Leading them into the rectangular room that was filled with books on either side. 

In the far back were a cluster of arm chairs grouped around a few coffee tables. Drilled into the wall was a large computer and next to it was a door that read: Justice League Members Only. Him, Aqualad, and Robin took up the armchairs as Rowena perched himself on the arm of Robin’s chair.

“Make yourselves at home.” Flash gestured in his typical laid-back manner, but it seemed stiffer than usual to Kid Flash. Maybe these were one of those moments his mom mentioned where Barry was overcome with emotions. Then again, it wasn’t every day his nephew /sidekick was one step closer to becoming a full member of The League. 

Soon Batman, Flash, and the other leaguers faced one another until Gotham's hero spoke, “Quick debrief to discuss the coincidence of four ice villains attacking on the same day.”Batman paused and then stated to the five of them; “ We shouldn’t be long.”  before turning as the Zeta Beam scanner began scanning.

“Recognize: Batman, 0-2; Aquaman, 0-6; Flash, 0-4; Green Arrow, 0-8; Martian Manhunter, 0-7; Red Tornado, 1-6.” The automated voice of the scanner announced.

Kid Flash paused, was that it? Was this the tour of the Justice League HQ, or was it going to pick up once their mentors were finished with their private conversation? Then in record time, Speedy exploded; each word and exchange with Aquaman and Green Arrow left him perplexed. What did he mean by a real look? 

They were getting a real look, maybe Speedy expected something more?

A small voice in the back of his head agreed he had expected there was more to what was The Justice League HeadQuarters. Kid Flash felt as though he had just turned on a show mid-episode and missed out on key points from the beginning. Now he was completely lost trying to piece together the what and why. 

Why did Roy need to be patient?

“What I need is respect. They’re treating us like kids. Worse- like sidekicks! We deserve better than this!” Speedy whirled to face them, yanking him back into his body and out of this bizarre out-body experience.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re playing their game? Why? Today was supposed to be the day, step one in becoming full-fledged members of the league.” Speedy fumed, thrusting his hand down, rage seemed to flow off the archer. 

Kid Flash glanced at Robin, who seemed almost unreadable if you looked closely at the way his mask creased, you could tell the Boy Wonder was shell-shocked. Aqualad's eyes seemed to grow darker, similar to how the sky grew darker when it was about to storm. Rowena was impossibly still to the point Kid Flash could have mistaken him for a statue if it weren’t for how tightly he gripped his sleeves.

“Well, sure, but I thought step one was a tour of the HQ.” Kid Flash inquired tentatively, his face having gone blank as his brain whirled hectically in confusion. What was wrong? Did he and everyone else miss some kind of memo? Glancing at The Flash, hoping to see an answer in the scarlet clad hero, Kid Flash discovered Barry wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“ Except the Hall isn't the league's real HQ. I bet they never told you it’s just a false front for tourists and a pit stop for catching zeta beam teleporter tubes to the real thing, an orbiting satellite called the Watchtower.” Speedy seethed, delivering one of the most massive bombshells in the history of Kid Flash’s life.

His mouth gaped, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he replayed Speedy’s words over and over. Opening and closing his mouth, words failed him as he was thrusted unceremoniously into a tailspin. 

Why…why hadn’t Barry said anything? They were partners, they were family, weren’t they? Again he tried to catch the man’s gaze only to see a resigned expression. How could he have gone along with this charade? Why even bother lying or doing all of this? Why?

“Or what? You’ll send me to my room? And I am not your son! I’m not even his. I thought I was his partner, but not anymore.” More deafening than any of Speedy’s rage-filled words was the resounding sound of his hat hitting the floor. 

“ Guess they’re right about you four. You’re not ready.” Speed spat out with so much venom Kid Flash was utterly floored. 

He, Aqualad, and Robin sprung up to their feet while Rowena’s hands shook. The world felt impossibly slow as their friend stormed out of the fake Hall of Justice. His mouth was so dry it burned with such intensity he nearly choked. Details blurred together none of this happened like how he dreamed it would. Acid burned through his veins, consuming both his mind and body. Glancing at The Flash, unable to hide the heartbreak. 

There had to be a reason.

Barry, wouldn’t purposely hurt him or his friends like this, right?  

Soon the huge monitor blared as the screen materialized a video call from the man of Steel himself. “ Superman to Justice League. There’s been an explosion at Project Cadmus. It’s on fire.” Superman reported. Soon the room dissolved into a conversation about Cadums being on fire and Batman having suspicions that something was up.

Until another message blared through, it was the Leagues on sorcerer Zatara. “Zatara to Justice League. The sorcerer Wotan is using the amulet of Attan to blot out the sun. Requesting full League response.” The European man reported another far more serious emergency, one that could harm every living thing. After all ,the sun was one of the four key necessities for life.

With no further deliberation, Batman had decided to pursue the blotting out the sun mission. Kid Flash, Robin, and Aqualad surged forward; they weren’t about to be shoved out of a mission like this. A mission where they could show them all they were capable and not some children who needed constant supervision. 

“We’re coming,” Kid Flash stated rapidly, honing all his senses on Flash. 

“No, you’re not, Kid,” Flash told him firmly with the same amount of speed.

“You don’t trust us!” Kid Flash accused the words flew out without a second thought.

“This whole time y-you…” His voice shakes as everything that had happened sunk in. 

“Wally! Enough.” Flash ordered, his usual laid back demeanor had completely evaporated. 

“Flash! KF! Slow down, none of us understand super speed.” Robin cut through before Kid Flash could retort. 

Glancing at his best friend, he saw concern and worry in his eyes. It was only then Kid Flash realized that they had been speaking so fast that no one had been able to make out what had been said.

“ Stay put,” Batman ordered, his voice brokered no room for further argument that normally they would not dare question.

“ What! Why?” Robin cried out, just as taken aback by his mentor.

“This is a league mission. “ Aquaman calmly stated.

“ You’re not trained,” Flash added.

“ Since when?” Kid Flash yelled, they’ve trained themselves, they fought side by side since he was fourteen. Each answer was a stab to his heart, but none went as deep as Flash's short and to-the-point blows.

“I meant you’re not trained to work as part of this team.” Flash clarified as if that made sense, yet to Kid Flash it translated to: We don’t trust you.

“There will be other missions when you're ready,” Aquaman added diplomatically as if that made it any better.

“ But for now, stay put.” Batman finished with his signature bat glare soon all the members except them had left the Fake Hall of Justice. 

“ When we’re ready!? How are we ever supposed to be ready when they treat us like…like sidekicks?” Kid Flash huffed, pacing while gesturing wildly with his arms.

“My mentor, my king, I thought he trusted me,” Aqualad said softly, appearing crestfallen, not that he could blame the guy. To have been told they were trusted only to find out they weren’t trusted cut deep.

“Trust? They don’t even trust us with the basics! They’ve got a secret HQ in Space!” Kid Flash thrusted his arms into the air. 

“Ro, you’ve been pretty quiet, in fact, you’ve barely reacted? You didn’t even say anything. Did you know about Zatara?” Robin questioned, tilted his head meeting the gaze of the cat-masked hero.

Kid Flash froze, glancing over at the silent stare-down Robin was currently having with Rowena. Speeding over to the two, he winched, seeing how the male flinched at his fast approach. He had noticed it too, the stillness or how Rowena didn’t add to the conversation. 

A big part of him wanted to reach out to physically squeeze or offer a comforting touch. Except he knew that wouldn’t be well received coming from him, at least not yet. Rowena may have been stubborn, but Kid Flash was bullheaded, he’d befriend the guy one way or another.

“Why bother? What would it have changed, Rob? No, I only knew he was busy with a case he thought was too dangerous for me to be a part of.” Rowena signed, acting as though these events were inevitable as his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“Yeah, but you haven’t been even a smidge bit surprised or even angry?” Robin pointed out to keep his voice even.

“ Cause I had a feeling something like this would happen.” The cat-masked hero shrugged, arms crossed, glancing away. Wait, what did he mean that he had a feeling this would happen? Was he like Roy, who already knew about the Watchtower?

“What? So you were in on this?!” Kid Flash's voice rose, feeling as though his heart was about to drop to the floor.

“What!? No! I just had some pessimistic theories of what was happening. I didn’t think I was right. That they’d do this.” Rowena objected, immediately taking a step closer to Robin, who shot him a scolding look that almost rivaled Batman’s.

“What do you mean, Rowena? You can tell us.” Aqualad stepped up, his shoulders remained relaxed and untensed, unlike Kid Flash, who was completely rigided. 

Silence soon fell as Rowena shifted from foot to foot as he chewed heavily on his lower lip. Kid Flash caught how despite how their gaze was lowered down they subtly glanced at each of them. 

He tried relaxing, except he wanted the guy to hurry up, every cell in his body screamed for him to move in some way. To get out some of this momentary frustration to distract his mind from all the theories forming in his head. 

“I do want to join the league just like you guys. Though when it was first brought up, I found it odd. I mean sure, we all got a few years of experience and all. But I never imagined it would be brought up until we were legal adults. It felt too good to be true.” Rowena's voice came out small and soft, quivering at a few points.

“Why did it feel too good to be true? What’s your reasoning Rowena?” Kid Flash blurted out without hesitation. 

“Because we’re all underage except for Roy. Don’t you remember the social backlash for ‘taking children on as sidekicks’. If they made us members of the league now you think there wouldn’t be an uproar? Everyone generalizes, it’s natural and the first thing people will see is our ages. It’s social suicide.” Rowena waved his hands up in the air causing the speedster pause at the reasoning.

Breathing in deeply, the male superhero continued, “Plus, I haven’t done anything extremely note-worthy to earn the league’s recognition. I’ve never saved the world from the sun being blotted out. I didn’t feel as though I was ready, deserved to be a member, or even earned it.” Each word was raw and vulnerable, striking a cord deep inside the speedster.

 Hearing him give voice to his deepest fears thinking back to the group chat; Rowena’s response made much more sense now. It astounded him as he always thought of Rowena as a closed book. Only to throw his perception of how Rowena was out the window to find he had to go back to the drawing board.

“Hell, I wasn’t going to even come today. If Robin and Kent hadn’t conspired to kidnap me here. I wondered why they were doing this. Now we know they played with our hopes.” Rowena huffed, raising his face up to focus on the Boy Wonder, who smirked conspiratorially. 

“ Well, then let’s prove them wrong. Let’s do something noteworthy.” Kid Flash proposed, his eyes sparked with the new idea. That was it. They had to show the League they were too quick to jump to conclusions about what they can and can not do.

“ For the record, Rowena, I think you are a worthy hero,” Robin murmured softly, squeezing their companions shoulders.

“Agreed. Let’s start with this. What else aren’t they telling us?” Aqualad voiced.

“I have a better question. Why didn’t we leave with Speedy?” Robin sighed.

“Because unlike Speedy, we value and care about our mentors. That isn’t a bad thing. Being a hero doesn’t mean we must do everything by ourselves, Robin.” Rowena blurted out, flailing his arms into the air before placing either of them on his hips.

“Right you are, Ro.” Robin chuckled.

“What is Project Cadmus?” Aqualad mused allowed.

Kid Flash wondered about that as well as what exactly was going on in this Project that had the Dark Knight of Gotham trying to suss out. In seconds after a single failure, his best friend managed to hack into the Justice League computer as though he was simply unlocking a baby gate.

Project Cadmus, according to the file, was a genetics lab located in D.C.. The file itself only provided morsels of information and nothing on what was supposedly happening behind the scenes that had the best detective suspicious. 

“Solve their case before they do. It would be poetic justice.” Aqualad murmured, a spark flashed in his eyes.

 “Hey, they are all about justice.” Robin grinned mischievously.

“But they said stay put.” Aqualad reminded them of their mentor's orders.

“ For the blotting out the sun mission, not this.” Robin reasoned, unafraid to bend the rules for their own purposes.

“Wait, are you going to Cadmus? Because if you’re going, I’m going.” Kid Flash flashed an award-winning smile placing his hands on his hips. 

“ Just like that, we’re a team on a mission?” Aqualad raised a brow.

“ We didn’t come for a playdate.” Robin snorted.

“ I don’t know about this, guys. Go on without me. I don’t want to break their trust or disappoint them.” Rowena fretted, clenching and unclenching his hands, resembling the flapping wings of a butterfly. 

“ Well, if they find out, we’ll just say we roped you into this and are completely innocent, Rowena. Come on, take a chance with us.” Kid Flash assured his body acting before his brain could process the consequences. 

As he gently gripped the shorter male's hands, silently communicating that he’d never abandon a friend. Rowena goes rigid before yanking his arms away, taking a few steps away. A tight lump formed in his throat, why did Rowena only react this way with him?

“ Plus, if we pull it off, they’ll be proud, not disappointed. After all, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Robin reasoned his voice didn't contain an ounce of worry. 

“We all have one another's backs, yours included.” Aqualad promised solemnly though it sounded more like had just taken a blood oath.

“Then, I’ll have all three of yours no matter what. Promise.” Rowena tentatively met all their gazes before quickly averting his gaze from his as the first smile of today crossed the guy's lips.

--------------------

SIANNA’S P.O.V.

Exhaling deeply, Rowena centered her mind on their mission on her role as a hero. She, along with the rest of the sidekicks, arrived at the scene of the Cadmus Lab fire. The firemen were already there attempting to subdue the flames while two workers cried out for help. 

Seeming relatively mild, nothing crazy like a huge lava villain launching an attack in the name of vengeance. Until a loud boom went off. Sending the scientists out the window quicker than any of them could react, Kid Flash clumsily came to their rescue. For a moment, she thought he’d need to be rescued himself. 

“ Geeze, does he ever think before he acts?” Rowena released an exasperated sigh, caught between wanting to cease Kid Flash and shake him or sinking to the floor in relief. Though she did neither, now wasn’t the time to let her annoyance or loss of nerves show.

“ So smooth. It’ll be fine. Kid Klutz managed.” Robin snickered before whispering the last part in her ears, giving her a gentle pinch. Understanding, she nodded before drawing on her well of magical energy. Causing the hairs on her arm to stand as she chanted a spell under her breath. She then backed into a portal arriving inside the room Robin was pulling Kid Flash into. 

Without a pause, Robin began hacking the computer as Kid Flash began poking around the area at super speed. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, reaching out with her senses. Opening her eyes when she found nothing, she licked her lips unconsciously. Blanching when she realized she was nose to nose with Kid Flash.

Higher Beings, did he have any concept of personal space? And Robin wanted them to try to be friends, how preposterous. Not after what had happened a few months before it was in that moment she realized it was impossible.

“ So is there any ‘magic’ involved?” Kid Flash probbed, creating air quotes with his fingers.

“No, the fire was made non-magically, Kid Flash,” Rowena replied, creating some distance between them.

“But something about this place is definitely strange. I just…” She trailed off softly, stalking further into the building.

“Did your ‘magic’ tell you that?” Kid Flash inquired mockingly, his voice pitched when he empathized with the word ‘magic’.

‘No, my gut did, or is listening to your gut not scientific enough for you?’ Is what Rowena wished to say, except she rained in her urge to snap back. She knew he was baiting her now wasn’t the time to hash things out. Higher Beings, what was his issue?

“No, my gut.” She muttered before walking over to Aqualad, who just arrived.

“Appreciate the help.” Aqualad drawled, sarcastically as he started to take in the room.

“You had it covered. Besides, we're here to uncover what’s going on here. Poetic justice….” Rowena elbowed Robin, sending him a look before turning to Aqualad.

“What he means to say is it was divide and conquer; it doesn’t take the whole group to save them.” She added as Robin pouted at her, kneading his sides.

“I should have never taught you that,” Robin muttered sulkily, drawing a small snicker out of her.

“ Agreed, it doesn’t require everyone. I’ll take a look around.” Aqualad nodded as Rowena fell into step beside him.

“I’ll join you. We should use the buddy system. Not that you’re not capable Aqua-” Aqualad raised his hand to silence her as his gaze softened.

 “It is fine. We are in an unknown environment, it would be prudent not to act too carelessly. Thank you.” His response soothing her as she was far too used to two certain individuals being fussy with how they received assistance.

Glancing around nothing felt too out of place, except the more normal the surroundings appeared, the more the tighter her stomach clenched. After all, Batman had been suspicious about Cadmus. Except a small voice in the back of her head screamed that they shouldn’t be doing this. She yearned for it just to be a fire and nothing more than that.

What if things got out of hand?

What if they were the kind of scientists that did unethical experiments?

A sharp beep shattered the oddly quiet building, snapping her head over and catching a glimpse of something inhuman; a shriek whelled up in her throat. Staggering back, glancing back at Aqualad, whose eyes widened, “There was something in the-” 

“What? Elevators should automatically seal off in fires.” Kid Flash cut in, joining them in the hall, with Robin appearing a few seconds later. 

“ This is wrong,” Robin muttered as he began rapidly tapping at his holographic wrist device. 

“Yeah, dude, we got the elevator that shouldn't be working.” Kid Flash reiterated his comment from before.

“ Ha, thought so. This type of high-speed express elevator doesn’t belong in a two-story building like this.” Robin explained as Kid Flash nodded in understanding. 

“Neither is what we saw.” Aqualad breathed out, sending a silent message to the three of them: Get Ready. 

“Woah! And that’s why they need an express elevator.” Robin stated before using a grappling gun to go down.

Rowena paused, staring into the dark elevator shaft biting her lip as her stomach sank. This wasn’t creepy at all. Not like they didn’t discover an opening to a potentially evil lab. How often were there secret laboratories for good. She was hesitant about jumping carelessly into a most likely dangerous situation.

Of course, Robin and Aqualad didn’t hesitate to dive in, headlong into peril, it’s what heroes do. Rowena wished she was able to shut off the part of her brain that seemed to delight in picturing all the worst cases. But she wanted to be recognized by the league to show what they could do. The magic user also vowed to have their backs, which she couldn’t do if she didn’t go down.

“Hey, Kitty-cat, don’t turn into a Scardy-cat, man up and go down.” Kid Flash taunted, causing her to frown at him as her brow twitched behind her mask. Biting back the urge to say she was a girl, unfortunately that would break the glamor. A glamor she vowed to keep when she became Zatara’s sidekick. 

 Counting from one to ten backwards, she watched as the Ginger grabbed onto the rope. His emerald gaze burned into her daring her to jump down as he lowered himself down.

  Should she go or stay?

‘Don’t hesitate, just go for it' Her grandfather's words resonated in her mind.

Sucking in a deep breath, she made her choice.

-------------------

This cross posted on Ao3

Chances Not Taken

<<<<< Chapter 1 Chapter 3 >>>>>

#wally west #richard grayson #kid flash #dc robin #robin #superheroes #dc comics #dc batman #young justice #wally west x reader #wally west x you #wally west x y/n #wally west x dick grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #justice league #dc flash #dick grayson x wally west #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dc x reader #kid flash x reader #dc comics x reader #dc fanfic #young justice fanfiction #dick grayson fanfiction #wally west fanfiction #robin x you #robin x reader

[singularityknight]

Dear my #halfson...

I’m #SimonMagus... dummy!

The OG... Simon Magus...

You can verify this by instinct alone and even with... some thought...

But that was a long time ago...

When I was the world’s most powerful metahuman...

I fought my Peter... Saint Peter... to a draw.

I bent the knee... only to Christ the Lord... God Himself... for The Father The Son...

In those days...

I made stardust memories...

But now...

I’m just...

An old geezer and deep RPer... deep roleplayer... as you kids say these daze...

I play...

Shazam.

I guess you could call me... something of a Head Honcho or OG... maybe...

Hehe...

So I guess... I could take you under my wing...

Kid Eternity...

Y-y-yeah... Kid... Kid Eternity!

Yeah....

Ultimate power....

You can summon anyone except for me... >:P

Hooray!

The dynamic duo!

SHAZAM... a man of... ummm... ULTIMATE POWER! >:D... and and... his sidekick... slash apprentice... slash intern....

KID ETERNITY!

>:D

...

>:D...

...

Heh...

Stick around kid... I’ll introduce you to all the biggest... baddest... strongest OGs in all of meta and metahumanism... the metaphysicals... very physical...

My boys~

You’ll meet...

Not... Green Lantern... or Martian Manhunter... lol...

That’s... ummm....

Gracie Barra...

I guess you could call me.... a Rickson black belt...

Heh...

So yeah... I’ll introduce you to some of the guys you’ll be training with...

Paul... Saint Paul...

Ummm...

Adam...

Not the... uhhh.... one with the ummmm...

Not Black Adam.

I mean Adam.... from Eden... >;)

...hehe...

And ummm...

Uriel...

the... >;)....

Ar... ar... ar... archangel... >;D...

You may have heard of him... hehe... >;)...

Well...

I have to get going now... Kid Eternity.... or my halfson as they could say~

Gotta roll... with some... really strong and tough guys...

...among them?... well.. hehe... >:)...

Aaron.

Yeah...

That’s right....

I know him....

THE Aaron...

The Prophet Aaron...

Heh...

He rolls with... a guy who goes by the OG moniker of....

Moses.

You...

You... have heard... of Moses have you not?...

The Prophet Moses...

Yeah....

I roll like that...

And we roll... deep....

Hella deep....

So... be ready Kid Eternity...

To train with a real Shazam....

Roll with the big boys...

Heh...

Regards,

S.

#Singularity #Ponzi #cough

[fandom-puff]

Manhunt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hey, I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where y/n gets kidnapped, please? Maybe Tommy’s getting extremely angry and worried and only calms down when he gets her back. Of course it’s up to you. Female reader if possible. Thank you so much :)’

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, swearing, injury (result of knife, beatings)

Bold italics = flashback

Gif creds to owner

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Polly demanded from her desk, arms folded and lips pursed as Tommy stumbled through the door.

“Ah, let him be, Pol,” Arthur grinned, clapping him on the back. “Reckon his head’s still on his honeymoon. Been stuck in bed with the missus all morning, eh, brother?”

Tommy smirked boyishly. “No. Fuckin’ car broke down. Anyway, YN left ours hours ago, said she was seeing Ada before she buggers back off to London,”

At that moment, Ada walked through the door, holding one of John and Esme’s kids on her hip, bouncing him gently. “I haven’t seen YN today, Tom. Didn’t show up to our reservation in that nice cafe. Haven’t heard from her, so I just thought she was with you,”

Tommy frowned deeply. “But... she left at half eight to catch the bus. I told her I’d give her a lift but she said she needed to run a few errands before she met up with you,” he checked his pocket watch quickly. “It’s gone noon. Are you lot sure you haven’t heard from or seen her?”

“Tom, it’s fine, she’s probably just caught up in the shops or something,” John said, lighting a cigarette.

“No. It’s not fucking fine, Johnboy. She left at half eight this morning, stood Ada up in her favourite cafe- and she’s been going on about it for weeks- and no one has seen hide nor hair of her for hours. Something’s wrong,”

Jaw set harshly, Tommy strode out of the betting shop, closely followed by his brothers. “Oi! Finn. Run and tell Sergeant Moss that I said to have a search party out. Tell him YN’s missing. Then on your way back, go to Charlie’s yard and tell him to keep an eye on the canals for her, alright. Good lad,” Finn nodded and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What about us, Tommy?” Arthur said. “Tell us what to do,”

***

Slowly, your eyes opened, though you still couldn’t see anything- a length of fabric covered your eyes, blocking out all light. Every inch of your body ached, and you became vaguely aware of the stinging sensation at your wrists- they were bound behind your back, the tightly knitted rope rubbing your skin raw. Judging by the slight jostling movement of your body and the hum of an engine below you, you were in a vehicle, being driven god knows where.

Deciding to keep quiet, you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, trying your hardest to recall the previous hours...

***

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” you smiled, giving your grinning husband a final kiss goodbye before setting off to the bus stop. Tommy had offered you a lift, but you declined, saying something about errands and scenery. It was an alright day, by British standards, the sun trying its hardest to peak through the thin clouds.

You were halfway to the bus stop when you felt a presence behind you. Hurrying your steps a little more, knowing the old gentleman from the village would likely be at the stop for his weekly shop, if you could just get around this bend, you dared a look behind you, before colliding head on with something- or rather someone.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” you said, making to step around him, but his arms shot out, grasping onto you while the man behind you yanked a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards.

“Don’t you worry, Shelby,” he said, a slight accent lacing his low voice. “You will be,”

You tried to stamp your heels down on the attackers’ shins, you made to bite the hands closest to your face, to wriggle as much as you could. As you began to scream, a damp cloth was held over your nose and mouth, making your eyes roll back and your body slacken, allowing the two men to drag you to their vehicle, hidden by the shrubbery and blossoming trees and the loud caws of the birds.

***

Tommy was in full panic mode. He had Peaky Blinders scouring the whole of Birmingham, Sergeant Moss had managed to telephone the London police and have a telegram sent to every constabulary in the country to keep an eye out. Johnny Doggs had the Lee boys out, and Charlie was stopping every boat the passed through the cut.

Tommy kicked the table in the betting shop, sending papers and coins flying. “Where the fuck is she?” He roared, eyes flashing with some anger, but mostly fear.

“We’re doing everything we can, Thomas,” Polly said firmly, patting her nephews back and pushing a cup of tea into his hands. “It’s well sugared. You need the energy,”

“It’s not fucking enough!” He yelled, taking one sip of the tea before slamming the cup down, sloshing the table. “She could be anywhere and we’re sat here like idiots!”

Polly sighed, retreating to man the phone, waiting for someone, anyone to phone with knowledge of your whereabouts.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” John said. “Esme’s down with the Lees making sure none of them are sat twiddling their thumbs. Moss has every copper in Birmingham on the case. Even the London coppers are looking for a Shelby, and their almost all under Solomons and Sabini,”

Tommy was quiet for a moment before he looked between his brothers. “Solomons and Sabini...” he said slowly, processing the information before his face hardened.

“Solomons is a mad bastard,” Arthur said quietly.

“Right. Car, now. We’re going to London,”

***

The blind fold was removed, but you still couldn’t see much. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the room you were in was plunged in almost complete darkness. Your hands were still tied, only now they (along with your ankles) were bound to a chair. You tried to shuffle the chair along, but it made a loud grating scraping noise, and caused a blinding pain to shoot through your nerves. Something was definitely broken.

“Shelby,”

The voices echoed around the room as you heard the men draw closer, their footsteps rapping sharply against the concrete ground. You strained your good eye, trying to make out their faces, but you could only make out vague face shapes, plunged in shadows.

“I told you, I don’t have any information!” You said urgently, preparing yourself for another punch or kick.

It didn’t come. Instead you felt the cold edge of a thin blade pressing against your swollen cheek. He dragged the blade slowly and you hissed as your cheek bloomed with stinging pain, feeling your hot blood trickle down your face and neck.

“We don’t want information,” the other man said lowly as you felt the tip of the knife press against your neck briefly. You held your breath, preparing for the worst, before the blade dropped. You let out a shaky breath of relief, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as a thick finger dragged along the fresh wound. “We don’t need one of Shelby’s whores for information,” you shut your eyes tightly, willing your tears not to fall. “We want to destroy Tommy Shelby,”

***

“Thomas! Thomas! Stop the fucking car now!”

The car squealed to a halt and Tommy almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “This had better be good, Pol,” he growled, grabbing hold of the phone. “Speaking,”

“That you, Tommy?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “Aye, Solomons. Make it quick. I’ve no time for business now,”

“Yeah, I know, right. Right fuckin’ fuss you’ve kicked up, yeah. Looking for that wife of yours, I heard. Well, Tommy, my coppers have been out and about , right, searchin’ high and fuckin’ low. Found nothin’ right,”

“Alfie,” tommy hissed. “I’m on my way down to London, now. If you’ve got no information, I don’t wanna hear any of your fuckin’ stories, alright?”

“Oi, you watch your tone, Tommy. I’m getting there. See now, Ollie’s missus’s got a friend whose friend is the wife of a fuckin’ wop, right. She says, right, that your wife, YN, had been on Sabini’s fuckin’ hit list from the very start. He’s got his coppers trying to dismiss this ever so mysterious disappearance, right. But my coppers, yeah, Tommy, you followin’?”

“I’m following,” tommy said through gritted teeth.

“Right, well my coppers have received a tip off from one of Sabini’s coppers that there’s some funny business going on in the old abandoned warehouse, you know the one, the one up in Cheltenham, what the anarchists set fire to,”

“You sure, Alfie?”

“Course I’m fuckin’ sure. Off you go, Tommy,”

***

How long you had been on the floor for, you had no idea. Your arms and legs were no longer bound- not that it made any difference. You couldn’t move without a fresh round of pain turning your stomach. Tears mixed with blood on your cheeks; you could barely keep your eyes open; you lay next to a pool of your own vomit due to the pain; your clothes were soaking with your own blood and urine; you were ready to die.

***

Gunshots. Three of them.

Three voices shouting, although you couldn’t distinguish what they were saying.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. You made to lift your head up off the floor, but sobbed in agony.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“YN, it’s alright, I’m here! They’re gone, I’ve got you,”

You felt the familiar warm hands on your body, the strong arms lifting you, the distinct smell. But you couldn’t open your eyes- you were simply too tired.

“Tommy...” you breathed, one hand bunched up in his coat.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help, okay, my love. Don’t you worry one bit, okay?”

You nodded, trusting your eyes to shut, knowing that this time, tommy would be there to shake you awake, preventing you from giving into the darkness.

#tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby x you #tommy Shelby angst #tommy Shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #request #2021

[honeyapplepi]

bro, imagine it’s like minecraft manhunt except you can’t die and dream is your bodyguard. not really taht good of an idea but if it gets u started than that’s good. i’ll come up with more later

Y/N Never Dies!

warnings: swearing

a/n: I switched who the bodyguard was, but it’s still the manhunt. I hope you like it! I’m not too big of a fan of the ending, but i couldn’t think of any other way to end it.

Italics = Flashbacks

(ALL PLATONIC) Dream x gn!reader, Sapnap x gn!reader, Georgenotfound x gn!reader

masterlist

Creeping over the ravine’s edge you watched as Sapnap and George chased Dream. Readying your bow you grabbed a slowness arrow out of your bag and positioned it towards Sapnap. Letting the arrow go you watched as it hit sapnap in the back. Sapnap fell to the ground causing george to stop.

“Sapnap? What happened,” George asked. Dream stopped for a second looking to where the arrow came from and saw you. You winked at him before quickly drawing back another arrow and shooting it towards George.

“What! Where did that arrow come from?,” George said looking around. You hid behind a nearby tree and waited.

“There must be a skeleton somewhere in here,” Sapnap said. Dream took this as a chance and quickly ran over to the two and hit them both with his stone sword.

“Dream!,” Sapnap yelled being hit by Dream. Dream quickly managed to kil Sapnap and soon killed george too.

You looked over the edge and then swam down the waterfall meeting dream at the bottom. Grabbing your arrows you placed the back in your bag and looked towards the blonde standing in front of you.

“A hood and mask really?,” Dream said. You rolled your eyes and pulled down the hood and cloth mask that covered your mouth and nose.

“I’m trying to be stealthy. Look at you, you’re wearing a bright green sweatshirt, and you wonder why they find you so easily,” You told him. “Anyways I should go before they come back you wouldn’t want them to find out you’re a cheater,” You said jokingly.

Dream just rolled his eyes at your comment decided not to come up with a remark. You pulled your hood over and your mask up and then started to walk away. “Bye, Dreaaam,” you said playfully dragging out his name.

As you strolled away, you thought about how a month ago Dream appeared at your door.

You sat on the balcony of your tree house reading a book. You weren’t really paying attention to your surrounding so you didn’t notice Dream walking towards your home, but luckily your dogs did. After hearing your dogs bark, you looked up from your book and noticed a man in a green sweatshirt approaching who you quickly recognized as Dream.

“Well well well. What do we have here?,” You said almost playfully standing up and looking over your balcony at the blonde. Dream was almost regretting this as he noticed the sly look in your face.

“I need your help, Y/N,” Dream said which caused a small smile to appear on your face. You were fine with being annoying about his need for your help as you could tell it wasn’t anything too serious.

“You mean THE Dream need my help. I almost feel honored,” You said smirking playfully. Dream looked at you his eye practically twitching in annoyance.

“Can we just talk about this inside,” Dream said. You just laughed and let him up the staircase that led to your home. You entered your house before he did and went to your kitchen to make tea.

“So, what do you need?,” you asked your tone more serious than before. Dream sat at your table while you stood by your counter watching the kettle that was over the fire.

“There’s a manhunt coming up and I want you to help me win,” Dream said looking at you. You turned around to grab teacups from your cabinets.

“I’m not interested in betting my life to beat a dragon that’ll respawan in a couple years,” You said pouring the boiling water in the two cup and placing a tea bag in both of them.

“No no, all I want you to do is help me win by secretly finding ways to stop Sapnap and George so I get ahead,” Dream said taking the teacup from you as you handed it to him.

“Plus you can’t die, so you aren’t really betting your life,” Dream said trying his hardest to convince you of his plan.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I can die you just can’t beat me,” you said looking at him. It was true though you liked that people believe you just couldn’t die it wasn’t true. You just never died because you were smarter and sometimes stronger than your opponents.

You sat down across from Dream taking a minute the think. “What do I get out of it?,” You asked suddenly.

“Whatever you want,” Dream told you.

“Fine, but i want a stack of books. I need to enchant some things and i’m out of books,” You told him. Dream looked at you confused almost as if books wasn’t a reasonable thing to want.

“Books, really,” Dream said almost insultingly whether or not he meant it to be.

“I mean I could always asked for something harder to find. Like a stack of diamonds,” You said looking at him. Dream quickly drew back his statement before you changed your mind on what you wanted.

“Okay it’s settled i’ll see you in a month. I should go,” Dream said standing up to leave. He looked down at the teacup for a minute before speaking again.

“That tea taste familiar. Did you steal Wilbur’s teabags?,” Dream said recognizing the taste of Wilburs homemade teabags.

“Are you questioning my integrity?,” You said pretending to be offended.

“I’m not entirely sure you have any,” Dream joked.

“Says the cheater,” You joked back.

It didn’t take long for Dream to find his way to the stronghold with you keeping your distance behind Sapnap and George. You were starting to get closer to them. The end was definitely where Dream was most likely to die and if you wanted those books you had to help him win.

Wandering through the stronghold you looked around for Sapnap and George making sure they weren’t close to where Dream was. You started to walk towards an archway when you heard the sound of Sapnap speaking to George. You quickly stopped placing your back flat against the cold stone.

“Sapnap, did you hear that? I think Dream is around the corner,” George whispered to Sapnap though it was loud enough for you to hear.

“Fuck,” you muttered as quietly as possible. You needed to think quick they were right there you couldn’t just run. You heard them crouching towards the archway. You thought fast and grabbed chicken eggs from your bag and through them towards the archway hoping they would hatch.

“Chickens!,” “Where did Dream get eggs?,” you heard from the two boys.

You quickly ran up the stairs trying to find a place to hide. You needed to think when it came to the end it was gonna be hard to not get them to see you. You had a couple invisibility potions but they would still see your bow and bag of arrows so it wouldn’t really help.

You didn’t know what to do. You were going to risk it. Worse case scenario they see you and find out Dream is a cheater and you don’t get your books. If that happens you can always steal some from Technoblade he always has a bunch.

Once you agreed with yourself on your plan you went to find the portal. By the time you go there it was already made and ready to enter. You were hopeful everyone had gotten through and wouldn’t see you when you enter.

After you went through the portal you looked around as you stood on the end stone platform. You spotted Dream running and attacking Sapnap and George. Taking this as your chance to find a place to hide you threw a ender pearl towards one of the obsidian towers.

Once you were teleported you looked over and made sure Sapnap and George were still distracted. You then quickly grabbed your diamond pickaxe and started digging through the tower. Once you were inside you built yourself up and then stopped once you reached a reasonable height. You dig through the obsidian in front of you so you could see them and hoped they wouldn’t notice you.

You knew if you did too much it would become obvious you were there so you mostly watched and sent a couple arrows near them every once in a while hoping they wouldn’t notice. Eventually Dream managed to win and killed the dragon without being killed.

You quickly made your way out of the tower contemplating whether or not to bug Dream about getting you the books. You decided against it and and started to get a pearl out of your bag when you heard something.

“Wait, who is that?,” you heard a british accent say. At that you froze tempted to just teleport and never appear again, but just turned around and pulled off your hood and mask.

“Sorry, Dream. I still get my books right?,” you asked looking towards Dream who had a look on his face that could only be described with the sentence “Oh my god, and they said i wasn’t stealthy”. Dream decided to accept his failure and swallow his pride, and explain to the two boys what was going on.

“Wait, so you cheated?,” Sapnap said still in disbelief that Dream would do all that just to win.

“Yep, he came to my home all desperate practically begging me to help. I felt so bad I had to do it,” you joked over exaggerating what had really happen just to annoy Dream.

“I’ll kill you” Dream threatened though you knew he wouldn’t do it.

“Remember, Dream. Y/N never dies!,” You said referring to yourself in third person.

“Isn’t it “Technoblade never dies”?,” George asked looking towards you.

“He stole that from me. I taught him everything he knows,” you said smugly only Dream knowing your joking. “....but don’t tell him i said that!,” you said your face dropping slightly.

#sapnap #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dream #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #technoblade #wilbur soot

[dr3am-t3am]

dteam wing!au, bc literally nobody can stop me.

my brain spit this out this morning, and i was like “i could make this and nobody could stop me” and now it exists. i put so much less thought than i should’ve into this. i dont even care. if anybody asks, this is inspired by “Minecraft, but we’re always flying” or something, but that’s not true i just wanted to draw the boys with wings.

some notes under the cut: 

- Dream was definitely the design i actually thought about the most. I wanted something fast and maneuverable for him, but not super expected (like a falcon or something, which is kind of a moot point considering the other two are super stereotypical wing designs, but also do i really care? no.) so I was thinking something like a kingfisher or a hummingbird at first, but that didn't really fit either, and plenty of birds are fast but not really agile. I then went into swifts, which are the fastest horizontal flying birds and are. super fast and maneuverable,, but guess what? they aren't the fastest horizontal flying animals.

- bats are.

- these tiny bats go around flying at 100 mph, making crazy turns and such all the while. theyre insane.

- Brazilian free-tailed bats ! look them up

- anyways i didn’t want to use bats at first bc stereotypical “evil” connotations combined with dream’s,, uh,, tendencies? (every manhunt vid, but especially speed runner v. mutant. you Know.) seemed like a super cliche take, but like come on. it worked too well. crazy bat boy doing crazy bat boy things. imagine the pun potential. 

- so anyways. he’s a bat.

- to be honest, I dont know what universe this would really exist in, real life or minecraft, but both have a lot of potential so. i might do more with this, because i supposedly made this up based on “minecraft but we’re always flying” i’ll put it in the mc world for now but like. both seem like too much fun

- anyways

- Dream is as I said, crazy bat boy. He is still minorly afraid of heights,, not as much as he probably is in real life but like,, he isn’t the most comfortable with them. He does love flying though, and in typical bat fashion he does a lot of dodging and weaving through trees and other crazy stunts. Bat wings are super jointed and flexible, so he’s able to weave through super busy landscapes pretty easily,, much to George and Sapnap’s chagrin

- George is a barn owl ! Partly bc though I know nothing about harry potter but i know owls are a thing with wizards and stuff in general, and george is apparently The harry potter nerd in the dteam, and partly bc owls are the bird equivalent to cats and george is a cat if you've ever seen one. also, his stupid goggles look like giant owl eyes. it works ok ? 

- he’s not as fast a flier as dream and sapnap, but he’s still a very effective hunter. he can fly Silently and he uses that to his advantage a Lot. unfortunately, he’s still colorblind, but he’s still got really good vision. his night vision, especially, is super good, as is his hearing

- george has. Lorge wings. he’s pretty average size, same as in real life, but he’s shorter than both dream and sapnap and has Massive wings. they’re super fluffy too, making them look even bigger, and the resulting image results in george looking pretty small for how Massive his wings are, like a child that hasn’t really grown into their clothes yet. they are the absolute best wings to cuddle with, even though he doesn’t do that often, and when he gets startled he raises them automatically to look a lot bigger than he actually is, in that owl way of becoming a circle. dream and especially sapnap find it hilarious.

- sapnap’s a red tailed hawk ! he seems to suit a bird of prey really well, and I associate the color red and orange with him a lot. Sapnap’s a great flier and very much enjoys screwing around in the sky, often way higher than dream and george really like to go up. He’s a fast enough flier, definitely faster than george, but nowhere close to Dream if they’re flying horizontally. However, he Can dive, and he can dive very very fast. He dive-bombs george Constantly, and sometimes manages to pull one on Dream if he and George do the planning beforehand. it doesn’t always work because Dream’s a little weasel and can maneuver himself out of place Fast once he notices, but they Have pulled it off a few times and his reactions are Golden. 

- Sapnap is *pretty* chill, but if you trigger his territorial instincts then he can become and absolute pain to deal with. This, of course, is why you can very often find sapnap and dream flying and chasing each other because dream was being a little a-hole and stole sapnap’s stuff or something. (he’s also very protective of his friends, who he consider as his territory, or home, not that he’s gonna say it or anything.)

- when sapnap gets into Instinct Mode he also rarely does the red-tailed hawk screech, which usually is enough of a shock to kick him out of it as both george and dream laugh themselves silly. both george and dream get the most flak for being the loud ones,,, (not even bc of his bird, for george, but just bc. He’s George) but that Screech puts everyone else to shame,, it’s just,, So Loud. 

- dream, when he isnt flying, is actually very protective of his wings. it’s not immediately obvious to the others, but because his wings are so small and maneuverable dream tends to fold them up and hide them under his clothes when he can, and otherwise keep them folded and away from everything else when he can’t. george has his wings folded about half of the time, and sapnap really never has his folded. they fly so much that it’s not super obvious, but dream’s wings are Delicate and full of tiny bones and joints thank u very much and he’s very protective of them

- both george and sapnap have feathers along their back and neck that will raise when they’re alarmed or scared. dream doesn’t, but his hair is Extremely fluffy and fine, to the point of almost seeming like fur instead of hair. 

- both dream and george lean towards a nocturnal sleep schedule, and sapnap basically grudgingly follows. they have a completely screwed up sleep schedule, just like real life. it be like that sometimes.

i’ll cut this off for now, but i have. more thoughts. we’ll see what becomes of them haha.

#dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamteam #dream team #mcyt #mcyt fanart #dteam wing!au #this is what ive been thinking about all day #myart #mywriting #i made the illustrations really quickly so theyre kinda messy #i like them anyways #this was fun #tell me if you want to see more !

[amyscascadingtabs]

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

Three different New Year's Eves, as celebrated by Jake and Amy (and Mac).

read on ao3 💕

december 31st, 2019.

The hotel guests checking in before Jake and Amy are a family. A little girl with blonde hair, maybe four or five years old, is carrying her own pink backpack and making up dance steps around her father’s feet as he goes through the information with the receptionist, and an even younger boy is hiding behind his mother’s legs as he watches the people in the lobby with wide eyes. Looking up, Amy realizes that the mother’s open coat is revealing a baby bump, too. She’d put her at six, maybe seven months pregnant. Three kids. Amy feels a pang of jealousy.

Even with the observation skills of an experienced detective, it shocks her how good she’s become at picking out families and pregnant women in any crowd. It’s an interesting talent, but measured against the pain it causes her, Amy wouldn’t call it a very useful one. She notices Jake looking at the kids as well, a daydreaming look on his face, and somehow, that makes her pain worse.

The idea behind going away to a hotel upstate for New Year’s was so they could get away from the stress for a moment; go somewhere else, rest and relax, forget about the pregnancy master calendar they’ve stared themselves blind at for a few days. Amy didn’t realize how impossible it would be to get away from all the other reminders.

She draws a breath of relief when the family in front of them gets the keys to their room, the little girl running first towards the elevator and her brother laughing as he chases after.

“Cute kids,” Jake whispers, watching them longingly.

“Yeah.” Amy tries not to think about the negative pregnancy test she threw away in the bathroom trashcan before they left. “Really cute.”

//

“I’m excited you said we could drink tonight.” Jake toasts his White Russian with her glass of Sauvignon. “It’s been a while.”

“I know, “ Amy feels the guilt wash over her. “Well, it’s not New Year’s Eve every day. I think we’ve earned it.” And I already took a negative test, she thinks.

“We sure have.” He gives her a closer look, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s worried about her. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just tired,” she says. It’s not technically a lie. “I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Lucky we have a huge hotel bed to help with that tonight, then. Seriously, this place rocks.”

Amy’s prepared to agree on that part – she did her research the moment it stood clear they would both get New Year’s Eve off. After getting their room, they’ve spent the evening getting massages in the hotel spa, dining at the surprisingly nice restaurant, and now they’re admiring the view from the bar on the top floor, waiting for the fireworks. It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

“Number five!” She rolls the r and holds on the i, earning herself an amused look from the older couple next to them. “Okay, I’m going to go with… that date you took me on for my birthday. I can’t believe you got into the puzzle bar this time!”

“I might have convinced the guard to let me in because it was your birthday, but still a good one. Number fooo-uur… the Cinco de Mayo-heist. God, that was fun, even if the tasing hurt like a bitch.”

“Agreed. Number three – when Holt finally invited us to that dinner party and I almost didn’t lose my cool once.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe. Number two… the Jake way. Seriously, I still think we should try that again. It was awesome.”

“It was, but also way inappropriate,” she reminds him, but he just shrugs. “Number one, then.”

“I know which one is mine, but you go first.”

Amy swallows, then sighs. “Mine is after the manhunt. When we decided to start trying. That’s still my favorite moment.”

“Mine, too.” Jake looks her in the eyes, and she knows the bittersweet feeling is shared. “It’s going to happen, Ames. I know it. Maybe this month’s the one.”

Amy doesn’t have the strength to correct him, tell him she’s already taken an early test and that she’s lacking any confidence there’s going to be a second line when she tests again in a couple of days. Luckily, she doesn’t have to, because right then, the fireworks that have been going off a few at a time in the distance begin to multiply as the countdown starts.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

Amy leans forward so she can be kissing him already when the new year begins.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

The crowd around them erupts into cheers as the sky glows with colorful explosions when burning bits of metal lighting up the darkness outside. Jake kisses her deeper, seeming to forget that there are people around with a bit of alcohol in his system and his hands cupping her face. For a moment, Amy lets herself just be happy.

~

december 31st, 2020.

The instant Amy closes her eyes for the more-than-well-deserved nap Jake told her to take while he made dinner, Mac begins to cry from his crib again.

“McClane, please,” Amy pleads, as if reasoning with her two-month-old would solve his discontent. “You can't seriously be hungry again, that’s insane.”

She tries with the pacifier first, checking his diaper, even standing up and walking around with him for a bit to eliminate anything else, but Mac is still clenching his fists and only looking even more furious with her, so Amy gives in. She sits down with him again, unhooks one side of the bra and lets him find his grip, exhaling when the peaceful suckles begin and the desperate crying finally ceases. She swears it looks like her son is side-eyeing her for taking too long, but to her defense, she fed him for a good forty-five minutes only a little over an hour ago and it's exhausting being used like a human pacifier. Growth spurt, Camila Santiago said when Amy called her in tears yesterday, and the problem-shooting section in the 0-3 months baby-binder had agreed. Amy would argue that sounds way too innocent for something which is turning her otherwise happy and smiley baby into a constantly hungry and crying mini-monster who won't close his eyes for more than twenty minutes at a time.

There's a soft knock on the door after a few minutes, and Jake peeks in. He’s wearing his fancy kitchen apron, which Charles gave him for Christmas with the comment that there’s nothing sexier than a dad who can cook. It hasn’t magically improved his cooking skills, but Amy’s willing to admit that it does look good on him.

“You guys doing okay?”

“He is, for now. I’m going crazy. How’s our dinner going?”

“Well, I haven’t burnt it yet, but there’s still time,” he grimaces, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything, babe?”

“Sleep, but that’s not going to happen.” Amy rubs her eyes. “It’s fine. He’s got to fall asleep at some point, though, this is nuts.”

“Don’t challenge him, he’s breaking records,” Jake says, leaning forward to tickle Mac’s feet. Mac reacts by kicking at the boob he’s not currently feeding from, making Amy curse. “Oops, sorry. Anyway, I’m sure he will fall asleep at some point, and we can have a nice, calm New Year’s dinner. I mean, he has to be exhausted, right?”

“God, I hope so. I’m starving.” She can see Mac’s eyelids getting heavy, but every time she thinks they’re about to fall closed, it’s like he twitches and stares at her, wide awake. “He’s lucky he’s cute.”

Jake grins. “Lucky indeed.”

Mac starts pulling away at that moment, a little bit of milk still dribbling from his cheeks. Amy reaches for one of the muslin blankets that’s never more than a few feet away in their home nowadays, lifting him so he’s upright against her shoulder and patting him on the back. She expects a burp, but instead, she gets an unpleasant surprise when he spits up, managing to get sour baby puke down her back and in her already greasy hair. She groans, giving Jake an exhausted look when she sees him stifling a chuckle.

“Hey, I’ll take him. You go take a shower and I’ll put him in the BabyBjörn. Maybe that will do it.”

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said,” Amy mumbles, and she’s not entirely kidding.

She makes the shower as long as she possibly can. Most days, she has to shower with Mac in the baby bouncer on the bathroom floor, so even the chance to be alone in the bathroom for more than five minutes feels like a luxury. She lets the shampoo really lather and the conditioner take its time to sink in, trying to massage the knots in her neck and shoulders under the hot water. She can hear Mac still fussing from the kitchen, and it makes her feel guilty even though he’s barely left her arms today.

“He’s fine,” she whispers to herself like a mantra. “He’s fine. Jake can handle it. He’s perfectly fine. Everything’s okay. You deserve this.”

She still skips the make-up and nicer clothes she had been planning to put on, throwing on a pair of maternity leggings and one of Jake’s old hoodies instead.

The dinner looks fantastic, some sort of chicken baked in the oven with rice and a lemon sauce, and Amy’s actually impressed. She imagines it would have been even nicer if she could have eaten it warm and together with Jake, but they only make it through toasting in orange soda and the first two bites before Mac wakes up from his ten-minute-nap, wailing as if he truly believed he’d just been abandoned. They end up having to take turns eating and walking laps around the living room with him, because he starts crying again if they stop moving for a second or as much as make an attempt to put him down. Amy is suddenly relieved they said no to her brother Tony’s New Year’s party-invite.

She can barely believe it when after what feels like the fiftieth or so feed of the day, Mac falls asleep. Curled up like a little frog on her chest and letting out the cutest of baby snores, he finally seems to relax, and Amy doesn’t even dare to breathe too sharply for the first ten minutes. Eventually, though, once it seems like he’s not going to wake up from the slightest movement or a raised voice anymore, Jake tucks them both in under a blanket and gets the Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and orange soda from the fridge. Then he gets another blanket for himself, and they snuggle up together in the corner of the sofa in front of the tv. From live footage at Times Square, Amy can see crowds of people waiting for the ball to drop.

“Wishing you were there?” Jake winks, but she just laughs.

“Are you kidding? Cold, crowded, and you can never even get a good view. This is better in every way.” She strokes her thumb over Mac’s dark hair. ���I have this one and you. That’s all I need. And ice cream,” she adds, digging out a piece of cookie dough from the tub.

“You’re right, it’s pretty damn close to perfection. Top five moments of 2020?”

Amy shakes her head, pointing to Mac. “No point. They’re all about him, anyway, and they’re all too good to compare.”

“True that.” Jake shakes his head. “Hey, isn’t it crazy that although he’s been kind of a nightmare today, I’ve already forgiven him?”

“No, it makes perfect sense, because I’ve almost wanted to give him away several times and now I can’t even remember why.”

“Having a baby makes us kind of crazy, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.”

“Me neither. Not even if I was offered a role in the next Die Hard-movie and Taylor Swift did the soundtrack.”

“That’s pretty big,” Amy laughs, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Would Taylor Swift do the soundtrack for Die Hard, though? Realistically speaking?”

“It’s a daydream, Ames!”

She has no time for a comeback, though, because right then, the countdown starts on the tv and Jake raises the volume a few bars so they can hear.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

p;

“New Year’s kiss,” Amy says, holding Mac up slightly so they can both reach him.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

They both smother his cheeks with kisses at the same time as the fireworks explode over the sky in the distance outside their windows and the crowd begins to cheer on tv. Mac doesn’t even flinch, completely oblivious to the celebrations going on outside. Amy sighs.

“How can he magically sleep through all of this, but wake up the second I put him down in his crib at night?”

Jake shrugs. “Babies, man.”

~

december 31st, 2021.

Amy has only started to take off Mac’s winter overall before he starts trying to flee, kicking wildly with his boots and pointing towards the kitchen where he’s already spotted Rosa. Jake notices her struggle and is quick to help her, and the instant the toddler is free, he hurries off towards his best friend.

“Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo!”

“Mac! Hey, happy new year, man!” Before Amy can even take off her own jacket, Mac is already in Rosa’s arms and babbling excitedly as he plays with her gold necklace. Amy wonders how much of what Mac’s saying actually makes sense to Rosa, but she’s nodding and smiling and seems to have abandoned whoever she was previously talking to in favor of the one-year-old.

“Jake. Amy.” Kevin appears to take their coats, shaking their hands. “Welcome. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres are in the living room, and I see your small child has made himself at home.”

“He found Rosa, yep.” Jake grins. “And he has a name.”

“Ah, yes… McClane.” Kevin nods. “Very well. I have to go check on… the kitchen. Enjoy your evening.”

  “He’s never going to like me,” Jake whispers to Amy the moment he’s left.

“Well, I think we both might have lost a few points with the name choice, babe.”

“He’s one to talk names, he’s got a dog named after a cheese!”

“I know, but we can’t tell him that. Come on, Jake, I have to find something to chew on before I get sick.”

“You can always blame it on the alcohol, if you do.”

“Jake.”

“Just kidding,” he grins. “You go check on Mac and Rosa and I’ll locate the snacks.”

 It turns out Rosa is more than willing to guard Mac for the evening, currently showing him the model train she's found in the library. Mac is watching with focus as Rosa helps him turn on the button that makes the train drive around the tracks, laughing as it lets out a choo-choo sound.

“Your son is much cooler than the rest of these lame partygoers,” she shrugs when Amy asks her if she's sure it's fine. “He says what he's thinking, unlike the rest of all these dum-dums.”

“Dum-dums,” Mac repeats, proud. Rosa nods.

“Exactly. I’ll call you if something happens.”

 And so, in an unexpected turn of events, Amy finds herself able to sit down for most of the evening without having to chase a wild toddler around to keep him from whatever dangers he could somehow manage to get himself into in Holt’s and Kevin’s house. She supposes it looks quite antisocial of her, and maybe it is, but she’s six weeks pregnant and the early symptoms of nausea and fatigue seem to be coming on both stronger and faster the second time around, so Amy doesn’t really care. She’s got lemon sparkling water for a non-alcoholic drink, a paper plate of carrot sticks, salted crisps and almonds, and she’s not going to talk to anyone unless they sit down next to her. It’s practically heaven. Jake checks on her from time to time, assuring her multiple times that they can just leave early if she wants to, but however tired she feels, Amy doesn’t want to insult Holt that badly. They’re staying until midnight as per proper New Year’s party etiquette, and then — and not a second later — they can go home so she can crash in bed.

 Rosa finds her again when Mac begins to get sleepy, rubbing his eyes and yawning but still shaking his head when Amy asks if he's feeling a little tired. He crawls over to her arms anyway, laying his head on her shoulder and hugging his arms around her chest.

“Thanks for looking after him,” she tells Rosa, but she just shrugs.

“No worries. I don't get to hang out with him enough. Your kid is dope.”

“Douh,” Mac whispers, mimicking her, and Rosa laughs.

“Repeats every word you tell him, too,” Amy says. “Yeah, he’s pretty awesome. Come over to our apartment at five-thirty in the morning on any weekend and you can hang out with him all you want. I won't stop you.”

Rosa scrunches her nose. “I’ll consider it.”

“He’s in a great mood then, I can assure you that.”

“I'll take your word for it. Also, Jake was tipsy talking baby names with some etymology professor when I saw him last, and he seemed very intense about it for a guy who's not currently thinking of naming any new babies. Or?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No, he just get thats intense when somebody implies McClane is a weird name,” Amy says, and makes a note to herself to remind Jake about their agreement not to tell anyone else at least until the twelve-week mark. “Which, to be fair, I warned him that people would think. But here we are anyway.”

“It is a weird name. Couldn’t imagine him being called anything else, though, even if I still don’t understand why you agreed to it.”

“There was a really good PowerPoint involved.”

Rosa looks at her questioningly, but Amy shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in explaining the unexplainable.

“Hmm. You guys are weird. You make pretty great kids, though.”

“Yeah.” Mac has fallen asleep by now, drooling a little bit on Amy’s shoulder. She kisses the top of his head and thinks of the abstract idea of her second kid, the thump-thump of an already present heartbeat they got so lucky as to hear on an early ultrasound yesterday. “The best.”

 As midnight draws closer, most of the guests take on jackets, scarves and shoes to venture out into the garden to watch fireworks. Not wanting to be left out, Amy and Jake manage to get a half-sleeping Mac, who wakes up suddenly interested when he hears about the promise of fireworks, into his overall and join them. It’s a surprisingly good view from the garden, the cold winter air waking them up, and Jake points out the vibrant displays in the sky to a drowsy Mac, who blinks at them dazedly. It’s so cute it makes Amy tear up. Being both a mom and newly pregnant does that to her; she’s given up trying to fight it.

  It’s hard to believe that two years ago, she was toasting in champagne in a hotel bar and wondering if they would ever make a baby together, and now she’s standing in a garden watching Jake with their one-year-old son and knowing that next New Year’s, if all goes well, they’ll be parents of two.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake must see her tears, because he looks worried, but Amy just smiles.

“Just how quickly things can change. How happy I am. And how much I love you.”

“Love you, too. Top three-hundred-and-sixty-five moments of this year,” Jake says, hugging her close so they’re standing in a little family bubble. “Every single day I get to wake up with and then come home to my family.”

  Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

  They both lean in so they can smother their son with kisses, and he laughs as he figures out what’s about to happen.

 Three, two, one… happy new year!

  The sky explodes with color, Jake and Amy attack their son with kisses, and as the new year begins, Amy thinks she might just be the luckiest person in the entire world.

~

#happy new year! #my writing #b99 #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #peraltiago fic #i've spent twenty minutes trying to fix the spacing on this and it still won't work because tumblr is a fucking hellsite #read it on ao3 if you want spaces

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch. 7

It had been a boring day, with nothing really happening. It was the usual Alya and Lila being petty today, with an extra snap towards Nino, but Marinette tuned them out, choosing to focus on her friends instead.

Damian hadn't messaged her all day. Marinette told herself not to stress, knowing that he was probably busy, along with his family. They had an important company that seemed to grow more and more every year, they probably had their hands full. 

"Hey, Marinette." Nino strode up beside her as they made their way back into the hotel, the sun beginning to set outside. He offered her a small smile, his hands in his pockets. "You're looking chipper today."

A part of Marinette wanted to ignore him, to shove him away and never talk to him again. But she just couldn't get the guts to do so, not to someone she had known for so long. She just hoped she wouldn't regret this.

"I met Damian's family last night. He has so many siblings, Nino! I know a lot of them are adopted, but still!" Marinette let out a soft chuckle, not noticing the glares coming from Alya, glares that to kill. 

"I didn't think he'd be nineteen." Nino admitted as they stepped into their lobby. He noticed Miss Bourbon at the reception desk, looking a bit frazzled, but didn't comment. "I mean, he looks like he should be in his twenties."

"It's probably all that muscle on him." Alix strode up, playfully nudging Marinette with a coy smile on her lips. "Tall, muscular, he looks like he could bench press a truck." 

"I bet he has abs." Rose sighed dreamily and leaned into Juleka, who laughed at her girlfriend's antics. "Does he have abs, Marinette?"

"I- I don't know." Marinette felt her cheeks go rosy at the thought of Damian shirtless. It would be nice to see his broad shoulders, his muscles… Even for a minute or two. "But it would be nice to see sometime, I guess.."

Adrien frowned a bit as he eavesdropped in on the conversation, feeling that ugly envy claw at his gut. Why would anyone want a musclehead? He bet Damian and his family took steroids to get the bodies they got, they were rich and privileged, afterall. 

Adrien was completely ignoring that while he had some muscle, he never actually put it to use, and could barely lift twenty pounds.

His eyes stayed trained on Marinette as she made her way across the lobby towards the elevators. She shouldn't be daydreaming about other guys, she should be thinking about him and only him! He was Chat Noir, her soulmate, and she belonged to him, no other guy. 

He'd make her see soon enough. Then they'd get married and have children and live happily ever after, just like they were supposed to!

He caught sight of Miss Bourbon walking by him, a confused look on her face as she clutched a room key in her hand. She was close to Marinette, maybe if he got close to the bullheaded woman, he could get close to his princess again. And then he’d show her what a real man can do.

…

Ladybug stared out at Gotham from on top of her hotel, smiling to herself as she heard the honking of car horns and the blaring of sirens. Her eyes raised to the dark sky, barely able to make out any of the stars. 

Her gaze quickly flickered to the forms landing on the building next to the hotel, before she rushed over and landed before the vigilantes. 

“You have good timing.” She smiled up at Batman, quickly eyeing the new people that had joined the group this time; Batwoman and Black Bat. But, remembering her manners, Ladybug held out her hand to them and smiled. “It’s nice to meet more of Gotham’s heroes. I’m Ladybug, from Paris.”

“Batman filled us in.” Black Bat smiled in return as she shook Ladybug’s hand. She gave her a quick head to toe glance. “You’ve very… spotty. And red.”

“That’s kind of the idea.” Ladybug winked, then stepped back, crossing her arms as she suddenly let out a sigh. “So, Batman, did the League say anything about who they will be sending?”

“I’ll be one of the ones going.” Robin put in before his father could answer. If he could get to Paris, that means he could probably spend more time with Marinette, that and make his Angel’s city a lot less dangerous for her. He hated to think of her being terrified daily by those akumas she spoke of. 

“Yes, as well as a few selected members, such as Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern, they’d most likely be able to handle whatever akuma could come their way.” Batman shot Robin a look, before turning back to the brightly coloured heroine. 

“Can they control their emotions?” Ladybug shot out instantly, crossing her arms, a guarded expression flickering across her features. 

“Excuse me?” Batwoman crossed her arms, cocking a brow.

“Oh, it’s nothing personal! It’s just… The idea of one of the Justice League members becoming an akuma is a… terrifying idea. I don’t think I’d be able to stop an akuma with that kind of training that you heroes here in America have. I think if I ever went up against one of the villians or anti heroes from here, I’m sure I’d be in big trouble. Probably lose.” Ladybug lowered her gaze, shuddering at the thought of someone like Superman getting akumatized. There would probably be no hope then.

Batman opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the sound of Robin drawing out his sword. Then he caught sight of a blond boy clad in black leather. 

“My Lady, there you are! What fate is it that we both happen to be in Gotham city?” Chat Noir grinned at his partner as he landed on the roof’s edge, his green eyes roaming over her slowly,  his grin widening. “Did you hunt me down to finally admit your undying love for me?”

“You’d better get out of here, alley cat, before I skin you alive.” The danger in Robin’s voice sent off alarm bells in Ladybug’s head immediately. “We don’t take to voyeuristic perverts around here.” 

“What are you talking about?” Chat’s head tilted to the side slightly as he eyed the sharp blade pointed in his direction, remembering how it had pierced his skin a few days earlier.

“You know that girl you kidnapped the other day? Well, we know you’ve been sitting outside her window, getting your jollies off while watching her.” Black Bat pointed to Marinette’s window, the blinds closed, thank god. “You must be some sick pervert, to watch a high school girl like that.” 

Chat Noir seemed to go a bit pale at their words, his gaze quickly flickering to Ladybug. 

“You’re not listening to them, right M’lady? They’re lying.” He stammered out, his grip tightening on his staff.

“Ladybug, you know that stuff that was on the roof that you warned me about? That was semen, and Chat Noir’s DNA here matched to it.” Red Robin spoke up, meeting Ladybug’s gaze, seeing how she went pale. “You know the girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Well, this disgusting pervert has obviously stalking her.”

“...” Ladybug took a few shaky steps away from Chat as he tried to reach for her.

“Don’t listen to them, M’lady, they’re lying. We’re soulmates, remember? I’d never do anything like that..” The nervous tone was obvious in Chat’s voice as he held out his hands in a gesture of reassurance. But he was cut off by a blade being shoved in his face. One look at all of the Gotham heroes, he could tell they all looked ready to murder him if he took another step. 

So Chat Noir did the thing he was always good at, he turned on his heel and bolted. 

“I’ll get him!” Batwoman snapped, taking off after him in an instant, becoming a blur of black that instantly melted into the shadows.

“Hopefully he’ll run into Red Hood, wherever that jackass disappeared to. He’s been doing that a lot this past week.” Red Robin muttered, looking ready to join Batwoman, until he heard the sound of a sob.

They all turned to look at Ladybug standing there, hyperventilating, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Ladybug?” Robin stepped forward, freezing as he watched the tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

“He… He was doing that… Outside of my window? B-but how long? Did he follow me here all the way from Paris? I never knew, I never saw him…” The sobs quickly took over as she took a seat on the cold roof, her body shivered more violently.

“... Marinette?” Black Bat knelt beside the poor Ladybug, before her arms instantly wrapped around her. So that high school girl she had just met yesterday… She was a superhero. “Oh Marinette, I’m so sorry.”

“Angel?” Robin whispered as he knelt on the other side of her. He watched helplessly as she sobbed, then quickly switched to retching. He and Black Bat stepped back instantly as soon as she went running to the end of the roof and vomited violently. 

They stood there with her as the young heroine spiralled in that betrayal, that… violation of herself. 

After she eventually settled down, Robin knelt next to her, taking one of her hands gently to his mouth for a kiss.

"Angel, huh?" Ladybug sniffled and smiled up at him. "I- I take it you're Damian. Cat's out of the bag now."

The two shared a shaky laugh, before hugging each other tightly, Ladybug still shivering.

"I guess I won't have to worry about protecting you, if an akuma broke out, or you were kidnapped." She whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder, her face buried into his neck. He was so warm, despite the cold winter air.

"And I know you can definitely handle yourself." Robin murmured back, laughing to himself as he held her tighter. He kissed her forehead ever so softly, realizing quickly that Batman, Red Robin, and Black Bat were still watching them.

"So, I guess this is another new superhero couple, huh?" Black Bat spoke up, grinning as she crossed her arms. "Welp, since she knows you, Damian, I'm pretty sure she can figure out that the Wayne family is the Bat family."

"... I guess my boyfriend is Robin." Ladybug let out a shaky giggle, only for Robin's arms to tighten a bit around her. She glanced up at him and  gave a smile. "Well… I've always wanted to get a good look at Gotham. Care to show me around?"

Robin knew exactly what she really wanted. She wanted away from this roof, away from that hotel. She'd probably never feel secure there again, knowing what had been happening. 

"Fine, but Ladybug, tomorrow you're coming to the Manor, and we're gonna see what you're made of." Black Bat called over, a broad grin on her face. "A bit of sparring, sans powers and weapons, of course. Maybe we'll put the mangy cat's picture on a sandbag and you can go to town with a knife."

"I'd like that. The sparring, I mean." Ladybug grinned, then smiled when Robin took her hand. Without another word, the two of them grappled off into the Gotham night.

They made their way around Gotham, leaping from building to building, watching the people below, walking without a care in the busy streets.

"This place is probably a lot more violent than what I'm used to." Ladybug spoke up as she watched a guy try to steal a woman's purse, only for him to get throat punched, and to fall onto the sidewalk in pain as the woman strode away.

"I'd show you the ropes." Robin offered quickly, earning a smile from her. He returned it, then  glanced up at the clock tower closest to them. "Well… I should get you back, shouldn't I?"

"Wanna race?" Ladybug blurted, her cheeks going crimson as her hand tightly gripped her yo-yo.

"I bet at can beat you, Ladybug." 

Then they were off. Robin had to admit, she had some amazing agility. The way she moved… It was so graceful, so natural. Every time he had seen Marinette, he had seen the gracefulness in her.

It was part of what he loved about her.

When that thought entered his head, his grapple nearly slid from his hand, but he held on tight as they swung over a busy intersection. He was in love, in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He just hoped when he did end up telling her, he didn't scare her away.

The two of them landed in the alleyway beside Marinette's hotel in silence, before Marinette dropped her transformation.

"I guess I win." Marinette giggled, before turning her back to Damian as he changed out of his costume and into some civilian clothes he always kept with him. 

"... Marinette, how old were you when you became a hero?" Damian murmured, taking her hand to turn her towards him once he was finished.

He could see the hesitation in her eyes, but gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I became Ladybug when I was fourteen. I… I ended up having to become the Guardian when I was fifteen." Marinette whispered as they strode towards the front of the hotel, her hand gripping his tightly, their fingers lacing. Her mind instantly went to the Miraculous box tucked into a carefully hidden compartment in her luggage. With a bit of help from Trixx, she had managed to sneak it passed the airport security easily enough.

"That's very you. But I guess I was younger when I started training to take over the League of Assassins." Damian frowned a bit, missing Marinette's shocked look.

"Assassins?" Her brows drew together as she gave his hand a small squeeze to get his attention. "What do you mean?"

"I was raised by my mother for a short while, trained me to be an assassin." He sighed softly, before guiding her over to a nearby bench, beginning to tell her in detail everything about his childhood, about his mother, his grandfather, and his title as Prince of Assassins.

"Prince, hm?" A slow smirk spread across Marinette's face as she leaned close, their noses touching now. "I guess that makes you my prince, hm?"

"I suppose so." Damian returned the smirk, before cupping her face in his hands.

Marinette closed her eyes, loving how those big, strong, warm hands of his framed her face. She didn't object when he leaned closer, no, she leaned up and met him halfway, their lips meeting.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as a needy little whimper left her. The kiss deepened as Damian wrapped his arms around her waist, and held Marinette against his heart.

Across the street, on the roof, clawed hands curled into fists and green eyes blazed with fury.

Taglist:

@realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea

#Seeing Green #maribat #daminette #ml x dc

[simply-ellas-stuff]

My thoughts on Zack Snyder's Justice League because I watched it

The opening sequence, bc even tho the repeated scream audio was stuipid this opening was better

The new meeting between batman and Aquaman - that drawing on the wall in the og was unnecessary

Diana's extra badassery

The design of Stephen Wolf, because now he actually looks scaryish

The Queens emotions about losing her sisters of Themyscira - QUEENS DON'T JUST SEND THEIR PEOPLE INTO BATTLE EMOTIONLESSLY THESE SCENES WERE NEEDED - FUCK

THE BIGGER WITH IN THEMYSCIRA WHY THE FUCK DID THEY CUT THAT OUT?! - oh right, its because the previous director is sexist as fuck,

Stephen Wolf's Daddy Issues because that's fucking hilarious

Bruce explaining his want to find everyone bc of his promise

The close up on the fly things because that actually made it scary

THE FUCKING LIGHTING CEREMONY IN THEMESCERIA HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT

Diana's extra badassery after getting the Arrow because WHY THE FUCK WAS THAT CUT?! This explains SO MUCH about how Diana knows SO MUCH about a time she wasn't alive in and I have NO FUCKING CLUE why it was cut!?

Arthur Curry is a Stripper - Confirmed!

Arthur and his trainer talking, but idfk why they kept the bubble thing Although I do like that they clarify that it's not just Mera who can do that bubble thingy

The scene between Stephen Wolf and the stone-wall dude person was cool and it explained why Stephen Wolf was so desperate

Zeus, Ares, and Artemis prepped for battle along with Poseidon in the flashback was FUCKING AWESOME!!! Diana's Aunt as well, the shows of the Green Lanterns, and the ring returning to the planet [Although they should've named Artemis, bc she can easily be mistaken for Athena - Also; Artemis' roman equivalent in the goddess Diana ]

Darkseid being in the flashback, which explains a lot

The Gods vs Darkseid was FUCKING AWESOME

Barry's awkward rambling after running into Iris

ALSO IRIS FUCKING WEST!!!

The Big Belly Burger Reference, nicely done

My dad says Iris' car is beautiful

BARRY SAVED IRIS BITCHES

The slow-mo crash gave me anxiety

My dad says, "I know you got all the time in the world but c'mon this is ridiculous" about that scene then "That beautiful car..."

THE SCENE WITH STEPHEN WOLF AND THE ALTLANTIAN MAKES EVERYTHING MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK DID STEPHEN WOLF KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE MOTHER BOX IN ATLANTIS

Do. Not. Make. Diana. And. Bruce. Romantic. Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

The use of slow-mo is kind of redundant

Victor being fucking AMAZING even tho he's getting in trouble at school

Victor and Mama's discussion gives some life to the 2-Dlike Cyborg from the og movie, WHY THE FUCK WAS IT CUT?!

Victor's inner-world where he's still fully human

Barry being sarcastic as fuck towards his father lmfao

"Very attractive Jewish boy"

The reference to Grodd YAAAAAAAS

I still hate that Barry's lightning is blue and not red

The explanation of the Speedforce and Snacks

"What are your super powers again?" "I'm Rich" Still one of the best lines

I love Diana's shirt in the scene with Alfred

"Looks like you have a date, Ms. Prince" lmfao - Unless his name is Steve, I doubt it

I feel like Victor and Diana would be a good brother/sister duo, ngl

Burying the fucking box at your mothers grave was the stupidest shit I have ever fucking seen Victor.

COMMISIONER GORDON HELL YES

Barry's utter fail at being normal around Diana

The underwater click-like dolphin speak was cool, but still kinda dumb knowing that later Aquaman speaks underwater just fine - ngl

Nice Liquidkinetics, Mera. Amber you're still a cunt.

Also, Mera says her parents died - Wasn't her father alive in Aquaman??

Victor seeing the bat-signal explains how he knew how to find them, honest

The badass entry of Bruce, Diana, and Barry makes me laugh

Barry is far too close to Bruce

Victor scared Barry LMFAOOOO

If Victor's father is the head of STAR Labs where the fuck is Harrison Wells?????

THEY LEFT BARRY BEHIND, ASSHOLES

Diana's annoyance at Barry running ahead is such a Mom thing

Stephen using the bug thing makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE

Diana trying to make a plan and it getting ruined fits with the exasperated Mom theme she's got going on.

THE SONG HEN DIANA GOES AGAINST STEPHEN WOLF, THE FUCKING VOCALS ALONG MAKE ME HYPE AS SHIIIIIIIIT

"I Belong To No One" I FUCKING LOVE IT

HEEEEEEEEELL of a push Barry lmfaooo

"Thank you Alfred" "Don't mention it" Mans is bored of your shit

"Sword Lady" LMFAOOOOOOO

Diana's x-move thing against Stephen Wolf YAAAAAAAAS BITCH

Diana saving Barry's ass - Accurate!

Victor taking over the Crawler makes more sense this way, honest

OKAY YOU AN ACTUALLY SEE AQUAMAN IN THE WATER AND IT MAKES IT MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE

That jump onto the crawler was smooth as fuck Diana!

Stephen Wolf getting visions from the boxes also explains a lot about some shit

"I know the requirements, I wrote them" Suuuuuuubtle lmfaoo

Victor brining the box them also fits better

Why is this Stone looking mother fucker speaking Latin?

Hello Darkseid, you look particularly dramatic this evening

Victor's explaining how he knows about the box makes a lot of sense, why was this cut again??

Actually explaining the fucking Mother Box was Helpful

Mrs. Kent and Lois having a heart to heart holy shiiiit

Martha talking about how Clark's death was drowned out by Superman's - wooow

WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH MARTHA'S EYES IS THAT J'ONN J'ONZZ?! THATS THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER HOLY FUCK IT'S J'ONN J'ONZZ

Ironic that Ezra-Flash's hero is Superman while Grant Gustin's hero is superman lmfao

Diana and Arthur chatting was cute, the quote was awesome and the Atlantians totally copped that quote from the Amazonians

Alfred being a sarcastic fuck is my favorite

Alfred being the voice of reason, as always

Arthur helping Barry pick a hat is AMAZING

Diana telling the boys to change, mom or big sister?? lmfaoo

Barry's social awkwardness gives me second hand embarrassment

This little infiltration arc makes SO MUCH more fucking sense

Every one being suited up and triggering the alarm is amazing

Mr. Stone fucking trusting his son is my faaaaaavorite

THE SUITS ACTIVATED AND CAME OUT WHEN CLARK WAS MOVED PAST THEM DUDE WTF

IS LOIS PREGNANT?!?!?!

Barry looks like he's about to throw up

BARRY HAS ALREADY TIME TRAVELLED THAT LINE SHOULDVE BEEN KEPT IN

Arthur being antsy about not doing the resurrection makes so much sense

VICTOR SEEING A POSSIBLE FUTURE IS THE BEST SHIT

I love vision-Diana's Norse burial

EVIL VISION-SUPERMAN DUDE CMON

THE MISUNDERSTANDING MAKES THIS WORSE AND BETTER AT THE SAME TIME

HE REVERSED TIME WHEN HE RESURRECTED SUPERMAN WHAAAAAAAAT

The Military arriving was a sensible addition

The fancy ass dramatic ass arrival of Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and Cyborg when Superman gets to the monument is hilarious

Victor loosing control is the woooooorst

The Lasso of Truth almost got through to him but he's a stubborn fuck

Superman functioning in Flashtime is something I will never understand

Yeah lets shoot at the guy whose indestructible, right

"you should probably move" LMFAOOOO

Batman v. Superman part 2 insert eye roll here

headbutts like children - and that's cheating on the playground Clark.

Heat vision makes so much more sense than "do you bleed?"

Lois coming in cluuuuutch

I like Lois' appearance better than Alfred bringing her, it fits Lois better

Arthur and Barry now have rivalry lmfaooo

Mr. Stone being obsessed with the mother box is annoying as fuck

Mr. Stone is an idiot and he should've fucking left the box alone

That was a horrible death why was that necessary?!

Arthur being a pessimist in this movie is honestly hilarious, tho why is he anti-love??

Barry being surprised at Batman's richness is never not funny

"I'll take that as a yes" okay Clark, don't show off

IS LOIS PREGNANT OR NOT?!

"Its really me Ma" Best scene of the whole fucking movie

Barry and Arthur heart-to -heart "I thought you didn't car" "I never said that" BUILD THIS FRIENDSHIP

BRUCE TELLS DIANA OF THE VISION

Bruce talking about faith never bodes well

THE QUEEN LOOKS BEAUTIFUL

"uh with the power of love" "Barry" LMFAOOOOOO

THE KRYPTONIAN SUITS LOOK AMAZING

Since when does Superman have Geokinesis??

I LOVE HOW BOTH OF HIS FATHERS ARE TALKING TO HIM I FUCKING LOVE IT

THE SUIT UP SCENE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME IT LOOKS AWESOME

"just have to knock a little louder" Well, that's one way to knock Bruce

Nice crash boy

Straight up sounded like "Loud and queer" lmfaoooo

Diana leading the teeeeeeeaaaam Hell Yes!

I do miss the "I think we're all gonna die" lasso-Arthur scene tho. it was stupid - but funny.

DIANA COMING IN FOR THAT SLICE AND DICE BAYBEEEEY

THE TEAM SHOOOOT YES totally taken from Marvel but fuck did it look good

"you really are out of your mind" says the idiot who talks to fish

"not done yet" vs "your welcome" I like the second one better

Glorious hair Arthur lmfaoo

Fucking chair eject

NICE SHISH-KA-BOB ARTHUR FUCK

Alfred doesn't even fucking blink when Clark arrives

ARTHURS TRIDENT DOES THE WAVY THING ON LAND TOO BROOOO

Oh yeah, step back for the demi-god princess

DONT PISS OFF DIANA AND DO NOT USE HER FAMILY TO FUCK WITH HER IT NEVER ENDS WELL

The familiar flash buildup power ring will never not make me happy

Daaaaaayum Diana!!

Nice catch Arthur

Diana knows her mother and sisters are alive bc they sent the arrow to her, so why is he even trying it??

NICE SAVE SUPERMAN!!

"Not impressed" Smooooooth

THAT FINAL BATTLE IS FUCKING AWESOME

TIME TRAVEL

BADASS DIANA WITH THAT DEPCAPITATION

You sent Today at 5:44 PM

Them all standing there was straight up "Fuck with us, I dare you"

The epilogue was great but that dream was confusing, are we doing Alt-universe shit??

MARTIAN MOTHER FUCKING MANHUNTER BITCHEEEEEEEEEEZZ

IS LOIS PREGNANT OR NOT?!

#Justice League #Justice League Snyder Cut #Snyder Cut

[poppyseed799]

Manhunt au trash

Cuz I can only rlly express things thru my art but I can’t seem to get myself to draw so I’ll just type trash about the AU cuz I feel like it. Mainly stuff about the characters cuz they and their relationships are kinda different, it’s kinda like I just made characters based off these dudes lmao

- Dream and Sapnap were childhood friends. It didn’t matter that Sapnap had no idea what the heck Dream was. But one day, Sapnap disappeared...

- Later Dream became friends with George, an inventor. George would create fun inventions for them to mess around with. They liked to fight the Enderdragon together (obviously Dream carries lmao) and sometimes would even try to beat it with whatever weird invention George made.

- After the first manhunt (NOT a friendly game. A lot of AUs make it like that which is valid, but in this au the hunting is serious business) Dream and George stopped hanging out, after some arguing. George continued to use his tracker compass invention to try to stop Dream from beating the Enderdragon, and Dream got upset enough to try hunting George too.

- They’re upset at each other but still miss their good times together... very sad. But every time they see each other they get scared because they’re usually out to kill each other, so they never talk about it and instead grow further and further apart.

- AND NOW LETS GO SEE SAPNAP AGAIN! He’s become a wanted criminal since he disappeared. Sneaking into people’s speedruns and killing them. Don’t worry, after doing it to Dream he’s better. He has a lot going on in this AU... he’s a silly boy but he’s also very serious and feels guilty a lot. He’s a lot more positive than any other hunter that Dream needs to be stopped.

- now let’s look at BadBoyHalo yayy. He comes from a very different place. We don’t talk about where he ORIGINALLY came from, but the second place he lived had Skeppy and a6d and Zelk and all those guys. Yeah they exist in this AU but only for bbh’s backstory lmao. And yes, this place is still far from the place Dream is.

- Dream has the power to visit people in their dreams, and that’s how he met Bad. They became friends. This is after a few manhunts happen. Dream looked for a new friend cuz he was lonely since George and Sapnap didn’t trust him anymore.

- Bad thought that what George was doing was wrong, and went to kill him. After doing so, George convinced Bad that Dream was actually the one he couldn’t trust. It took a while but eventually Bad was no longer on Dream’s side. Rip Dream is even lonelier now.

- Honestly Dream’s best option for a friend at this point is probably Illumina. He also exists in this AU cuz he’s in a manhunt. There’s nothing super serious happening in that one tho. Just a fellow world record speedrunner getting curious about the now famous manhunts Dream is part of. Just wait for Technoblade to join this AU so he can steal Dream’s clout-

- Dream, when you get to know him, is a pretty chill guy. However, he’s become rather scary. Outside of manhunts he acts friendly to everyone, but even strangers can feel the dangerous, scary, and even lonely aura he gives off. Everyone avoids him, and he’s used to it.

- George is. Well. I don’t really need to describe his personality cuz not much is different. He’s pretty focused on his inventions though, and isn’t really used to having others around, especially not when they’re being nice to him. He thinks it’s weird (this world they live in is a little hostile and not many people trust others).

- I already described Sapnap earlier. Because of his status as a criminal with a bounty on his head, he doesn’t go out much, and only sticks by people he trusts. He likes having friends, but people can get on his nerves sometimes...

- Bad is. Well. He’s certainly different from the others. His level of politeness is very rare in this world, and it throws everyone off. However, he’s rather violent. Which really throws everyone off. He would brutally murder you and then offer you a muffin when you respawn, smiling the whole time. He’s also part enderman, and since he’s barely met any regular humans before, he asks George and Sapnap TONS of stupid questions about humans. You can NOT convince Bad that Human isn’t a language. He asks the other two hunters to say things in Human all the time.

#minecraft manhunt #manhunt au #dream team #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #badboyhalo #bbh #did i ever even explain the plot? i threw random bits of it in here. feel free to ask cuz im a mess.

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting! 

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet. 

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy 

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

 Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????) 

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST? 

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot? 

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder: 

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining) 

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

[t4tbruharvey]

ok lots of asks incoming jdhjs i just picked random-ish numbers and names but yeah anyway!! hope you're having a good night :)

past (for q): 3, 6, 8; present (for gabi): 8, 9, 12; and future (for perlah): 2, 7, 8

omg omg omg ok. cool. ok. thank youuuuu

PAST: q

3 - describe their family. who raised them, and who had the most impact on them? did they have any siblings? who were they closest to? what were the family dynamics like?

q is the only child in a fairly affluent family - rich enough to send hir to a boarding school, where ze spent most of their time with ellie, the only other queer kid that ze knew of. hir parents are quite distant, and very traditional, constantly emulating the looks and values of old money folks, which unfortunately meant that for all of hir teenage years, q's only confidante was ellie. school was an extremely isolating experience for her because ze was closeted everywhere, and ze was in the girls' dorm while ellie was in the boys' dorm, so ze only saw her in class/leisure hours, and ze tended to feel really lonely at night.

6 - did the location they grew up in affect them significantly? do they still go there?

ze has literally no love for that place. it's a pretty joyless area, no matter how many brownstones they pass or how many trees are planted on the streets. wrought iron and spring leaves can't make a place feel like somewhere people live, which is why q hasn't been back there since ze left home at 18.

8 - what was their childhood/teenage bedroom like?

q's bedroom at home was COVERED in whatever heavy metal posters they could find in innercity record shops, apart from one wall, on which ze put up paper before proceeding to write all over it; diagrams, homework equations, bad poetry, song lyrics, swear words, you name it. it was very much a typical 'rebellious teen' bedroom, partly to piss of hir parents and partly to make hir feel more like hirself when ze was in there. none of that was present in their dorm, though. that had white walls and sensible carpeting and a desk, and that was it.

PRESENT: gabi

8 - what hobby or pastime of theirs do they consider most important to them and why?

bullet journalling. he genuinely does pride himself on organisation, and this is something that actively encourages it, as well as being an outlet for the impulse to put everything in order that doesn't involve wrecking the apartment or committing a crime.

9 - what kind of place do they live in?

he lives in a really really nice apartment on the fourth floor of a building that was retrofitted in the 70s. you know it's a nice apartment because, despite rent being extremely low citywide, they had to get a fourth roommate to cover the rent. he shares a room with cora, which is mostly pretty dark (black and grey sheets, gothic full-length mirror on the black closet), with his desk being the most colourful thing in the room: it's covered in different brands of brush pen, post it notes arranged in a grid on the wall, a gantt chart printed out and stuck to the side of things he has coming up, a t shirt he's been drawing a fractal on for a week now, shit like that.

the only other room gabi frequents is the kitchen, which is mint green with white tiles and mismatched wooden furniture. it's a pretty standard kitchen in terms of mess levels, and gabi is under no circumstances allowed to change the order of anything in there or cora will go ballistic. she's the one who uses the spices most, so it's only fair she gets to decide how they're arranged. (no system of any kind other than 'vibes')

12 - if someone mentioned their name to someone else, what would they immediately think of (i.e. defining characteristic, appearance- or personality-wise)?

when he was in school, it probably would have been 'size', because he was built like if lady dimitrescu went to high school and had a very unremarkable bob. currently, however, it's definitely the hair, which consists of a raspberry-pink grown out mullet and turquoise fringe. personality wise it's that he's gives off the same vibe as a violin bow that's been tightened to the point where it's just about to snap, but hasn't snapped yet.

FUTURE: perlah

2 - are they content with their future situation? is there anything they would change?

i'll be honest: she probably wouldn't be too pleased she's dead. or that she's being used as a martyr, or that her death is justifying a manhunt for cora.

7 - are their friends still a part of their life? are there people they are no longer in touch with, or newly important people?

well, in the most literal sense, no. in a more figurative sense then somewhat? everyone assumes katy is 'the girlfriend' and that gabi was manipulated by cora, and that cora was scheming to kill perlah and take her money or something all along. so they're all involved in the news coverage, and katy has finally met perlah's parents, who held her hands and sobbed a lot.

8 - would they become a mentor figure for anyone?

no, unfortunately. despite exuding grace and easy charm, perlah wasn't a role model for anybody, unless it's to be used as a cautionary tale about mingling with the criminals in the masses.

#ty!!!!!!! this was fun sorry it's all so long!!!! ily <333

[buzzdixonwriter]

Federal Operator 99 review

“Sophistication” isn’t a word one hears applied to serials very often.  Federal Operator 99 aims for sophistication and surprisingly hits the mark more often than not. 

It’s not a uniformly smooth attempt and the rough spots are noticeable, but for the least expensive of Republic’s three serials in 1945 (and lordy, were Manhunt Of Mystery Island and The Purple Monster Strikes inexpensive!) Federal Operator 99 is solid entertainment. 

Let’s start with the script, often the least sophisticated element of a serial. This time instead of Wild West adventures or sci-fi thrills Republic writers Albert DeMond, Basil Dickey, Jesse Duffy, and Joseph Poland under the guidance of studio story editor Ronald Davidson focused instead on a very human scale criminal enterprise, led by a colorful / complex / conflicted crime lord, Jim Belmont (George J. Lewis) with a penchant for fine art and piano concertos. 

Belmont is no typical Republic supervillain but a very human — albeit murderously eccentric — criminal. All of his plots are plausible and doable. Conquer the world? Hell, no.  Steal jewels then double cross when paid a ransom?  Oh, yeah. 

That alone is a refreshing change of pace for a serial of this era. 

His opposite number is our eponymous Federal Operator 99, Jerry Blake (Marten Lamont).  Serial leads (other than costumed heroes) tend to be played as just regular folks; the audience appeal is that we like to think we would be just as heroic under similar circumstances.

99, in contrast, is presented as debonair and dashing, super competent and equally as cunning as his quarry, and speaking with a faint English accent.  It’s not much of an exaggeration to say he’s a prototype of another JB with a number:  007. 

And speaking of JBs, notice how both hero and villain share the same initials as well as equal expertise in their respective fields, and a taste for the finer things in life. “Avoid giving your characters similar names” is one of the fundamental rules of genre fiction, and for Davidson’s tribe of scribes to give both the same initials indicates they were quite consciously trying to link the two on some level. 

One of the best things about this serial is 99 is not a reactive hero, waiting for Belmont to strike so he can pursue him, but is actively trying to trick Belmont and lure him out into the open where Blake’s team can arrest him. 

Despite this, Lamont comes across as a rather lacklustre leading man, while Lewis’ screen charisma is so strong we’re disconcerted to find ourselves actually rooting for him at numerous points in the story! Republic missed a bet by not swapping their two leads; it would have made for a far more dynamic story line.  

The script doesn’t help much, either.  While it’s always hard to tell who wrote what parts of any serial, one of the writers here clearly had a much better grasp on what they were trying to achieve and it reflects in good dialog and strong scenes. 

Other writers give us the equivalent of juvenilia with their unimaginative flat declarative sentences, the single biggest drawback of this serial. 

While she ended up a Republic Western heroine under both this name and Adriana Booth, Lorna Gray as Rita Parker is two lethal steps up from the typical supporting villainess.  She’s not decorative arm candy but a willing and ready partner to Belmont’s crimes.  

Of her counterpart among the good guys, let’s be generous and say Helen Talbot as Joyce Kingston is fetchingly cute and enunciates all her lines quite clearly. It’s not uncommon for serial stars, especially the ladies, to be tied up at some point in the proceedings but Ms Talbot is restrained so often and in such a wide variety that it’s clear somebody in the production had an affinity for this sort of thing.  She also spends an inordinate amount of time being driven about in the trunk of various automobiles. 

You do the best with what you’ve got and I’ll leave it to the reader to decide if this applies to Ms Talbot or the production. 

The automobiles bring up an interesting point re Federal Operator 99’s meager budget. The serial uses a lot of stock footage and to disguise the fact some of it is well over a decade old, the script draws attention to certain cars being earlier models and not the more contemporary ones seen elsewhere. 

Likewise, nobody changes clothes unless it’s to match stock footage; this is especially noticeable for Gray and Talbot. 

Federal Operator 99 has a very lean look to it, past the opening chapters (typically used to sell the serial to theaters) there’s never more than four characters on camera at any time. Those familiar with Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley will spot many landmarks and familiar streets. The production does enjoy a bigger feel than other Republic serials of the era, and I think this is because they managed to use a number of sets left standing after feature films finished production.  

Where the serial really shines is in the direction. As typical of the era, more than one director handled that chore.  Usually studios had one director for dialog scenes and another for action, or one for interiors and another for exteriors, but Federal Operator 99 has three (!):  Wallace Grissell, a film editor who became a director presumably because he knew how to intercut stock footage well; the legendary Spencer Gordon Bennet, who directed more serials than anyone; and Yakima “Just stay in the chariot and we’ll see you win the race, Chuck” Canutt, who handled the action scenes and boy, howdy! did somebody make the right call there!  Federal Operator 99 is crammed with chair splintering / table flipping action from crotch to sternum, Canutt’s philosophy being no self respecting hero should ever walk through a door when he can dive headfirst through a window, gun blazing. 

If I didn’t know better, I’d think chapter four was originally shot in 3D based on the amazing number of objects and human bodies Canutt sends hurtling straight at the camera. 

The cliffhangers are good, better than most comparable serials, and there’s nary a cheater in the bunch. The Lydecker brothers round things off with a superlative display of exploding miniatures. 

Serials are noted for their casual use of violence, but Federal Operator 99 is significantly more gruesome than most. 99 meets Kingston — elaborately bound and gagged in a closet, no less — right after shooting and killing one of Belmont’s men; the two then have a cheery conversation about what to do next despite the fact there’s a corpse laying literally at their feet!  Various underlings and innocent bystanders get shot in the back or stomach, Belmont is freed in an expertly staged train rescue where a cohort as an afterthought casually shoots and kills the escorting agent, a woman screams off camera as Parker tortures her with a cigarette lighter, a criminal dies twitching under a hail of bullets, one bloodied mortally wounded minion takes a minute to heroically crawl to a detonator because how else are we going to get a satisfying Lydecker ka-boom?, and Belmont himself makes his on camera hard goodbye by plunging four stories to solid concrete.  

The gruesomeness brings up two plot points that raise questions for me:  First Belmont has a phone conversation with an unseen spy in Washington then discusses with his cohorts the spy by name and how vital he is to their organization…and we never reference said spy again; next Belmont mentions four members of his former partner‘s gang by their names, gives a brief run down on each, mentions how they might know where the hidden loot from a bullion robbery is…and in the next cut Blake is reading a newspaper story about how the four were brutally tortured and mutilated before being executed gangland style. 

Say wha — ?  I’m guessing Federal Operator 99 was originally conceived as a 15 chapter serial only to be truncated to 12 in preproduction (Manhunt Of Mystery Island and The Purple Monster Strikes were Republic’s last two 15 chapter serials, everything after that was either 12 or 13 chapters). Rather than waste more time and money rewriting the script, they just whacked out three chapters worth of material but didn’t change the dialog. 

The gruesomeness of Federal Operator 99, and its more realistic scale and script make me wonder if it didn’t start life as a development for a Dick Tracy or Rex Barton serial; the format certainly fits both. 

Not the best serial Republic ever made, but better than most. 

 © Buzz Dixon 

#serial #Republic Studios #movies #B-movies

[starkerforlife6969]

Jealousy’s a Dancer - starker/spidershield, ft creepy Norman

hello you fucking ray of sunshine, can you write one where norman osborne goes to some big ballet production where Peter is dancing (the nutcracker? it's christmas?) and literally just falls in love with my boo and starts stalking him but peter doesn't want to worry anyone and so the tony&gang are so fkn jealous and possessive in diff ways and then norman SNATCHES MY BABE and gets bruised up and hurt in the process and they raise HELL... OR (same anon, ran out of space bc i love everything you write and you scratch my NEED for soft, sweet adorable peter) you can just make it a drabble and make it solely starker or steve/peter or whatever is easiest for you. omfg i love you. i'm gonna go crawl back to hell; the tour bus is leaving without me

This is the nicest way anyone has ever asked for a story ever??? So, um, I love you. Let’s get all sorts of married. And I hope this doesn’t disappoint!

TW: mentions of violence, kidnapping, jealousy, obsession. Mafia Boss Tony and Body Guard Steve, Ballerina Peter

Tony’s face is creased with worry and regret, as he draws Peter into his arms and kisses him firmly on the forehead. “I’m so sorry I won’t make it, sweetheart,” he whispers, and Peter smiles, and surges onto his tiptoes and kisses Tony right on the nose.

“Daddy,” he murmurs sweetly, shaking his head. “It’s okay, really. Steve’s coming and ’m on for five nights, you can-“

“But I’m missing opening night.” Tony groans, “and you’ve been working so hard, and I…” he shakes his head angrily, and there’s murder in his eyes. “I’m gonna kill whoever it was that blew up our shipment, baby. Because they’ve interfered with you and I never tolerate that.”

Peter wants to urge his boyfriend not to kill anyone, but really, there’s no convincing Tony when he’s this upset. So, instead, he peppers kisses onto Tony’s beard until the older man huffs a fond laugh and hoists Peter up into a hug.

“You’re going to be superb,” Tony insists, and he smells of gunpowder and and expensive fabric. It’s a smell Peter associates with safety and comfort, and he nuzzles in closer. “You give me the names of anyone who doesn’t give you a standing ovation and I’ll hunt them down.”

Peter giggles at that and promises for the umpteenth time that it’s really, really okay, before Tony finally goes to sort out business.

Opening night is tomorrow, and he’s still a little jittery. But he’s excited, and he can’t wait, and he hopes the reviews are good and-

The front door opens and for a second Peter thinks Tony’s come back and decided to leave the manhunting for another night- but it’s Steve, wrapped up warm from the cold, winter air.

“Steve!” Peter squeals delightedly, bounding into his arms, and Steve chuckles, catching him easily and kissing him gently on the lips. “You just missed Tony!”

“Shit, really?” Steve frowns, setting Peter down gently and unwinding his scarf. “I have to talk to him- something big’s come up- Dubroveski’s doubled his men, I have to go with him.”

Peter nods worriedly, following on his heels as Steve heads for the bedroom. “Do you want me to call him for you or…?”

Steve shakes his head distractedly. “No, no, baby, don’t worry. I’ll pack a bag real quick and catch up with him at the airport.” 

Peter nods, and sits on the bed as Steve packs. It then occurs to him that-

“Oh!” He gasps, a little sadly, and Steve’s head snaps up worriedly. “Oh- it’s nothing, really,” he hurries, but those blue eyes are relentless, so Peter’s shoulders slump a little and he blushes. “It’s silly, really, I know how important your work is but- it’s opening night tomorrow and-“

“Shit.” Steve whispers, closing his eyes in frustration. He immediately abandons his bags and comes to sit by Peter on the bed. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry. It shouldn��t have slipped my mind. You know what, I’ll have Clint tail Tony instead and-“

“No, no!” Peter insists worriedly, because Steve is the best bodyguard and Peter couldn’t handle it if something happened to Tony because Peter had been selfish. “You have to go, it’s fine! You can both come to one of the other nights.”

Steve frowns, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, scooping Peter up and onto his lap. “I’m sorry, doll, really.”

Peter smiles warmly, “I know you are. Now come on, if you don’t pack Tony one of his Armani suits he’s gunna be angry that he couldn’t do his fashion power play.”

Steve snorts at that. “It is his go to move.”

*** Norman normally doesn’t care for the ballet.

If anything, he’s annoyed that he’s here. Some bullshit tickets were purchased for Oscorp’s charity fundraiser and here he is, in one of the most expensive seats, watching the Nutcracker.

It’s a cliché of a Christmas ballet and he’s wondering whether he can get away with sleeping through it when-

The boy walks on.

He’s beautiful. One of the most beautiful young men Norman has ever seen. He can’t be older than 21 and his costume is fitted, leaving nothing to the imagination, and he’s cloaked in pink glitter and salmon silk and Norman coils his hands into fists and wants.

Suddenly, he’s very grateful for his vantage point, and for the viewing glasses he has. Suddenly, he’s invested.

The boy is the epitome of grace and elegance as he moves. Technically perfect and wonderfully in tune with the music. Norman was forced to see a lot of ballet performances as a boy and he knows that there’s no wonder this boy was cast as Clara. He’s perfect.

The look on his face when the Nutcracker falls, how he falls to his knees, lips parted in a soundless gasp of pain, how he leaps into the air like he weighs less than a feather-

It makes Norman dizzy with desire. How that supple body would feel writhing under his hands, what the boy’s voice sounds like- no doubt, as pretty as him.

When the boy’s not on stage, Norman leafs through the pamphlet. Peter Parker as Clara. Peter Parker. A pretty name for a pretty boy.

He wants to suck hickies into that perfect, marble skin.

The hours pass by like minutes, and when the curtain falls, he’s up on his feet just like everyone else, but he’s only applauding one person.

And it’s the boy who outshone all the dancing dolls and snowflakes and soldiers.

He’s applauding Peter Parker.

* Because he’s Norman Osborn, billionaire and tech-tycoon, it’s easy to get backstage, and what surprises him is the lack of anyone at Peter’s dressing room door.

No girlfriend, then? No boyfriend? People are clearly blind.

Norman knocks, checks his perfectly tailored suit, and is still winded when Peter opens the door.

This close he can see everything. The smattered of freckles across the boy’s dainty nose. The faint dimples as he smiles. The flushed skin with a few strands of oaky, chestnut hair stuck to his forehead. He’s dainty, so small and slender, and he smells like perfume and flowers. The scent is intoxicating.

“Hi?” Peter smiles warmly, looking at him.

“Peter,” Norman grins, extending his hand. “I’m Norman Osborne. I just wanted to stop by and say that you were- are- absolutely remarkable. An exquisite dancer .The true stand out of the company.”

“Mr Osborne?” Peter repeats, aghast. “From Oscorp Industries?”

Norman grins; sharp and proud. “The very same.”

And then the compliment seems to sink in, and the boy goes an even more delicious shade of pink, and he’s inviting Norman into his dressing room. “Thank you so much- I mean- everyone was amazing though. I mean, Harlequin’s dance? I never could have done that in a thousand years, Ronda is amazing-“

“You’re too modest,” Norman cuts him off, even though he’d quite like to listen to the lovely lilt of the boy’s voice for hours. “Forgive me for being too bold, but could I take you out for a drink to celebrate? Perhaps even dinner? You must be starving after a performance like that.”

Peter flushes again, it goes right down his neck. “Mr Osbourne, you’re too kind, really, but you don’t have to-“

“It would be my pleasure.”

Peter smiles, but his eyes are slightly hesitant. They’re lovely eyes. Like melted amber and caught sunlight. “I’m in a relationship, Mr Osbourne,” he says apologetically, “though I’d love to get a drink as friends? I’m not much of a wine drinker but I’ll never say no to something sweet.”

A relationship, Norman wants to roll his eyes. It can’t be much of one, if whoever it is isn’t even here. They don’t deserve a boy like Peter. They wouldn’t know what to do with those needy fingertips and desperate whimpers-

Whoever they are, they’re irrelevant. So, he plays along. “As friends, I would be thrilled.” And he offers his arm.

Like the perfect boy he is, Peter takes it.

** Peter is a vision the second night.

Tony is the first on his feet when the curtain closes, whistling and clapping so hard his palms sting. Steve’s applauding beside him- the whole crowd follow suit and get to their feet, and when the curtain rises and Tony sees his boy, he whistles loudly and throws bouquet after bouquet of blue roses onto the stage.

He’s front row, dead centre, so Peter sees him immediately and bows low and gorgeous.

God, he was perfect. Tony is going to come and watch this performance every night. Peter’s hypnotising on stage. As graceful as a snowflake, he was made to dance.

“You were incredible!” Steve gushes once they’re backstage, scooping Peter into his arms and spinning him around in the air. Peter’s still in his tutu- frilly white and fringed with silver, and he giggles with delight, before Tony reaches in to grab his boy into his arms and kiss him hard.

“Bambino, you’re perfect. Sublime. You’ve blown me away.”

Peter laughs, kissing the underside of Tony’s jaw.”I’m pretty sure those flowers will be covering the stage for ages! How many did you buy?”

“Nowhere near enough for you.” He promises, and Peter laughs- head tipping back, glitter shimmering all over his face. He’s gorgeous, when-

“Norman!” Peter beams, and Steve stiffens as someone enters. Tony turns and his eyes widen a fraction- that’ll all the response he’ll show outwardly. But inwardly, he’s furious. That’s Norman Osbourne, what the hell is Peter doing greeting him like an old friend?

Norman smiles warmly, enveloping Peter in a hug that’s far too fucking familiar- Tony’s already reaching for his gun, but Steve’s hand is gentle and warning on his elbow. Norman’s in a fucking three piece suit- deep green with streaks of velvet embroidery, and Tony’s in Tom Ford- his suit is more expensive, no doubt, but Norman’s suits him better.

When Osbourne finally looks at him, he’s smiling like he knows. It’s a tight, smug, cordial smile. “Tony Stark. What a surprise it is to see you at a place so cultured.” His eyes drift to Steve and he chuckles. “And not without protection, of course.”

“Osbourne.” Tony greets bitterly, “and what are you doing here? Preying on the souls of the young, or-“

“Guys,” Peter laughs nervously, moving to stand between them. “Tony, Steve, this is Norman. We met yesterday at opening night when he came to congratulate me and took me out for a few drinks. And Norman, this is Tony- who you already know- and Steve, my boyfriends.”

Tony smirks, mean and victorious, at Norman’s look of surprise.

“Boyfriends.” Norman repeats, still a little starstruck. “So modern.”

“Peter knows what he wants.” Steve murmurs lowly, and Norman sizes him up, before accordingly stepping back. This isn’t his arena, Tony knows. Norman may have a legitimate tech business but he has a number of goons who Tony’s run into before. Ties to the seedy underbelly of New York.

And now Peter knows him. Norman’s come along- must have done his research about Peter- knew Tony wouldn’t be here and-

“I won’t keep you.” Norman smiles, all polite and fake, “I just wanted to say you were spectacular again, Peter. We must have lunch sometime.”

“Oh sure!” Peter beams, curls tumbling into his eyes. “Text me anytime.”

“Texting.” Norman chuckles again, heading for the door. “So modern.”

* Peter is, understandably, angry when Tony bans him from ever seeing Norman again.

Steve tries not to get too involved, because he knows how quickly Tony’s jealousy can shift to anger, but Peter is yelling now, and Steve can’t bear it when they fight.

“He didn’t even know I was with you!” Peter cries, out of his outfit now, and in his warm, pink pastel pyjamas. He’s still got speckles of glitter across his freckles, but his cheeks are flushed with indignation.

Tony lets out a patient sigh. He’s still in his suit- he’s been pacing agitatedly since they got back, calling some of the others to see if Norman had been sniffing around their operation- and he leans against his oak desk and shakes his head. “Baby, you’re too trusting. He’s lying to you-“

“I’m not-“ Peter glares at him, choking a little, “I’m not an idiot, Tony, he’s not using me! He just- he just wanted to be friends-“

“He’s dangerous.” Tony growls, standing up straight. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger. You’ve known him for what, a day? And you’re already picking him over me?”

Peter gapes at him, swiping his hand viciously through his curls. “Picking him? Tony, I just don’t want you to tell me who I can and can’t see! He’s been nothing but nice to me-“

“He’s using you, Peter, don’t be so blind!” Tony yells.

Tears, crystal and sparkly, slip from Peter’s eyes and he wipes them away as fast as they appeared. Steve gets to his feet and crosses the room, pulling Peter into his arms. He gives Tony a warning look, but the brunet already looks contrite. “That’s the only reason anyone would even talk to me, right? To get to you?

“That’s not what I meant, piccolo, I just worry about you.”

Peter turns away from him, and buries his face into Steve’s chest. He hugs him tightly, rubbing his hands up and down Peter’s small frame. Steve doesn’t trust Norman either but…Norman had looked surprised to see the two of them- to learn about their relationship to Peter. Plus, Tony keeps Peter so well hidden- how could Norman have known-

Tony can’t bear it any longer, before he crosses the room in three long strides and wraps his arms around Peter too, so their boy is cuddled between them. “Let me look into it first,” he pleads quietly, “just to make sure- just to check. Peter, if something happened to you, I-“ his voice wavers uncharacteristically, “I’m not sure what I’d do. But I’m pretty sure a murderous rampage is fairly high on the list.”

Peter looks up, cracking a small smile, and threads his fingers through Tony’s. “And if you don’t find anything?” He asks, sniffling.

Tony pauses, but under Steve’s glance, he sighs. “If there’s nothing then, I won’t stop you.”

*

Try as Tony might to find something, he doesn’t.

It seems more and more likely that Norman found Peter quite by chance, which is just…furiously unlucky.

But true to his word, he doesn’t stop Peter from hanging out with him.

His jealousy gets the better of him a lot of the time. He’s a possessive bastard. Steve’s managing to be above it all, and Tony tries to listen to his advice but it’s hard.

Because all the things he loves most about Peter- his big, honest eyes, his innocence, his belief, his ability to see the best in absolutely everyone- well, it’s all the things that are allowing Norman to elbow his way in.

So far, Norman and Peter have only met up twice- Norman had magically appeared at Peter’s final night of the ballet, and they’d gone out to brunch at a small bistro up on Terrace street the next morning.

Nothing’s happening. Nothing’s happening, Tony knows that. He trusts Peter- he knows that Peter would never, ever cheat. And Peter’s so open about everything- he keeps his phone unlocked and Tony’s seen him texting over his shoulder- all the messages to Norman are polite and courteous and-

Peter is an angel.

But he’s their angel. He’s with Tony and Steve, and-

Tony is greedy. He doesn’t want their boy out with anyone else and-

“Tony,” Steve says urgently, walking into the room with a frown on his face. “Has Peter called yet? I told him to message by six, but he’s still not back.”

“He hasn’t.” Tony mutters worriedly, reaching for his phone. “Who’s he out with?”

“Norman.”

* This is all rather humiliating, if he’s honest.

His head still throbs from where it was slammed into the brickwork, and he thinks his lip is busted from the struggle he put up as he was loaded into the back of a limo.

It’s a nice limo, he thinks dully, looking up at the open roof. He can see the stars rolling by. There are plush leather seats and it smells clean.

Tony’s limo is nicer, though. It has a mini-fridge stocked with all of Peter’s favourite snacks, and there are comfy throw pillows everywhere.

“I wish it hadn’t had to be like this.” Norman says, and Peter lets out a muffled noise through the gag, to see the man looking down at him. “But he’s got you so wrapped around his finger, pet. They don’t care about you. They weren’t even there at your opening night. They let you come out with me. Besides, Stark’s involved with- dangerous operations. Someone like you shouldn’t be anywhere near his line or work.”

Peter rolls his eyes in annoyance, shimmying onto his back. His vision is still a little dizzy, but all he can think of is how smug Tony is gunna be.

Damn, Peter should have listened to him. He’s always right, in the end.

Right on cue- a horrible screeching rings out as another vehicle scrapes along the side of the limo. Norman jolts up, but Peter just curls into a ball and tucks himself as far under the seats as he can- just like Steve taught him.

The screech happens again, and then the driver swerves and they crash to a halt-

Cold wind whips in as the door is wrenched open, and Steve is there- tugging Norman out of the car, and then-

Tony’s there, and he’s scooping Peter out and removing his gag.

“You were right,” Peter gasps, even as he’s carried bridal style in Tony’s arms to their own car. “I’m sorry.” He nuzzles into his throat. “You’re right, I should have- I should have listened to you-“

“Precious boy,” Tony mutters, yanking a blanket from Clint to wrap over Peter’s shoulders as he’s buckled in. His touch is quick, but careful, his fingers dragging softly over Peter’s skin. “Never change.” And he kisses Peter’s forehead-

That’s when he notices the little trickle of blood, and his worry morphs into cold fury.

Peter tries not to smile. That’s Tony’s killing look. Norman’s going to die.

“You hurt, baby?” He hisses, hands curled into fists and Peter leans in to kiss him on the lips.

“I love you,” he says instead, and Tony kisses him back- distracted for a moment- before he goes to join Steve.

Peter can briefly hear Norman begging, but then the door is being shut and radio is being flipped on.

“Steve put some ice packs in the bag,” Clint says, “he thought you might need ‘em.”

Peter smiles, reaching for one and pressing it gingerly to his head. He thinks he might fall asleep. “Tell them I love them?” He asks drowsily, and Clint smiles warmly at him.

“Sure thing, kid. But trust me- they already know.”

#starker #peter x tony #peter x steve #mafia boss tony #body guard steve #ballet dancer peter #soft peter #protective tony #possessive tony #kidnapping #happy ending #protective steve #norman osbourne #jealousy #mentions of violence #spidershield

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Not Three, but Four

October 16, 2020

Prompt - Changing plans.

Characters - Butchy, Miles, Royce and Bentley

Notes - This is a little bit different from how I wrote it yesterday, but I’m still happy with how it came out. I’ve been rewriting this in my free time and, some parts just couldn’t come back to me at all, but I think it works out pretty well. Also, @littlemissnellie-main, Google Docs worked amazingly! It was such a relief to not have to stress over saving it every few lines today. Thank you so much for recommending it to me!

This is connected to both Tuesday’s prompt and the one titled “Keep Him Gold”, but takes place directly after “Keep Him Gold”.

While Bentley was getting ready for bed that night, Miles and Royce came up with a plan. Miles was going to call Mick and see if she could come and stay with the boys while Miles went to the park and searched for the kids that had thrown Bentley into the fountain. He knew Mick wouldn’t mind as she loved the boys as though they were practically her brothers too. While Royce didn’t particularly like the idea of Miles going out on a manhunt alone, the oldest of the Murphy brothers had assured him that, if things turned sour, he would return home.

Once Bentley emerged from the bedroom he shared with Royce, he said goodnight to Miles and gave him a hug before asking Royce if he would mind reading to him for a few minutes. “I don’t feel tired just yet,” he’d muttered as Royce stood from the couch.

“I get it, Benny,” Royce said with a smile. “Why don’t you pick out a book and I’ll be in there in a minute. I gotta say goodnight to Miles.”

Bentley gave a nod, turning and heading back into his room to find a book. Royce watched as the door slowly swung closed behind Bentley, giving Miles a sharp nod when it had fully closed. Miles rose from his seat and gave Royce a tight squeeze. “I won’t be gone long, buddy.”

“Promise?” Royce asked softly.

“Promise.” Miles took Royce by the shoulders and gave him a serious look. “I’ll try not to get hurt, okay? I know you’re worried about that.”

“When am I not worried about that?” Royce chuckled nervously. After getting his hair ruffled by his older brother, Royce headed for his bedroom and joined Bentley so they could read together.

Once he was sure that the two younger boys weren’t going to hear him, Miles took up the house phone and dialed the number for Mick, Lela and Butchy’s house. He stood there, tapping his foot impatiently as he listened to the phone dial the number and start ringing. Thankfully, it only took a few rings before someone picked up.

“Hello?” It was Butchy.

“Hey, man, is Mickie home?” Miles asked nonchalantly.

Butchy sounded slightly confused, “No, she and Lela are staying with some of the girls tonight, why?”

Miles sighed, “I need someone to watch the house and my little brothers while I go out.”

“I can do it too, you know,” Butchy said, a teasing tone in his voice. “I know how to watch a house and few kids. I’m not busy tonight, besides, I did take care of both you and Lela for a while. I have experience taking care of teenagers.”

“Well, the boys are getting ready for bed, so they won’t be much of a hassle and-”

“Miles,” Butchy interrupted. 

“Yeah?”

“Relax,” Butchy stated firmly. “I’ll be over in a few minutes, alright?”

“Thank you,” Miles sighed, hanging up the phone as soon as the conversation was over. He silently put on his flannel coat and took up the pair of steel-toe boots - a set Butchy had given him a while back that Miles had ever so affectionately named his “shit-kicker” boots. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible so he wouldn’t disturb his brothers, Miles went outside and sat on the steps of his porch, lacing up his boots and toying with the pocketknife he always carried.

Miles took in a deep breath, staring out at the pathway that led up to his house as he fiddled with the blade of his knife. He didn’t plan on using his knife unless absolutely necessary, but just having it on him felt reassuring. True to his word, Butchy strolled up the walkway not long after, his hands tucked into his pockets as he smiled over at Miles.

“Hey, little buddy,” the taller man greeted as he approached, perching himself on the same step Miles was sitting on. “How’s it going?”

Miles sighed deeply as he folded up his blade and pushed it into the pocket of his jeans, “Alright, I guess.”

Butchy placed an arm around Miles’ shoulders, pulling the smaller man to him in a side-hug. “So, where are you off to so late?”

“I’m going hunting,” Miles stated matter-of-factly.

Butchy had to laugh, the idea of Miles - the kid who couldn’t stand seeing anything injured, let alone at his own hand - going out hunting, was hilarious. The taller man lightly thumped Miles on the back a few times as he got out his laughter before realizing Miles wasn’t joining in. “What’s really going on?”

“I’ve kind of made up my mind about this,” Miles began, sending Butchy a look that the older boy couldn’t read, “but I always like asking you what your opinion is. Do you think you can help?”

“It depends.” Butchy turned, sitting sideways so he could see Miles straight-on. “I’m all ears, Miles. Give it to me straight, you know I’ll listen.”

Miles nodded, turning to face Butchy. “You know Bentley?”

“Of course, I do,” Butchy said with a playful roll of his eyes. “Lord knows I’ve spent enough time with you all. They’re my brothers too now, you know. Royce likes to sit with us and talk about books and movies and Bentley is always hanging around Seacat’s brother and drawing on other people’s napkins.”

Miles nodded with a smile. Unlike their middle brother, Bentley was very outgoing around new people and loved to show off his drawings in little ways, such as stealing people’s napkins and doodling on them. His artistic abilities only blossomed more since his arrival at Miles’ house as he made fast friends with Lake, Seacat’s younger brother who also had a talent for art. Royce had a more reserved approach, sticking to those closest to Miles and talking about his interests with only those he trusted with the information. While he had certainly opened up more since staying with Miles, the sixteen-year-old still preferred to sit at home with a book as opposed to partying. “Yeah, you’ve got them pegged, alright.”

“Alright,” Butchy drawled slowly, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about them?”

Miles took in a deep breath, “Well, earlier, Benny was hanging out with at his friend’s house and ran a little late. On his walk home, he cut through the park to save time.”

“Smart kid,” Butchy complimented with a grin.

“That’s what we told him.” Miles shook his head, running a hand through his hair before continuing, “I guess a bunch of teenagers thought otherwise.”

Butchy’s expression turned serious. Granted, he’d only known the two younger Murphy boys for a little while, but Miles had been a brother to him for years. In the short amount of time he’d known the boys, the two teenagers had become family to him just as fast as Miles had. “What happened?”

“He came home soaking wet and scared.” Miles leaned back against the railing of his porch. “He said they jumped him, roughed him up a bit and threw him in that fountain with the big ball in it.”

“Are you serious?” Butchy demanded, rising from his spot and pacing the ground in front of the steps. “It’s freezing out there, that water must’ve been like ice. You said they roughed him up too, is he okay?”

“He was pretty shaken up. He asked Royce to read to him since he wasn’t tired, but I think we all knew that he just didn’t want to be alone.” Miles watched Butchy pace for a moment before continuing, “I had him take a bath to warm up and he seemed a little better after that. I couldn’t see any cuts on him.”

“Poor kid must’ve been scared out of his mind,” Butchy huffed.

Miles nodded silently, rising from his own spot and standing in Butchy’s path. “That’s exactly why I was asking you to stay here so I can go find the punks that did this to my baby brother.”

Butchy took a deep breath, looking down at Miles with an unreadable expression. The two of them stood in silence as Butchy thought and Miles stared at him hopefully. After a while, Butchy shook his head slowly and caught Miles’ eyes. “No.”

“What?” Miles asked softly, giving Butchy a look that mixed between confusion and frustration.

Butchy took Miles’ arms in his hands, making the brunette look up at him. “Think about it, Miles. What kind of impression will that leave on the boys? What will that teach them?” Miles’ eyes fell to the ground as he crossed his arms tightly. He hadn’t thought of that. “Do you remember that time I had to pull you out of that phone booth and I patched you up myself because you didn’t want to go to the hospital after you got jumped for the first time?”

“I don’t know the emergency room doctors, I don’t trust them,” Miles said quietly, quickly peering up at Butchy before lowering his gaze again. “I trust you with everything, including my life.”

“I’m glad you do,” Butchy replied gently, rubbing his hands up and down Miles’ arms with a small smile. “I trust you with mine, Miles. That isn’t the point, though. What I’m trying to say is, what did I do that night that you can remember?”

Miles shrugged, he didn’t really care to remember that night. He had been unconscious for part of the attack, thankfully, but the pain he felt afterward was more than enough. Butchy had taken care of him, patching him up and making sure he felt safe at home. They had watched TV until far later than they should have and Butchy even called both of their jobs the next day and said they couldn’t come in. They’d spent the whole day together. It always seemed to Miles that Butchy got more protective over him after that night, but Butchy was always protective of those he cared about so it was hard to tell, really.

Butchy took a step back from Miles and put his hands on his hips. “Did I go out hunting down the people who hurt you? No, I didn’t. Did I want to? Of course, I did! You are my brother and they hurt you. I wanted to make them hurt like they hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Butchy took in a deep breath, “I knew that, if I went out there on a rampage like I wanted to, I’d probably end up in jail for assault. I wanted so badly to go out there and find them myself, but I didn’t want you thinking that was right way to handle that kind of situation, so I called the cops and had them handle it.”

Miles nodded, slowly turning his attention back to Butchy. He had never heard Butchy’s account of that night. He never knew what went through Butchy’s head that day and, to be honest, he never asked either. “What do I do?” he asked softly, slowly uncrossing his arms and tucking his hands in his back pocket. “You always seem to know what’s right.”

“Far from it,” Butchy laughed. “Most of what I did was trial and error, hoping that I’d get it right eventually.”

After a minute of silence, Miles smiled up at Butchy. “I think you did.”

“Did what?” Butchy asked, rubbing his arms to warm up as a breeze of ocean air blew by and sent goosebumps across his skin. 

“Got things right,” Miles explained simply, his smile still present. “I think you did a great job of raising Lela and, y’know, handling me. You were only eighteen when you had to start raising Lela on your own and I just appeared one day and-”

“I took you in as my brother,” Butchy interrupted quickly, not allowing Miles to continue. The younger biker had a bad habit of putting himself down and Butchy always tried to cut him off before he could get to it. “You and Lela are my family. It was meant to happen and I’m glad it did.”

“Me too, big guy,” Miles agreed, nudging Butchy’s arm lightly. “What do I do now?”

“Go inside,” Butchy said simply, “hug your brothers and show them you care. I know it can’t the best memory for you, but try to remember what happened the night this happened to you. What happened to make you feel safe? What did I do that made you feel better that you could do for Benny? What do you wish I did that night that you might be able to do?”

“You-”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Butchy cut in, putting an arm around Miles’ back and guiding him toward the front door. “Use what you know from your life experiences to help the boys as you go. Bentley needs you and Royce needs you. Be here for them.”

“Are you going to stay the night, Butch?” Miles asked, sounding somewhat hopeful as they moved up onto the porch. “You know, to make sure I don’t do anything stupid?”

“You’ve done pretty well listening to what I think and what I have to say about the matter, buddy,” Butchy said with a grin and a shake of his head. “I don’t think you’ll do anything stupid tonight.”

“Oh,” Miles mumbled, looking down to the floor as he pulled open the screen door.

“But,” Butchy began after taking in the look on Miles’ face, “you did ask me on the phone if I could stay for a while to watch the boys.”

“I did,” Miles said softly as he pushed open the front door, holding it for Butchy as the older man crossed the threshold behind him.

“Maybe, if the little ones aren’t already asleep,” Butchy started, gauging Miles’ reaction as he went, “we can order a pizza and watch some bad movies.” At Miles’ bright smile and enthusiastic nod, Butchy beamed, reaching up and ruffling Miles’ hair. “Well, that is, if you don’t mind me hanging out for a bit?”

“When, exactly, do I mind having you over?” Miles scoffed with a cheesy grin. “Why don’t you go get the boys while I call the pizza place. They’ll be excited to spend time with you again; I think they like hanging out with their other brother.”

Butchy smiled as he approached Royce and Bentley’s room, hearing Royce reading aloud to Bentley through the door. “I think you mean oldest, there, little buddy. We’ve always been brothers, they just didn’t know it yet.”

#ForeverAlwaysPrompts #writing #writing prompt