#went and got these scanned. for the greater good of the people

[kopw]

from the baka gaijin + friends vol. 2 photo zine. click for higher quality. english transcriptions under the cut!

45 Questions + 45 Answers with Drew Parker/Chris Brookes

Q: Are you a spiritual person? D: Not in the slightest. C: Not really, but I like the idea of it.

Q: Who is your greatest opponent? D: Masashi Takeda. C: My own self doubt.

Q: Which wrestler do you see yourself in most? D: Jeff Hardy. C: The Great Sasuke.

Q: What is your favourite film? D: The Cat in the Hat. C: Battle Royale, True Romance.

Q: Who is a famous person you would like to meet? D: Daisuke Kiso. C: Mio Imada.

Q: What is beautiful for you? D: Dogs. C: Mio Imada.

Q: What is ugly for you? D: My reflection. C: Spiteful people.

Q: What are you like when you get drunk? D: Loud but harmless. C: I don't think I really change much. Too open.

Q: Are you left or right handed? D: Left. C: Left.

Q: Any comment for the world of pro-wrestling! D: It's shit. C: Have more fun.

Q: What is Japan like? D: Very welcoming. C: Wonderful.

Q: What's the angriest you've ever been? D: I'm never angry. C: I'm a very short term, slightly agitated person. I don't get really angry.

Q: What are your greatest weaknesses? D: Discipline. C: Self doubt.

Q: Do you like fashion? D: If it's black I'll wear it. C: I like Death by Roll-Up. Most fashion seems stupid.

Q: What time do you usually wake up/go to sleep? D: 7am/11pm. C: 8am/2am.

Q: Favourite thing to watch on YouTube? D: Games console restoration videos. C: People restoring rusty/dirty antiques.

Q: Your special ability that no one knows about. D: I'm talentless. C: Everyone knows everything these days! How can you keep anything a secret?

Q: What do you enjoy doing most? D: Drinking with Chris. C: Doing nothing is the best time.

Q: What is the biggest mistake of your life? D: I make mistakes daily. C: I don't know if I've made one big enough to quantify it like that.

Q: Are you lucky? D: To make it this far; yes. C: Sometimes.

Q: Who do you consider geniuses? D: Chris Brookes. C: Chris Brookes.

Q: What is your favourite drink? D: Amaretto & ginger or beer. C: Asahi or Sapporo Beer.

Q: What is the first thing you do when you get up in the morning? D: Roll my eyes. C: Check my phone.

Q: What is your mental age? D: 12. C: Old maybe!

Q: What new tattoos would you like to get? D: Something on my leg or on my lip. C: Tattoos are a nuisance in Japan so I don't really want any more.

Q: What is the most important electrical appliance you couldn't live without? D: My Iqos. C: Laptop.

Q: If you got one billion yen? D: Run away into the countryside. C: Save it.

Q: If wrestling were to be banned by law tomorrow, what would you do? D: Work at a bar. C: Open a bar.

Q: What is the one thing you can't beat Chris/Drew at? D: Looking pretty. C: Tanning.

Q: What is your fav point of your hometown? D: How calm it is. C: Family.

Q: What is the song you listened to the most often last year? D: The Halloween movie soundtrack. C: NIN - Gave Up.

Q: What is the song you listened to most often of your life? D: Gangam Style through no fault of my own. C: Wakaranaiiii~.

Q: What do you want to try outside of wrestling? D: Bungee jumping. C: Podcasting.

Q: What do you do when you can't sleep? D: That is never an issue. C: Eat.

Q: If you were invisible what would you do? D: Steal natto maki. C: Go to Area 51.

Q: What would you like to see remain in the world forever? D: Nothing. Restart the whole thing. C: Baka Gaijin + Friends.

Q: What is your fav recent purchase? D: Lush body spray. C: Doc Marten!

Q: What is the definition of friend? D: Anybody who doesn't piss me off. C: Drew.

Q: What would you not want to do if you could? D: Pay taxes. C: Ever have to walk anywhere.

Q: Which do you like, hot or cold? D: Hot. C: Hot.

Q: What have you noticed as you've gotten older? D: My body hurts more. C: Nothing is that important or really worth worrying about.

Q: Do you like keeping things tidy? D: For the most part. C: Very.

Q: What made you sad recently? D: Any sip of alcohol. C: Breaking my laptop.

Q: What made you happy recently? D: Any sip of alcohol. C: Fixing my laptop in just one day.

Q: Any comment for Chris/Drew. D: Love you. C: 3 2 1 BAKA~!

#drew parker #chris brookes #baka gaijin + friends #went and got these scanned. for the greater good of the people

[writeforfandoms]

Welcome to New York 4

Find the series masterlist

Here we are, folks. The official introduction to the larger Spider Society! Things won’t go badly.

Yet.

Warning: Swearing, shock and awe, I think Lyla is awesome so now you do too, Miguel is still Mr. Grumpypants.

Word count: 2.5k

You’d kind of figured you were off the hook by now. You hadn’t seen Spiderman since he’d threatened you (although you’d caught glimpses of other Spider-people). You had stopped investigating, as you were told. 

You’d given up your primary hobby. Which sucked. But you liked not vanishing. 

And you figured something else would catch your attention. Eventually.

You did not expect to hear your window slide open nearly a month after your last meeting with Spiderman. You froze, in the middle of putting together a little snack, and then grabbed a knife before turning to look. 

Spiderman in your living room was no less intimidating, standing taller than life. Even though you knew he was real, had been close enough to feel the heat of him. 

You swallowed hard and very pointedly put the knife back away. 

“Good choice.” He didn’t move towards you, letting you approach him. Which you did. Slowly. 

“I haven’t done anything.” You eyed him, a little more emotionally prepared this time. Not to say you weren’t nervous - your heart was attempting to gallop out of your chest. 

“No. You haven’t.” And he sounded somehow displeased about that. Like he wouldn’t mind having an excuse to throw you into some dark cell somewhere. 

You licked your lips, shifting your weight, gaze darting around the room. But there were no hints, no clues. Just Spiderman standing, arms at his sides, calm as anything, in the light of your living room. Which did give you a practically unprecedented chance to study the design of his suit. “Okay. Well. Uh. Why are you here?” 

He was quiet for a few more moments, a few of the longest of your life. Then he sighed softly, so softly you almost didn’t hear, and lifted his hands. A few taps on the device strapped to his wrist, and he pulled up a document. A flick of his fingers sent the document to your pad, which chimed softly at the incoming message. You hurried to open it, scanning through the first paragraph. 

Everything screeched to a halt.

“What…?” You went back and read it more carefully. There was your legal name, and “offer of employment”, and a sum of money greater than any other job you’d had. You lifted your gaze slowly from the glowing document to Spiderman. “I don’t understand.” 

“The work you put in on your research was solid,” he admitted, sounding like it physically pained him to admit as much. “Some of my colleagues think it’s a good idea to bring you on board to help with some… organizational needs.” 

Meaning he didn’t think so. Somehow, you were both hurt and not surprised. You dropped your gaze to the contract again, hiding behind it. 

“So you’re offering me a job.”

He muttered something that sounded like a curse. “Yes. Read through it. You’ve got until Friday to decide. Meet me at 7pm, same building you poked around in.”

“Okay,” you agreed almost mindlessly, brain still rebooting from the sheer shock of it all. “Friday at 7.” You looked up to thank him.

But he was gone.

You breathed out slowly. Well. He was a bit of a dramatic one. Did that come with the territory of being a Spider-person, or was it just him? 

Shaking your head, you finally actually sat on the couch, settling in to read through the contract. It sounded… good. Too good, really. On property medical. Higher salary. Negotiable time off. 

Honestly, it made you suspicious. A job offer, out of the blue, tempting enough to be hard to resist? Yup. You were suspicious now. 

“The fuck is this about,” you muttered, reading through the job duties again. Which were not actually that helpful. Organizing and filing, both digital and physical. Retrieval of data upon request. Assisting with research. Sounded a bit like a librarian position, but you honestly had no idea how they could need a librarian. 

You made a few notes, highlighted a few things, and then shoved it aside so you could actually sleep. Or at least try. 

Of course, you couldn’t really leave it alone all week. 

It could be some kind of trap, part of you argued. A very elaborate one.

But totally unnecessary, the less paranoid and more logical part of you pointed out. He could have just hauled you off if he wanted to. You knew he was strong enough.

Which meant it was probably an actual, legitimate job offer. 

And that? Just the possibility of that got you excited and a little jittery. 

You might have arrived fifteen minutes early on Friday. You weren’t sure if you were meant to meet him down on the ground floor or the floor where you’d met Mayday and her dad. Going on a hunch, you went up to that floor. 

The view from up here was still beautiful, with lots of green around. Up here, the buildings weren’t so close together, letting evening sunlight through. Which was almost certainly how they maintained the green spaces. You weren’t so high up that you were quite above the traffic, not here, but you could see where the rest of the building was. 

Actually, this building was kind of ridiculously tall. Much, much taller than all the surrounding buildings, for sure. 

“Who even needs that many floors?” you mumbled to yourself, bracing your hands against the railing to look up. 

“We do.”

You jumped, whipping around to stare at Spiderman. He hadn’t quite joined you outside, standing in the doorway so the shadow of the building kept him half-hidden, the red on his suit almost startling. 

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” you accused, pressing one hand to your chest. 

He didn’t apologize, watching you. At least, you assumed he was, as his mask was on. As always. “What’s your decision?” 

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your heartbeat. “I accept.”

He nodded once, short and sharp. “Be here on Monday, then.”

“I need to give my previous job a bit of warning,” you protested, frowning. “I can’t just vanish on them.” 

“You’re a security risk,” he ground out. “Either you start immediately, or this all goes away.”

You huffed. Well. He was not doing great on improving your opinion of him. Then again, he clearly wasn’t trying. “Alright, fine.”

“Smart choice.” He straightened a little. 

“I do have some questions.”

He waved you off. “Monday. Be here early.” He took a step back, melding into the darkness of the building. 

And then he was gone, leaving you alone on the balcony. 

You spent a few more minutes up there thinking over the interaction before you left. You picked up dinner on the way home and then settled in for the weekend. 

Honestly, you had no idea what to expect Monday morning. The bottom part of the building, the part you had access to, was bustling with business people. It looked like businesses rented out the office spaces. Which was a smart way for the Spider-people to generate money, honestly. 

Nobody even gave you a second look as you took the elevator up to the top floor you could get to. You found an out of the way spot to sit and wait, humming a bit to yourself. This part of the hallway was quiet, office doors closed and only the occasional person walking past. 

So when someone called your name, you looked up, a little surprised. A beautiful black woman stood in front of you, hand on her hip. But she looked… different, somehow. You blinked twice, tipping your head a little. 

“That’s me,” you said, standing and smiling. 

“Come with me.” She turned and started walking. You hurried a bit to catch up. 

“Are we going upstairs?” You couldn’t help it if you sounded a bit hopeful, and maybe a tiny bit apprehensive. 

Her lips quirked in a smile. “Yup,” she agreed, one hand resting over her belly, and you couldn’t help but be a bit curious. “I’m gonna be giving you the welcome tour today.” 

An elevator opened in the very back, one you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Feels a bit like an old spy movie,” you murmured, stepping in after her. 

“Here, wear this. You’ll need it to get access to the different parts of the building.” She held out a slim bracelet-thing, which you examined for a moment before you slipped it on. It looked like the one she wore, but slimmer. 

“Is that what yours does as well?” 

She chuckled. “Mine does a bit more than that,” she admitted, even as the elevator suddenly brightened, glass between you and the rest of Nueva York. You looked out at the view with wide eyes. 

“Oh wow. Do you ever get used to this?” 

She paused, tipping her head a little as she followed your gaze. “I don’t have much time for sightseeing.” 

You hummed, turning back away from the glass when you heard a door open. 

“Welcome to Spider Society.” She shot you a smile, amused at your reaction. Your eyes had gone very wide and you were trying to look everywhere all at once. 

There were Spider-people literally everywhere. Everywhere. Upside-down on the ceiling, standing horizontally on the walls, walking ahead of you and your guide. All heights, all sizes. Pretty much all of them were in costume, so many variations on red and blue that you were nearly dizzy with it. 

“Wow.” You turned in a slow circle, managing to not stumble over your own feet, overwhelmed. This space was huge and open, with criss-crossing support beams and walkways. 

“This way.” She had paused to look back at you, and you hurried to catch up. 

“And this is just the entry way, huh?” You grinned, sticking closer to her while still looking around. 

“Uh huh.” She nodded to a couple passing Spiders. “There’s a cafeteria just up here, you’re welcome to come eat here.” 

“Awesome.” You made sure to make note of the turn to get to the cafeteria, taking a quick look around. A whole variety of Spider-people, mostly with coffee and pastries at this time of the morning. Very cool. 

“You don’t need to worry about most of the rest of this place.” She went down another hallway and to another elevator. “You’ll be working in the archives.” 

“Physical or digital?” 

“Mostly digital.” The elevator went down a few floors and she led the way into the space. This entire floor seemed to be the archives, cool air blowing across your skin. (Note to self: bring a sweater.) 

“Wow.” You looked at the sheer volume of computers in the room. “I’m guessing this is for your whole… base of operations.”

“Uh huh.” She took a step back. “Lyla, say hi.”

A little glowing golden person appeared at about eye-level, coat draped dramatically over her shoulders. “Hi! I’m Lyla, the best and most important part of HQ.” 

“Hi.” You blinked. “Are you an AI?”

“Mmhm! The one and only.” 

“Oh wow, I’ve never actually seen an AI. Met? What even is the correct terminology?” 

“Either way, just depends on how friendly you want to be.” Lyla grinned at you. “I’ll show you where to get started!”

“Thanks for the tour,” you said to the woman, turning to give her a little smile and slightly awkward wave. 

“Sure thing. Name’s Jess, by the way. In case you need to find me later.” She nodded once more to you and sauntered out of the room. 

“Okay. Little overwhelmed.” You turned a slow circle, taking in the room. It had that unused feeling - there was no dust, but it felt like nobody came here often. 

“That’s pretty normal,” Lyla agreed, filing her nails. “Takes most of the Spiders a bit of time to calm down.” 

“Fair.” You breathed in deep. Okay. You were here to do a job, not to freak out. “Right. What are we looking at?” 

Screens popped up, dozens of them. Hundreds possibly. Your eyes went wide in despair. 

“Some of it has been done,” Lyla told you, standing near your shoulder to look out at the sea of gently-glowing orange-ish screens. “But we just kinda threw it together back at the beginning, before we knew there would be this many.” 

You sucked in another deep breath. Okay. Yeah, this would be a lot of work, but you could do it. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got so far.” 

The first day was not quite a wash, but you did spend the entire time learning the original tagging system and deciding how best to move forward. This wasn’t exactly something you were trained in, but, well… You could organize things. You liked to. You even liked to keep track of data. 

So it wasn’t a hardship. It wasn’t even necessarily hard. Just time consuming. 

Nobody kicked you out, but you still finished up and left the room. Taking the elevator back up was a little odd, and Spider Society seemed to be even busier now. You had to do a quick side-step to avoid someone swinging past you. 

“Incredible,” you murmured, taking a few moments to just look. 

“It is, huh?” 

You jumped a little and turned to look at the man in the pink bathrobe. “Oh! Hi again.” 

“Hi.” He grinned at you, tired but happy. 

“Where’s Mayday?” You motioned to the empty baby carrier. 

“Hobie’s got her for a few minutes. I wanted to check in and see how your first day was.” 

You shrugged. “Fine. Quiet. It’s gonna take some time to get everything updated and sorted properly, but I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He smiled at you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. “Who gave you the tour this morning?”

“Uh, Jess showed me around a little bit?” 

“I bet she didn’t show you any of the fun stuff, though.” 

“Define fun stuff.” You spoke a little cautiously, eyeing him. 

“She definitely didn’t show you the fun stuff.” He grinned. “I’m Peter, by the way. Peter B. Parker. There are a lot of Peters around, so be aware.” 

“Really?” You looked at him curiously even as he gently herded you along. 

“Oh yeah. I forget what percentage it is, but it’s a high percentage of Spiders are Peter, or some derivation.” 

“Interesting.” You shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll learn all about that sooner or later.”

“I bet you will.” He shot you a friendly grin before he sat you in front of a counter. “Now, you have got to try this shake. I don’t even know what’s in it, but it’s amazing.” 

“Um.” You blinked at him, not quite sure where this was going. Food, apparently. 

But you were admittedly distracted when you spotted your universe’s Spiderman walking through the cafeteria. His mask was off, leaving you blinking at thick dark hair. Brown-red eyes met yours across the room and you froze. 

He looked away first, turning and walking in a different direction. You breathed in again.

You’d had no idea he was such a handsome jerk. 

“Oh, Miguel?” Peter chuckled, patting your shoulder and jerking your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about my friend! He’s all bark and no bite.” 

Somehow you doubted that.

#welcome to new york #miguel o'hara x reader #f!reader

[wthtorke]

Denial

Celtic x Reader

No one could ever deny the potential he had. He was perfect and envied by so many of his peers, the only true friends by his side being his brothers, forever loyal and just as determined as he was to earn their markings and call themselves true hunters, truly blooded at last. 

The world seemed to speed up whenever you spotted him, his training always intense and almost nonstop. While his clanmates drank and had their fun, you could always find Celtic sparring or, when it was too late, he trained alone. His moves were precise, unwavering, muscles rippling and tensing as he played out a fight in his head, eyes moving as if he fought against a cloaked enemy whom only he could see. It was easy to get lost in Celtic. Everything that was him embraced you so.  It was hard not to feel the ache in your chest every time you thought about the hunt. Even when you knew it was every youngblood’s greatest desire. To be successful in the hunt, to prove yourself, and to feel all the glory and relief of finally making it.

You cheered for him. Not just for him but for his brothers as well. But your heart remained with him, in every move, every thought, and every breath. Celtic wasn’t cocky even when he had all the reason to be. He wasn’t ignorant, nor was he limited. Celtic exceeded any and every expectation there ever was on his back. Never buckling under pressure, never letting his nerves get the best of him, never being reckless and stupid.

Celtic was perfect.

If you stand out for whatever reason, you are bound to get nailed on the head. Be it by comments, actions, or anything foul coming from people that didn’t know the half of it. Celtic had the triple of challenges anyone his age had in practice. Every youngblood swearing they could take him down only for Celtic to prove, yet again, that it would take more than just that to bend him. To make him fall. And he never did. Celtic always got back up, nodding his acceptance to yet another fight, fists clenched and ready to go again.

Celtic’s shoulders never relaxed. He was always tense as if he carried weights constantly chained to his body. As if he dared to lose focus, the world would crumble then and there. 

You were more than surprised someone so perfect would look in your way, let alone approach you as he did. But how much did anyone know about what went in Celtic’s head? 

Celtic was in denial.

The partnership with humans didn’t affect him as much as it did other people as the eldest brother, Celtic was taught respect from a very young age. He couldn’t afford to be cocky and reckless. His younger brothers and his team relied on him for decision-making, guidance, and being there for them when they needed him. Leaders didn’t underestimate anyone. The good ones didn’t, anyway.

Still, seeing humans walking around their ship, talking to their people, interacting, and just being there was ….odd. It wasn’t hard to see them as they were. They were people, living beings much like Celtic and anyone who breathes. But the denial came in when he saw you. He knew that the humans and their coexistence would bring relationships beyond friendships, and he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t expect to be one of the warriors to ….look at humans that way.

You were stunning. 

Celtic remembers seeing you for the first time, in between a crowd of humans that had just arrived at the ship, the second group to come into the program, come to settle now that the first group’s interactions had proven successful with the Yautja. 

He saw your eyes scan the room with curiosity and hope. He liked the way they sparkled when they landed on him. Celtic’s expectations for the program have increased tenfold with your arrival, and therefore, his own goals got greater. He trained harder when he knew your eyes were on him. He pushed himself further and further each day, a primal feeling urging him to be the best among any person in whatever room you were in, to call to you, to have you notice, to have you want him as intensely as he desired you.

He told himself that it wasn’t nearly as important as it seemed, that the burning he felt in his chest wasn’t longing, but juvenile stupidity, that he didn’t know any better. Stupidity or not, he found himself driven to you, involuntarily so. 

He caught himself looking at you, stealing glances whenever he took another challenger down, heavy breathing from strain behind his mask, muscles rippling and claws twitching, wanting, longing, always longing. 

He stared at his hands late at night, resting on his bunk bed. His eyes made out the rough shapes of his hands in the dark, hearing his brothers’ soft snoring rising from the bunk under and beside his own. He wondered what it would feel like to hold you, to feel his fingers gently close around your arms as he confessed. Confessed...? His tusks pulled into a frown, the quills on his browbones tightening as he scowled. Confession,

“Stop growling and sleep already.” Came the also annoyed voice from under his bed. Chopper. Followed by silent chuckling from somewhere on the other side of the room. Scar. “Brother has it hard.” He says. Celtic grunts. Maybe he did, but

“That’s none of your business.” 

He got another chuckle in reply, silence filling the dark room again after that. 

It’d have to end, he told himself. He was losing focus. His brothers needed him sharp on their missions, in their efforts to fight off badbloods and win them, even if they hadn’t had any after their Chiva, after becoming blooded. 

It’s not an excuse to slack, he thought. No human nor Yautja would throw him off so easily. Except that you did, and it didn’t have to do with being human or not. He realized that when he saw a human male talking to you one day. Jealously was not uncommon to his people. They could get possessive and aggressive over the people they liked.

He approaches you feeling ashamed, defeated, and succumbing to his silliness. But that didn’t show on the outside. It never did. 

He steels himself as he closes the space between you, faltering when you turn around and look at him like he was the ship’s most honored warrior. Eyes widen as you realize that he walked up to you. Your lips parted slowly, giving him the tiniest peep of the blunt teeth you had behind them.  It made his stomach flip. He clenches his fists beside him. 

You can feel your heart rate quicken at the sight of him, your hands growing restless as he tilts his head at you. He wasn’t rude by any means. If anything, you’d have yet to know someone more respectful than he was. 

“I would like to know you better.” He said after a while into your conversation. “I realized I enjoy it when you’re around.” 

Never had you appreciated their forwardness more than now. 

“That sounds great. I’m also interested in you.” Your voice felt thick, and your fingers twitched when his broad shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit at your response. Maybe he was under your spell as much as you were under his. The thought of a simple human wielding such power over a Yautja was as funny as it was concerning. But then again, Celtic always faced everything with bravery and determination.

Even small, sweet humans that made him stay up at night. 

-

This was posted a month ago on patreon! Thank you for your support 💜

#yautja #predator #alien #yautja/human #the predator #human/yautja #alien relationship #headcanon #predators #yautja boyfriend #patreon post #celtic predator #celtic

[plagueybirb]

Random headcanons! Because I have many thoughts and they take up too much brain, so might as well put them somewhere and it's a long one

Skeptic can read QR codes and bar codes. Like physically read them. No scanning necessary.

On that same note, he absolutely cannot read sheet music. It's completely incomprehensible to him

He's definitely hypermobile, and that comes with all the creaking joints, pain, and scary stupid flexibility. Absolutely used it to scare the shit out of people when he was younger. Think bending over backwards to do that freaky spider walk from (I think) The Exorcist

Doesn't mean shit about his balance though. Regularly walks into walls and door frames and is covered in bruises as a result. He definitely trips over his own feet, does that little stumble run thing, and proceeds to act like he almost didn't just lose a fight to gravity

Occasionally stands with his elbows bent and his hands just dangling. T-Rex arms basically. And by occasionally I mean literally whenever he's not holding something, actively doing something, or just has his hands in his pockets

I know this man just sits in the dark in his office. No reason for it, he just does

Owns exactly one dress. It's the Morticia Addams one. I will die on this hill

About his quirk. Using it too much in a short period of time (such as the Meta Liberation Army war arc when he went to fight Twice personally) results in his hands being really sore. He also gets bad headaches from it, and maybe a slight pain behind his eyes. He knows this very well, but chooses to do it anyway. His fear of failure is far greater than any concern over his own well being will ever be

He! Loves! Spiders! All spiders! Has several as pets, names all of them and treats them like his own children

Corporate Goth

Probably had Hawks merch. Dude's a bit of a fan, not that he would ever admit it

A Gorillaz fan as well. Named his tech company after one of their songs and everything

Was the most IPad kid to ever IPad. You could not separate his 3 year old self from his tablet unless you wanted to deal with the worlds worst temper tantrum. Would still probably freak out today if someone were to take his laptop from him.

Slept in a coffin shaped bed in his teen years because he thought it was cool

Dated maybe once in college? Was not all that interested and didn't date anyone again. He's just not interested. Never has been, and might not ever be. He's okay with that, happy even

HOWEVER. In the universe's where he is interested in dating, he's got standards and they are HIGH. Again, dated once maybe in college, was not much of a fan, and didn't date again until his 30s

Doesn't develop feelings or crushes easily, but he definitely falls HARD if it ever did happen. Not that anyone would know, he's both secretive and has the most convoluted flirting strategy on the planet

*sets pen down in a super particular way* "Ah, yes, this will definitely convey my feelings perfectly, I'm so good at this flirting thing"

"What the fuck do you mean I can't ask them out over email it's the most efficient way"

"Okayokayokay, they sat next to me in the meeting, good, time to make my next move" *completely ignores them for the entire meeting except to slide a piece of paper over with nothing but binary code written on it* "Okay, now to wait for their answer. All according to plan"

It's his phone number. In binary code. That he gave zero explanation on how to translate it. So the recipient is just stuck with a sheet of paper with 1s and 0s on it. In the worst handwriting imaginable

Might do more of these someday, this already feels long as it is

#my hero academia #bnha #meta liberation army #bnha skeptic #mha headcanons #tomoyasu chikazoku #plf

[marigoldsinamber]

Something Exciting (Reverend Lovejoy x Reader)

Summary:

From the day he first noticed you, he knew you didn't belong in Springfield. He never meant to fall for you as hard as he did; God must be tormenting him for something but he had no idea what it could be.

Ships: Reverend Lovejoy/Reader

Content Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 10.3k

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Things so rarely changed in Springfield. The members who filtered through the church’s doors never really differed from week to week. It was one of the reasons he noticed you, standing just outside the entrance and leaning against the door frame to listen.

He couldn’t make out your features, saw nothing but the red of a skirt as the wind rustled by and he turned his attention elsewhere.

You stayed for the majority of the sermon but disappeared as he began on the final prayer like a strange ghost. Even after you disappeared, the reverend still glanced toward the entrance as he finished his announcements, still scanned over the crowds as they gathered on the church lawn.

He didn’t ask Helen about it though he knew his wife would probably be the most likely to have answers. If he’d imagined you, he’d rather not have people talking about how he might be losing his mind.

The next week, once again, you appeared halfway through the sermon – slipped through the open door and stood just inside the building.

Now he could confirm you were real and certainly not from around town, he stared a second too long. Though his words continued, his gaze locked on yours and so did the ever-watching eyes of the front row who always paid a mite too much attention to his mannerisms.

It was almost cartoonish how they looked back in sync to see the newcomer who immediately ducked back out.

He almost rolled his eyes at the situation. If they wanted to encourage greater attendance at church, it helped not to gawk at people who might have entered late. Of course, he complained at those he’d met who arrived halfway through but you were new.

And it immediately turned into the main discussion once everybody filtered out. Helen asked just about all her friends if they had any idea who she might have been and the topic of his sermon went forgotten.

Though, to be honest, he scarcely remembered it himself.

“She’s not from around here,” Helen said the second they got in the car. She looked more awake than usual, only eager to speak about her information. “I asked around and nobody has friends or family open. Do you think she’s looking to move in? We might have a new family joining our flock.”

“I suppose she could just be a tourist,” he said slowly.

“In Springfield? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Anything’s possible.”

Anybody who visited the town got bored of it quickly though. He’d seen you for two Sundays in a row so it seemed Helen might be right.

She smugly informed of such at the dinner table that evening. “It looks like she might be moving into that empty house close to the Flanders. Apparently, she was being shown around a few days ago by a real estate agency.”

“Didn’t the woman who lived there die a painful and drawn-out death?”

“Well, yes but that probably means it’ll be available for a very good price. I can’t say she’s off to a good start if she disrupted the service like she did.”

By the time the next week rolled around, it appeared the town had already grown bored of its newest citizen. He spotted you hovering once more beyond the doors and considered inviting you to come take a seat. It couldn’t be too comfortable standing outside in the sun and listening.

As he was thinking of doing so, you slipped through the doors and took a seat at the very back, practically hidden in the darkest corner.

He gave a small tilt of his head in acknowledgement and continued, refocused his attention on nothing so nobody could ever accuse him of being too enthusiastic about what he preached. The last thing he needed was to invite another Ned into his life.

After he’d stepped outside to speak to all those who needed him (fortunately not many) and to bid his wife goodbye before she headed out to a brunch with her friends, he returned to find one person hadn’t quite moved. Your eyes still trained on the stained-glass windows, hair twisting in the light breeze.

He cleared his throat and you startled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I got carried away looking at the windows,” you said and hurried to stand. “I’ll make my way out.”

He held up his hand. “No need to rush. If you’re searching for guidance, you’re more than welcome to spend your time here. Unless you find the doors locked which they will be from five to seven.”

You laughed and toyed with a strand of hair. “I wasn’t really praying, per say. I’ve just been admiring the windows for a few days now and I wanted to see how they look from the inside. The design work is phenomenal.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious. “I can hardly imagine anybody would visit the same building for three weeks just to look at the windows.”

“You’ve noticed?”

“If you’re going for inconspicuous, you ought to find a better hiding place. May I recommend behind the pipe organ.”

You laughed and your shoulders relaxed somewhat. “I’m sorry for hovering, really. I wasn’t trying to be secretive or anything but I’m still trying to get a proper feel for the town.”

“You’ve recently moved in.”

“I got a job nearby so I had to. I’ve explored most of the areas now but something about the church kept calling me over.”

He nodded solemnly. “Seems the Lord might be calling for you then. Our sermons are open to any who have willing hearts. You don’t need to hide in the shadows at the back of the hall.”

You laughed, soft and sweet. “I’m afraid I’ve grown rather fond of the spiders though.”

He glanced past you to see that there were a fair number of webs there. He sighed. It really was impossible to keep this place clean. Though Helen sometimes helped (and he refused to let Ned near him for that long), it felt continuously dirty.

“They’re as welcome as anybody else I suppose.”

You smiled and straightened your clothing which were likely to end up in the gossip mill around town if anybody saw them. Most of the woman took it upon themselves to enforce a rather strict modesty rule in the church that he never really cared too much about. They certainly wouldn’t approve of any of the outfits he’d seen you wearing.

Maybe that was why you hadn’t approached any of the others in town yet. Something might have warned you about their more judgmental nature at times.

Your gaze flicked to the windows once more and you smiled. “Praying’s never really worked before. Maybe it’ll be better this time.”

“The Lord answers us when we need him to,” he said, his answer almost instinctual. He’d needed to respond to so many with the same sentiment that he only paused when your expression fell somewhat.

“I guess there’s no harm in trying,” you admitted. “Thank you.”

And you left so quickly he didn’t even realise he hadn’t gotten your name. He glanced at the spot you’d been sitting in and wondered if he should try and get rid of the spiders before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. If they bothered you enough, you’d probably eventually chase them by yourself.

The next time he saw you, he finally got your name.

He’d always considered Helen’s friendship with the Flanders rather unfortunate because it meant even more exposure to them than he wanted. The frequent bowling was, at least, one of the better options when it came to spending time with them.

Helen noticed you first, sitting with a small group that he only vaguely recognised. Certainly not churchgoers but perhaps your co-workers? You did appear far more comfortable with them than you did in any other interaction he’d had with you.

“Isn’t that your new neighbour, Maude?” Helen asked.

Maude gave a small smile. “It is. She’s quite lovely, you know, just very quiet. The boys always want to go and play with her dog but to be entirely transparent with you, I’m weary of letting them. I’ve never seen the animal so I don’t know what breed it is and some can be a little more inclined to bite than others.”

They probably wouldn’t be happy unless it was the size of a chihuahua but he didn’t say anything. The family feared just about everything.

“Quiet is one way to describe it,” Helen said. “Nobody knows anything about her except how she works in the accounting department for that horrible Mr. Burns and you know the standards of people he has working for him.”

“Rather unfortunate that he provides employment for half the town in some way or another,” he remarked dryly.

“But there are still plenty of places to work which don’t involve helping such an evil man,” Helen said with an affected shudder. “I still remember when he stole the sun.”

“She can’t be too bad though,” Ned said as he chose his ball. “Not many young girls like her willingly come to church. I invited her to come sit up front with us just the other day but she said she preferred her spot in the back. Not sure why but as long as she’s hearing the good word, I’m just chuffed she’s there.”

“Maybe she likes the spiders,” he drawled and met three very confused looks before he realised it didn’t make sense out of context.

Thankfully, Maude saved him from having to explain when she raised her hand to wave you over. You stepped away from your game and strolled over to say hello – clad in an ill-fitting bowling shirt that had to be loaned from somebody. Yet despite being a few sizes big, it somehow suited your look.

“Hey there neighbourino,” Ned greeted cheerily. “Didn’t know you bowled or I would have invited you to come with.”

“Oh, thank you but I don’t really bowl. A few guys from work invited me out so I thought I may as well give it a shot. They loaned me one of their shirts too but it’s a bit…” You pulled on the side to emphasis its size.

Ned laughed and nodded. “Well, if you end up enjoying it, you are more than welcome to come with us sometime. Say, have you met the reverend and his wife properly?”

Your gaze flicked to him and for a second, his mouth felt a little dryer than usual. You offered the same nervous grin you always gave him and finally provided him with a name before you shook his hand, grip featherlight.

“You work for Mr. Burns from what I hear,” Helen said after she’d introduced herself. “That must be so much fun.”

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s pretty boring. I mostly keep track of expenses around the nuclear plant and try to limit them where I can.”

“Doesn’t really sound like the type of job you move all the way to Springfield for.”

“It’s not too bad. I didn’t have any real roots back home so when the opportunity presented itself, I just took it.”

“Really? No husband? Kids?”

You shook your head. “Neither.”

Helen laughed and nodded in understanding. “Don’t worry, you’re not missing much. My daughter has been causing so many problems lately. I feel like I’m getting a call from the principle on a daily basis.”

“Helen,” he said softly, pleading with her to quieten.

He knew she loved all gossip equally but he preferred it when it didn’t surround his family. He certainly didn’t need to form a reputation as a poor father around every newcomer to town. It was bad enough they had to constantly shell out money to replace whatever Jessica stole or broke at school.

You shifted your weight awkwardly. “You have a daughter? That’s lovely.”

“Sometimes but you know, she’s a bit much. I can only hope she’ll grow out of it.”

Maude nodded in agreement. “I’m hoping my two will get a little stronger as time goes on. They’re so sensitive to everything and I’m worried they won’t be able to handle the real world sometimes.”

Ned placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry Maude, they’ll be fine.”

You smiled and mentioned returning to your game, clearly somewhat uncomfortable with the conversation. He watched you for a little bit before he returned to his own bowling, content with no longer thinking about anybody new in town.

“She looks like she came from a big city,” Helen said, breaking his illusion. “They all have the idea they’re better than us in some way.”

“I think she’s just shy,” Maude said with a small smile. “She helps out where she can.”

He could mention how long you sat in the church after sermons, eyes trained on the windows, but he imagined that might cause more interest. Part of him was curious as well. It sounded like you might have moved away for more than a boring job and an empty house.

Maude was right though. You showed a keen interest in helping when the next Sunday, he drawled, “If you keep staying this late, I’m going to sign you up as a volunteer.”

You immediately asked what it entailed, which was a problem because he didn’t actually have much for a volunteer to do.

Maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe you weren’t praying for some salvation or escape – perhaps you attended the church because you were bored. You certainly seemed eager when he found a few tasks you could help with. Take attendance, help clean some of the building, and do some research on topics for the next service.

You helped him set up the pipe organ when it needed tuning and gave ideas for small events the church could host to bolster attendance. It was actually very helpful but you arrived whenever you could and he started to wonder.

“I do hope I’m not taking you away from your actual job,” he said one day when he arrived to open the church and found you sitting against the locked door, a book in your hand.

You stretched as you stood, the edges of your shirt rising up above your hips just enough to notice. “The only thing I’m missing out on is lounging around at home. I don’t have too many things to do in town just yet.”

“There’s always walking your dog,” he commented.

“Oh, I don’t have a dog. I’ve been thinking of getting one though.”

He frowned but didn’t comment on it. What were the Flander boys chasing after if not a dog?

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Helen said excitedly and handed you a rather large box of baked goods that had been donated. “We need to make sure all of these are appropriate before we set them out. Last month, somebody put toothpicks in a few of the cupcakes to ‘hold up decorations’ and children can get badly hurt by tricks like those.”

You smiled somewhat nervously and he just opened the church doors.

Maude and Ned arrived somewhat later and your discomfort only grew as more people arrived after them and the church grounds became more crowded than they had been at any sermon.

The church hosted this bake sale to raise funds every month and most families brought goods to be sold. The Simpsons had been banned some time ago but occasionally they still slipped in so Helen was on constant watch.

He had a headache before the first hour had even passed.

He noticed when you disappeared into the main building, promising to come back soon with something or the other. When you didn’t come out again, he took an opportunity to follow, curious if nothing else and more than willing to take advantage of a brief break from having to speak to people.

He found you buzzing around the announcement board as though looking pointlessly for something. “Are you alright?”

You startled and gave an awkward smile, quickly snatching the poster for the bake sale off the wall. “Somebody was uh, looking for this. They wanted to know what time it would be running until.”

“I see.”

You tried a smile though it really came out more as a grimace but didn’t seem willing to leave. Instead, you turned your attention to the board again. “I noticed there was an auto show next weekend Saturday. Do you know if it’s like a weekly thing or…?”

“It’s once a year,” he said, glancing at the poster to note where it said annual. “They have more than cars.”

“Oh, that’s pretty interesting.”

You took a deep breath and smiled. “Right. I should probably get back out there then.”

He watched you take two steps before he impulsively asked, “Would you be interested in going?”

“Sorry?”

“To the show,” he clarified. “I have a spare ticket if you did want to.”

Your excitement bubbled up slowly. “I mean, I would definitely want to but I don’t know if I’ll even have the day off. I’d have to see if I’m needed on Saturday.”

“Well, let me know.”

He didn’t know why he’d lied. He didn’t actually have a spare ticket – he’d only bought himself one knowing that Helen wouldn’t really be interested and more likely wanted to spend the day with her mother.

Yet when you approached him toward the end of the sale and asked if the offer was still available, he didn’t find himself exhausted at the idea of buying another ticket.

He only later realised how it might look if he took you alone and begrudgingly took the phone to invite Ned and his family. It was lucky that people had been fairly generous with their donations lately because he ended up buying an additional five.

“It’s for the highest attendance rate to sermons,” he explained when Ned asked why the sudden invite. “Based on how long they’ve lived here.” He quickly added the last part.

It wasn’t too busy and she looked more excited than he anticipated, early discussing some of the cars with Marge and showing the kids somethings they’d like. The awkwardness you’d had was fading and he found himself somewhat happy to see it.

“Reverend?”

His title in your voice startled him more than he’d expected it. Had you ever called him that before? No, most certainly not. He rather liked the way you said the word.

“Yes?”

“Ned mentioned you’re quite fond of trains. They have a whole section for some older models if you’d like to go see them next?”

He agreed and followed you through the thin crowds, ignoring the strange fluttering in his chest. Must have been something he ate. The Flanders split off for a short while to see if they could find healthy food for their kids and you followed him around curiously as he appreciated the trains.

“I do prefer the model versions,” he admitted. “But they’re very impressive at any size.”

“Do you create your own tracks and backgrounds?” you asked and he nodded proudly.

“I do. It takes hours of dedicated work but it’s mostly worth it. So long as I don’t get distracted and end up accidentally ruining any of my trains.”

You hummed, interested and he began to offer small pieces of interesting information about the various trains. You listened with rapt attention, occasionally giving input but otherwise listening as though he was giving a small sermon though considerably more passionately than he usually did.

“I actually rode in one of these to Springfield,” you said as you passed one of the trains. “It was quicker than driving but I didn’t want to leave my car in the back alone so I stayed with it.”

“That’s some dedication for a job.”

“And a house. I technically inherited both just from different people. I was already sort of working in the industry so I had the experience and I wasn’t tied down anymore.”

“Fortunate.”

“I know. There are benefits to being alone sometimes.”

His instinctive reaction to your mood dip was to give the standard response; tell you the Lord had plans and all you needed was to trust him. Yet something stopped him from giving the default sentiment.

“Well, aren’t you unlucky to have made so many friends here then?”

You laughed. “I haven’t made that many.”

“It seems as though you’ve charmed quite a few people in this town.”

“What about us? Are we friends, reverend?”

There was his title again and the strange discomfort in his stomach. He gave a small hum in answer. “I imagine so.”

Helen looked ready for a fight when he arrived home. Accusation seeped through her greeting as she crossed her arms over her chest. Luann had phoned to ask if she knew her husband had been spending time with another woman and she’d had to lie to say she already heard about it.

“My mother and I would have come with,” she said. “If you bothered to invite us.”

“You have no interest in going usually,” he pointed out. “But if you would like to join us, you are more than welcome to next year.”

She huffed. “I don’t want to go but if you’re going to be flitting around with some woman outside our marriage then the least you can do is tell me. Do you have any idea how wild the rumours would go?”

He tried his hardest not to look too exasperated. More than half of those stories came from her. “I’m surprised none of them have started wondering if we’re divorced given how often we fight in public.”

“Everybody has marriage problems in this town,” she said with a wave and a small laugh. “I’d say we’re the most stable of the lot.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“We wouldn’t fight so much if you weren’t so cold, you know,” she said. “Everybody talks about it already. You’re more interested in those trains than you are in me.”

“The only possible way people would speak about that would be if you told them.”

“I have to talk to somebody when you’re not around.”

She was right, he supposed. He’d tried back when they first got married after her senseless gossiping gave them no other option but he’d grown less caring when nothing built the relationship properly. If they spoke nicely to one another, it was only about other people or the church.

And sometimes, he really didn’t want to speak about the church anymore.

“I am around. We live together.”

“You’re also boring, Tim, alright? Talking to you sometimes is like listening to nails get dragged down a chalkboard slowly. Why do you think everybody falls asleep constantly or runs away? You’re not fun. You’re not interesting.”

“You certainly didn’t feel that way when you told all your friends we were getting married barely a month into dating.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, don’t bring that up. You said it was fine because we both wanted it.”

“Maybe if I’d had the time to date you for a little while longer, I would have changed my mind.”

He hadn’t snapped in ages and the frustration brewed beneath his skin. The regret came almost immediately but Helen stared at him with almost no care. Then came the realisation of how little she worried about his sentiments and with it, a stab of hurt at the lack of interest she showed even now.

“I don’t want us to earn a reputation for being unhappily married,” she said. “Not unless it comes from me first. Otherwise, everybody in town is going to be talking about how I’m not satisfying you.”

She wasn’t and he felt he might not be providing her with any happiness either.

“I haven’t done anything with her,” he said.

And Helen scoffed and waved her hand. “I don’t care if you have or haven’t. Visit every tramp in town if you really want to but at least allow me to be the one who spreads the story.”

He didn’t even know how to respond to it.

The days after that argument stretched out like they never had before. He spent all of his time on his trains or making up excuses to go to work. They weren’t speaking. She barely glanced at him in passing as he stalked past the kitchen.

His bad mood followed him around like a cloud, dark enough to even ward off Ned for the majority of the week. He walked the dog so many times it eventually lay down and refused to get up until he left. When he overheard Helen discussing their fight with somebody on the phone, he decided to just leave the dog and walk by himself.

And, because God wanted to make his life harder, he walked right past you.

“You got a dog,” he said after he found no way to escape after exchanging quick greetings.

“I did. The boys next door kept trying to pet some weird raccoon living in my backyard so I thought this might help them avoid getting rabies,” you said with a laugh. “And I get some company so it works out.”

“That’s always good.”

He shouldn’t hover near you too much if he wanted to shake the remarks but there was something soothing about speaking to you.

“I didn’t know you walked in this neighbourhood,” you admitted. “We’re pretty close to my place and I know sometimes Ned can be a little overbearing.”

“Ever so slightly,” he said slowly. “I walk sometimes when I need to clear my head.”

“Oh, of course. Maybe I could interest you in a cup of coffee?”

He wanted to accept. It sounded far better than strolling around aimlessly but Helen’s accusatory tone still lingered in his head and as he looked at you with your soft smile, he felt uneasy.

“No, no. I have choir practice to attend.”

“At this time in the evening?”

“The Lord doesn’t sleep, you know.”

“He should try it sometime,” you commented with a smile. “But before you run off, I heard there’s actually a restaurant inside a train in town. I’m sure you’ve been there a few times before so you must know if it’s any good.”

He knew exactly which restaurant you were talking about. “The food is alright, I suppose. Nothing special.”

“Aw that’s a shame. I guess I can’t surprise you with a dinner there,” you said with a tease and for a second, he faltered.

“Trust me, I was just as disappointed when I found out,” he mused.

“I’ll find somewhere else.”

He spoke before he even thought the words through. “I look forward to it.”

When he got out the car on Sunday, Helen swept around to link her arm through his and plaster on a smile as though they’d had a delightful conversation rather than a surly drive over. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this; he’d expected it to happen. He couldn’t help but feel it might be disingenuous.

He repeated his sermon from the previous week and not many paid enough attention to notice as he guessed. He’d done it before when he forgot to write something.

Helen walked out the church with him but instead of returning to assist with anything else, she disappeared with Luann without a word. He’d expected that too as well as needing to reassure Ned that his repetition was intentional.

You were sitting inside still, as you often did before helping organise anything and he loosened his robes as he walked past.

“Still here?” he asked. “Window-gazing again?”

“They’ve grown pretty boring,” you admitted with the slightest smile. “But I have to hang out with the spiders or they’ll think I’ve forgotten them.”

“Couldn’t have that.”

You got up to follow him to his office, collected all the smaller pieces as you went and dug out a lost coat from nearby. “This belongs to Luann’s kid,” you said. “I’ll drop it off tomorrow on the way to work.” You were glancing at him from the corner of your eye before you continued with the question you surely wanted to ask. “How’s your week been?”

“Living is a continuous trial,” he said. “It’s how we prove our faith to the Lord.”

You grimaced. “Must have been quite taxing if you reused a sermon.”

“Surprised you noticed.”

“I listen,” you protested with a good-natured smile. “Unless I’m late but I’ve gotten better at that, you have to admit.”

He actually couldn’t remember when last you’d been late to his service. You leaned against the corner of the desk, relaxed and easy. He realised you were likely waiting for instructions of some sort but he didn’t really have any.

“Maybe this week will be better,” you offered sympathetically.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

In two days, they were due to call Jessica’s boarding school and get an update on her which always resulted in a fight. They disagreed on what to do about their daughter frequently and it spiraled into an argument about everything. Sometimes, he felt entirely unaffected by it but other times the emotion he forced down crept up again.

He shook himself free of his self-pity when you made a small humming sound. “Everything alright? You look… odd.”

He didn’t actually know what to make of your expression. Somewhere between nervous and upset; you kept thumbing at the corner of the library’s bible where it sat on his desk.

“Are you taking confessions now?”

You clearly meant it as a joke but his curiosity didn’t let him laugh it off. “I don’t usually but as long as you’re not going to admit to murder of any kind, I suppose I can try to offer my advice.”

“Oh no murder, just a slightly odd compliment.” You leaned a little forward as though you had a secret to share. “I don’t attend the church to hear about the bible. I just like listening to your voice.”

He scoffed at the idea. “I imagine you were suffering from insomnia or some other form of sleep deprivation.”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I’m sleeping perfectly well.”

“The Lord does work in mysterious ways. Perhaps he gave you an increased tolerance to his glorified sleeping tablet.”

“Or you just make it interesting.”

“I doubt that.”

You quirked the corner up into the small, humoured smile you so often did. He couldn’t help but return the expression despite his mood. He appreciated your softness more than he wanted to admit; caught himself staring at you for a second too long as he thought over the idea of somebody wanting to listen to him.

His gaze met yours and you tilted your head to the side. “I have another confession, if you want to hear it.”

He should have stepped away when he noticed the whispered implication. Should have remained steady and reminded you he didn’t take confessions. Should have done anything but kiss you.

The soft, startled sound you made tasted sweet on your lips; your arm immediately wrapped around his neck as you returned the kiss passionately. He pressed against you, lost himself in the warmth of your mouth and the arch of your back as you steadied yourself against the desk.

One of your knees slotted between his own and the brush of your thigh made him groan. You twisted his tie to pull him closer still as you began to loosen it; rolled your body against his.

Finally, his brain caught up with what he was doing and he broke the kiss harshly. He stared with lips slightly parted as he tried to steady his breath.

He had so many ‘correct’ responses to give. Part of his mind was already urging him to pray for forgiveness. His guilt crawled up the back of his throat as he considered asking you to leave and you were bracing for that response. He could see the weariness in your gaze even if your eyes were heavily lidded and your lips kiss swollen. His tie hung in your hand.

He kissed you again with purpose and your soft moan shoved that guilt down once more.

You lifted yourself onto the desk, wrapped your legs around his waist and dragged him even closer. The perfume lingering on your skin was almost overwhelming. He buried a hand in your hair and gave a small tug to encourage your head back so he could trail kisses over your throat while you deftly undid the top buttons on his shirt.

The phone started to ring. You twisted your head away to glance at it but he caught your lips again; ignored its shrill for a few moments longer to lose himself in your softness before he answered it, your noses still brushing against one another.

“Reverend Lovejoy speaking,” he said and hoped whoever was on the other side didn’t notice how breathless he sounded.

He wanted to hang up the phone and go back to whatever it had dragged him away from. The bottom of your shirt had ridden up like it so often did and this time, he didn’t have to ignore it. He’d been ignoring many things about you.

Ned’s voice sliced through the spell like a knife and he straightened, moved ever so slightly away from the temptation of your lips.

“Reverend, I’m having a bit of an issue here. I think we might have hit a possum but the little guy scurried off before we got a good look. I’m just shaking with guilt not knowing if the poor thing got hurt or not.”

His own guilt crept back into his mind at the reminder. His response was short and clipped, something about God’s will, but Ned’s call felt too much like an accusation.

Yet despite that, all he could do was stare at you with your hair messed up and your gaze filled with happiness. A silence stretched out and all he could focus on was the press of your thighs against him. The consequences later would be the same thing if he kissed you again and he really, really wanted to.

But you spoke before he could do so, your voice breathy. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Certainly not.” A lie wouldn’t work if he wanted to but the admittance went without any move to disentangle himself from you.

“You’re married.”

“Technically.”

“Only technically?”

“It wasn’t too many days ago that my wife told me she didn’t care if I slept with every woman in town as long as her friends didn’t find out.”

The bitterness snuck into his voice though he tried to keep it neutral. They’d never had a trouble-free marriage but something about the admittance of that hurt the most. He’d imagined she cared somewhat about what he did. He’d been wrong.

You muttered a quiet breath, not really knowing how you should respond to that. Had he kissed you just to get back at her? No. That kiss had been building for a long time.

But whether true or not…

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Regardless of how Helen and I might fight, we are married in the eyes of the Lord and, perhaps more importantly, the church. If anybody thought I was having an affair, attendance would plummet.”

You winced but though you looked guilty, neither him nor you made any move to separate. He could feel the way your breath tickled his cheeks. If he wanted to, it would take no time to close the distance again. He did so briefly, his lips merely brushing against your own for a second that didn’t feel long enough.

“I don’t understand why I’d have these temptations if they’re supposedly wrong,” you said quietly. “Seems rather unfair.”

“I think most churches agree the devil is behind something like this.”

“I don’t believe that. Some things feel wrong but not this.”

He couldn’t deny your words. You’d been slowly drawing him to you from the day you first arrived, listened when he spoke and genuinely shown interest. If he’d been a younger man, a more unattached man, he’d have fallen for you in a second.

Even now, he worried he might have done just that when all he could think about was how soft your lips were.

You shifted away and he used the small strength it gave him to finally break whatever hold you had on him. His tie fluttered to the ground and you moved to pick it up, folding it around your hand and placing it gently on the desk.

He wanted to reassure you, smooth away the worries that were causing you to frown.

“Sorry,” you said, the word a strange break in the silence.

He was too. “We won’t speak about this again,” he said, forcing his voice to stay monotonous. “You’re welcome in the church but I think I can get along fine without further assistance.”

“Of course.”

You left quickly after that and he slowly sat back in his chair, picked up his tie and ran it through his fingers. He couldn’t go back on anything now. He’d married a woman who gave him no solace and then fallen prey to temptation. Temptation with its sweet taste and gentle words and casual conversation.

Was it lust alone or was it something entirely worse? His emotions were running far deeper than a simple physical appeal.

He put the tie in one of his drawers. He could still feel the taste of your lips against his skin.

You didn’t come back to the church. He hadn’t expected it but something still looked wrong when the back corner sat with spiders alone.

It didn’t matter if you were out of view though, his dreams more than made up for your absence. He prayed every night for forgiveness and yet you waited for him the moment he fell asleep, filled with laughter and flattery that left him yearning.

Was this his punishment? To feel the ghost of your fingers across his chest when he woke up in the middle of the night, his heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t imagine what else it might be. The Lord certainly wasn’t giving him any help with getting you out of his mind no matter how much he asked.

Helen wanted to know why you’d stopped coming by the church and he gave no reason though even the mention of your name felt nerve-racking.

If anybody noticed something was wrong with him, they didn’t mention it. He kept telling himself to hold out and wait for God to guide him in the right direction but when Flanders invited him to dinner, it felt like the divine was mocking him.

He steered his gaze away from your house when they arrived and almost dragged Helen through the front door to remove the temptation. The discussion was as dry as ever until Ned chuckled nervously.

“Something on your mind? You look very contemplative.”

He cleared his throat and brushed the concern off with a, hopefully convincing, wave. “Nothing too interesting. I’m merely considering how the lord helps us through all life’s troubles.”

Unless it was forgetting about the woman who lived next door. He could see her windows behind Ned if he tried to.

As ridiculous as it was, he wanted to speak to you about this. It felt as though nobody else would be able to offer him the advice or the acceptance he knew he’d get from you. Maybe if he took you out to that dinner you’d joked about a few weeks ago and he could just listen to your stories about work, he’d feel far better about it.

“Maybe if you focused more on him than your trains, he’d give you some better advice,” Helen said and he got dragged back in the conversation.

Did she really want to have this conversation now? In front of people who she knew valued their church sometimes too much.

“I sincerely doubt the Lord has a problem with my trains,” he said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to buy them in the first place.”

He could think of you in the same way, he imagined. The Lord guided you to Springfield and to the church. Nobody just wandered in to listen to a random sermon without his hand gently nudging them there but then that would mean the Lord allowed him to be tempted.

This was a dangerous line of thought.

Helen rolled her eyes subtly but not enough for anybody to miss it. “Well, at least it’s not as bad as what I hear Homer Simpson has been up to. Am I wrong in thinking he got fired yet again and is starting a new career venture?”

The question was directed at their hosts and Maude nodded her head. “It’s true. The noise from their house has been ridiculous but we always remember to just wait it out and see what happens. Often times, it’s less than a week before he somehow gets his job back.”

“Really, I wonder what kind of role model he’s setting for those children,” Helen said. “It’s just such a shame.”

“We shouldn’t judge,” he reminded her though he knew the words mattered not. He’d tried too often to get through to her with such reasoning. “We have no right to do so.”

“It’s not judgement,” Helen insisted. “I’m just worried about all the young and impressionable children around the neighbourhood. I couldn’t sit by and let them grow up believing that you can get through life being so lazy.”

The children of Springfield had far more issues than role models but he’d rather not fight so he just gave her a small head nod before he went back to his food. He imagined she’d continue speaking to Maude and the living room light behind them had just flicked on meaning you were home.

“Are you ignoring me?”

He turned his head back to the table, realising all eyes were on him. “No,” he said quickly, answering his wife without thought. “I was simply looking for a possible topic for this week’s sermon.”

She crossed her arms, staring at him with a disbelieving glare. “What are your options? The importance of being a good listener?”

“I was thinking more about the dangers of trivial gossip.”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “Knowing what’s going on around town is necessary. It helps us make sure we talk about relevant topics and keep our kids safe.”

“There aren’t any threats to the kids,” he said and Rod and Todd immediately sighed massively. Those two listened a little too seriously to the adults in their lives. It was why they were so panicked about everything.

“There most certainly are. Just look at what happened to Jessica. She’s such a smart girl you know and perfectly lovely but she fell in with the wrong crowd when she was younger and now look. It’s nothing the Lord can’t fix but it’s been so hard.” Helen swiped away non-existent tears from her face as she glanced at the others.

“Oh dear,” Maude said and immediately pulled her into a hug. “Has she been getting into more trouble at school?”

“She always does. It’s so hard on you as a mother to have a daughter who behaves like that. I tried my hardest to raise her right and I still don’t know where I went wrong.”

“It wasn’t anything you did wrong,” Maude said reassuringly. “Nobody has ever said children are easy and I know you’re doing your best. At least you’re not alone in this.”

“Sometimes it really feels like I am.”

She sniffed and dabbed her eyes and, though he knew he ought to feel sympathy for her or at least, irritation at her comment, he felt nothing. Jessica got worse by the day and nothing they did seemed to have an affect on her. The boarding school would undoubtedly throw her out again soon and then they’d need to find another.

They were all watching him, trying to tell if he would comfort his wife like he should or at least defend himself against her comments. He simply turned back to his food and tried to pretend the light wasn’t shining in his eyes.

Helen never cried unless there was somebody to witness it and give her sympathy. She was fine the second she realised he wouldn’t indulge her now.

He could really use a drink.

The Flanders kids didn’t eat dessert and instead begged for a movie which Helen happily agreed to join them for. She continued the front of the neglected wife until she grew bored and then immediately went back to talking about the nearby Simpson house while he slipped out the back door.

He knew he shouldn’t but he found himself walking toward the smaller house with its large maple tree and overgrown flowerbeds. Every step felt heavier than the last as the sounds of the movie gave way to small crickets.

You were lying beneath the tree on a picnic blanket, gaze on the sky and your dog at your side. He nearly left purely so he wouldn’t intrude but then you lowered your attention and met his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, a little confused. “Aren’t you missing your dinner?”

“I was just taking a break from it.”

You laughed. “Right. Ned can be overwhelming at times. I’m just waiting for the coffee machine to finish.”

He hummed and leaned against the fence. A gate led between them, likely how the two boys had continued to make friends with the racoon in your garden. He had no reason to want to open it.

“Would you like a cup?”

He should say no and return to his dinner party. Somebody would notice that he’d disappeared soon and, knowing Ned, might even lead a miniature search party looking for him.

Instead, he opened the gate and stepped through quietly.

Your house looked somewhat different than he imagined with blankets draped over the couch and too many appliances cluttered on the cabinets. The dog followed you in and sprawled itself over the tiled floors, forcing you to step over it to continue with your mission of making coffee.

“I wasn’t meant to sit outside tonight,” you admitted after you’d handed him a mug. “Ned invited me but I thought it’d be better to stay home. Couldn’t help myself, it seems.”

“I can hardly lecture you on self-control when you were in your backyard.”

“Especially not if I pretend that I had no ulterior motive.”

You hopped onto the kitchen counter, sitting with your back against the window as he leaned against the wall. It felt too personal to properly sit down but your choice of seating brought a slight flush to his cheeks.

“The church has been missing you,” he said, hurrying to change the topic and failing.

“I’m taking a small break from religion,” you said with a small laugh. “In case I get hit by lightning or something for only going to see the hot reverend.”

He scoffed but the flattery warmed his chest dangerously. This was precisely why he should have avoided coming over here. You were too good at making him want to start caring about things beyond the church. Too good at making him want to care more about you. He shouldn’t encourage it.

But you wanted his company and that was something he liked. You didn’t want him because he represented your faith or because you thought he provided you with some strange superiority.

You simply wanted to sit with your ankles crossed and a near-constant warmth radiating from your chest as you enjoyed your coffee.

“Was that too much?” you asked and he realised he’d been staring.

He shook his head. “The Lord brings us all to him through different means. If you come because you’re one of the few who enjoy listening to me speak, then that’s as good of a reason as any.”

“You have one of the biggest churches in town,” you pointed out. “I’m sure there are hundreds of people who enjoy listening to you.”

“Many attend church out of obligation and fear rather than desire.”

You pursed your lips as though laughing at a quiet joke. “Some would say that desire isn’t really the right reason to visit church.”

He rolled his eyes and pretended his cheeks hadn’t turned slightly red as he sipped his coffee. Had you ever made coffee for him before? He didn’t think so which meant you either guessed perfectly or you’d noticed when he’d made his own coffee.

“Either way, you’re still welcome to attend,” he reassured. “It forces me to come up with new sermons every week.”

“I won’t tell anybody if you don’t.”

You were right there and nobody else was around. If he wanted to make those damn dreams of his stop, all he needed to do was fulfill them, right?

His name being called stopped him. That was Ned. He regretfully placed his coffee on the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Was the man constantly trying to cause him as many issues as possible?

“If you go through the front door, you can tell them you were just returning my dog,” you said as you slipped off the table. “He gets out sometimes to flirt with that strange-looking scrawny one from down the street.”

It would be a good enough excuse. She opened the front door and he stepped through, hesitating for a second as he caught the desire to kiss you goodnight, as though you’d spent the evening together rather than a clandestine coffee after he ran away from a dinner party.

But you simply wished him a goodnight and closed the door, leaving him to deal with a flustered Ned in peace. At least your excuse worked.

He knew what he needed to do and before he prayed that night, he hesitated before he asked for guidance. Something like this would pull his reputation to pieces but it would be the right thing to do.

Helen didn’t look up when he walked into the kitchen the next morning as she paged through a book.

“We need a divorce.”

He said the words before he thought about them but she didn’t cry or get angry. She simply looked up at him and shrugged. “We’ve needed one since the first day you started playing with those ridiculous trains.”

And that was the end of the discussion.

He didn’t know how to feel about her admitting that she didn’t want to be married anymore either. His sermon two days later felt more awkward than ever as he looked at every member of his flock. How would they react if he admitted to getting a divorce? Would they shun him for such a thing?

To make things even worse for his train of thoughts, you slipped in about halfway through and took your seat in the back. He’d have lectured anybody else for being tardy but he just tripped over a word, leaving you to giggle.

He smiled, the smallest quirk of a grin, and this time, Helen noticed.

She’d probably been on high alert since his request but her head snapped back in an instant, her gaze locked on you and her lips pressed into a thin line.

After the sermon, they made it less than a minute into the drive home before she turned to him, far too smug for the situation.

“I knew it was her,” Helen said. “I guessed from the day she first showed up in this town.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid, Tim and you’re not subtle. You’re just lucky that everybody else in this town is practically brain damaged and haven’t noticed how you stare at her like some dog with its favourite bone.”

He could argue against it but even if he took offense to her comparison, he knew the right thing to do was come clean.

“I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes sharply. “Well, I suppose you did keep it mostly quiet. I haven’t heard any rumours going around town yet. I told you I don’t care if you’re sleeping around as long as that information stays here.”

“I haven’t slept with her.” He didn’t know what else to say. Defend himself or protest what she thought he would do. Though if it hadn’t been for that phone call…

“Why not? I mean, I guess she is very pretty so it makes sense that she might be looking elsewhere or did you start talking about trains in the bedroom again?”

He glanced at her, momentarily confused to find her genuinely making a joke. How many years had it been since she started a rumour just to marry him and move to this town? All the effort she put into crafting her image, thrown away so she could laugh about his possible affair as though it meant nothing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “Really, can you blame me? You’re so miserable all the time and the least you can do is make my life somewhat interesting. Give me more to talk about than how I sit in the house all day while my husband stares at toys.”

“They’re not toys.”

Helen waved a hand. “Whatever they are. I wanted to move away from that stupid house because I was bored and it’s been the same thing for the past, however many years. I’m still bored.”

He couldn’t help but feel bad about that. He’d never promised her a life filled with excitement but he knew she dreamed of it when they’d been younger. Maybe he could have been more interesting but he liked his life as it was: calm and peaceful as he could get it.

“You really haven’t slept with her?”

“No.”

Helen sighed. “That’s far less thrilling. Nobody will think my life is thrilling if my husband’s simply looking at another woman.”

“You’d ruin everything if you started spreading this around town,” he said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

She hummed and stared from the window. “I mean, it would be worse for you than for me but true, I don’t want to give the opinion that I’m an unwanted woman. Obviously, I’m not but I can’t allow anybody to try use it against me. Still… I do wish I had something more fun. Everybody else’s lives are filled with controversy.”

Since moving to Springfield, it had felt as though he was surrounded by a constant barrage of interesting characters – people whose lives could fill a thousand episodes of a television show without getting boring.

The most exciting thing he could say that he’d done in the entire week was rebuild part of his model when it got a little faded.

He glanced at Helen and sighed. “I kissed her. Once.”

Helen immediately snapped to him, looking far more interested. “I knew it! Was it on the day you two went to that little fair?”

“No.”

“Was it when you disappeared from dinner the other night?”

“No. I still don’t understand why you want details about this. We swore vows.”

She waved her hand through the air. “Yes, but these things are just so thrilling. You’re not the only one in this marriage who’s… considered other options.”

He stepped on the breaks a little too hard, the betrayal hitting him unexpectedly. This entire time, all the guilt and the concern were for nothing. She didn’t care about their marriage. She didn’t care about them.

“Tim, at least pull over if you’re going to be hypocritical. You’re blocking the traffic.”

He restarted the car, apologised to the drivers behind him, and tried not to think too hard about how long it had been since his marriage started drifting this far apart. It had always been slightly based on pretense but surely it hadn’t been like that from the beginning.

“When?”

“Once or twice over the years. You could hardly expect me to continue along when my husband cares more about trains than me. I’m not going to wait around and be ignored for years when there are others who show interest.” She giggled at the end as though recalling something.

“I don’t ignore you.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. The only time we stop fighting is when we aren’t talking to each other. Do you even remember the last time we slept together?”

He didn’t. Maybe six months ago? More? Helen often initiated those moments more than he did and as time went on, he’d grown less and less interested in her suggestions. Perhaps he should have considered it as a warning.

“What do we do now?”

Helen hummed thoughtfully. “Well, if you want to do me a favour, you can always let me call her out in the church. I’ll make a big scene and everything. People will be coming over for weeks to offer their condolences and I’m sure not too many people will hate her.”

“Absolutely not.”

Helen sighed. “Fine. I guess we’ll just continue pretending nothing happened. What else are we going to do? Get a divorce?”

They arrived at the house but when Helen got out, he didn’t move. His knuckles were turning white around the steering wheel as he considered his options. He could follow her into the house now and accept what she offered – pretend nothing had happened and continue doing things in secret. With Helen on his side, nobody should find out.

But he wouldn’t be happy and really, neither would she. God was far too merciful to force either of them to suffer through a relationship they wanted.

Helen looked over her shoulder at him, her hand on the knob of the front door.

She gave him a small smile and gestured for him to go, walked into the house, and closed the door behind her. He put the car into reverse without a moment’s hesitation.

You were home, he could see your car in the driveway as he parked alongside it. He knocked on the door as firmly as he could manage, constantly glancing over his shoulder as though expecting somebody to pop out. Why did this feel stranger now that he’d solved things? How long would it be until visiting you would be normal?

He really hoped it would be soon.

You opened the door, exasperated initially but expression quickly morphing into a smile when you noticed who it was. Sometimes, you looked at him as though he made your entire day better just by arriving.

“Hey,” you greeted. “Sorry I took so long to get to the door. Some of the kids around here are being incredibly irritating. I think they’re bored but honestly…” You rolled your eyes affectionately. “How can I help?”

“I’m getting a divorce.”

You went through at least ten different expressions before you settled on one, still blinking a little. He should have taken some time before reaching that part of the conversation.

“Oh. Do you want to come in?”

Your dog raised its head briefly at his entrance but promptly went back to snoring. He hovered uncertainly until you took a seat on the couch, following your guidance and then just staring at you and hoping the words came to mind.

“Helen and I got married because she told some of her friends we were sleeping together. We weren’t but I decided to salvage both our reputations and I thought it would be something we both wanted.”

“Was it?”

“Not at all. It would seem both her and I lied in front of the Lord that day when we swore our vows. I’m not the only one with a wandering eye, from what she’s said.”

You winced and he recognised the flash of acknowledgement in your expression. Things clicked together slowly.

“You knew.”

“Not for certain,” you hurried to defend yourself. “But I admit I was curious where I was circulating in the gossip hub. I heard some things about Helen through it and I didn’t want to believe them, really. Of course, I can’t judge given the uh, main reason I asked in first place.”

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. How had he gone for so long without noticing how truly unhappy everything in his life was? He’d constantly thought it was just something he had to handle; he’d made his choice and now he had to accept whatever came with it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “For what it’s worth. I was stupidly selfish.”

“You weren’t the only one. It appears I’m quite the fool.”

You smiled and shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t say that at all though I admit, I’m a little biased when it comes to you.”

He chuckled, a small sound without much humour. “At least I’ve realised now. We’ve all made mistakes and the Lord will surely forgive me this one and then… after everything has quietened after the divorce, perhaps we can go somewhere together?”

“If we don’t wait long enough, people might guess there was something between us.”

“They’ll know. Helen isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

“Right.”

He raised his head to watch you. “Does it bother you? That people might know about what happened?”

You thought about it for less than a minute before you shook your head. “No, not really. I’m just happy that I can be with you in any sense of the word. Even if we’re just friends, I’ll be thrilled.”

There was no way you would be his friend. He reached up to brush your hair away from your face before he finally kissed you once more, sweet and soft. You hummed pleasantly against his lips and he relaxed, sure now that he’d decided correctly even if it wasn’t going to be easy.

When he arrived home and placed the papers in front of Helen, she looked down at them and started laughing. His shoulders tensed but before he could worry, she pulled an identical copy from her own purse.

It was the first time they’d laughed together in years and he actually felt a strange excitement he hadn’t experienced since first moving to this town.

#the simpsons fanfiction #the simpsons #reverend lovejoy #the simpsons x reader #reverend lovejoy x reader

[squidproquoclarice]

Yeehawgust Day 8: Mean as a Snake

December 1874

San Francisco, California

His father’s hand was hard on his shoulder, but then, it always was.  But at least this time it was a grip to get attention.  “Now, Arthur,” he said, “you know what to do.”

“But…”  Arthur shook his head, looking at the row of horses in the stable.  This was no hayseed town in the middle of nowhere.  This was a bustling city, and it felt like eyes were everywhere for most things.  They’d been living mostly off his pickpocketing for the three weeks since they’d gotten here, because the opportunities for that were much greater.  Kids especially seemed invisible, it seemed.  But he’d sensed–and felt the effects of–his father’s rage growing higher and higher with each passing day with no score of his own, and with the food dwindling.  Especially with the winter cold that cut through both of them.  Lyle Morgan was mean as a snake at the best of times, and mean as the devil himself at the worst.  This had slid more towards the worst, no question.

“I don’t think it’s a good score, Daddy.  There’s too many folk about.”  Stealing a horse?  That was so visible compared to lifting something from a shop stall, or even his daddy luring someone into an alley to relieve them of their money.  And of course he knew his father’s eye had fallen on some of the best of the lot, and the sight of the shaggy, shabby man riding a prize horse?  No, that wouldn’t cause any attention at all, would it?  Where did his father think they would sell that horse anyway?  They’d have to go clear across the city at least.

“I don’t ask what you think, stupid boy,” Lyle hissed, his grip hardening, twisting into Arthur’s shoulder, fingers digging in sharply.  “We’d both have starved years gone already, if we left it up to your brains.  Now keep watch and do as you’re told.”  He let go, and left Arthur to watch the ends of the lane behind the saloon.

He rubbed his shoulder, knowing it would bruise come morning.  Tucked himself back against the wall a ways down from the horses and scanned one end of the lane, and then the other, keeping a careful eye out for anyone looking their way.  Knowing also he’d be expected to draw any attention away if it did come.  Oh, he knew his job, all right.

He never could say, in all the years to come whether some part of him had actually wanted it to happen and stayed silent, whether it was sudden terror that came over him, or whether it was just pure shitty luck that made it happen.  Maybe all three.  But a policeman passed by, and peered down the alleyway, and before Arthur knew it, he’d raised the alarm, blowing his whistle.  A shrill sound pierced the winter night.  Ignored the boy against the wall, like most people did, and went right to the man struggling with the reins of the pretty chestnut mare.

Arthur stood, and saw it all happen.  Nothing he could do.  He couldn’t fight an armed policeman, and there was no distraction at this point that would work.  But he didn’t run away either.  If his pa got loose, and Arthur had run…God, the beating he’d take for that would make every other one look like a lark.  His father didn’t look at him, but he said, voice laced with raw fury, “You useless little shit.  You couldn’t even do that one thing right, could you?”  Said it in Welsh, so the policeman didn’t understand, and Arthur couldn’t know if he’d done that deliberately to not call attention to the boy standing there, or merely just him reverting to his native tongue in his rage.  “They’ll hang me for this, and on your head be it.”   

Arthur knew.  Horse theft was no joke.  But he couldn’t do much with the thought that this here was the end of it for Lyle Morgan, that Arthur’s own life would now never be the same.  Couldn’t do much of anything.  Felt like his mouth and his legs and his mind all had frozen right there, and all he could do was watch.

The lawman replied, “Yeah, whatever.  Tell it to the judge,” hauling Lyle upright and forcing him to walk down the alley.  

Arthur watched them go, and it was only minutes later that it felt like his trembling legs unfroze enough for him to finally run.  Where to, he didn’t know.  Only away, and that would have to be enough for the moment.

#yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2022 #arthur morgan #lyle morgan #rdr2 #cw: child abuse

[kirisakin]

Oh yes, please explain the Flamewar thing if thats okay?? 😭

Okay, so once upon a time there was a Transformers fan named Raksha. A grown woman in her late 20s that loved G1 Transformers and the Decepticons. She loved them so much that she wrote multiple spanning essays about how the Autobots were evil oppressors that were trying to drive them to extinction and that the Deceptions were “innocent, noble creatures” that were just trying to survive this horrible onslaught on their lives.

Keep in mind this was the early 1990s. We didn’t have Transformers IDW1 phase 2 or Shattered Glass or Animated or the Aligned continuity yet. We only had the Marvel US and UK comics, the cartoon, a few picture books and tapes, the fan-subbed and terribly English dubbed Japanese cartoons, and untranslated manga.

There’s a couple bits and pieces here that humanize the cons in the same way the bots were in the show, but nothing implying they were secretly “noble” unless you counted the untranslated Victory manga showing Esmeral, Lyzack, and the Baby Dinoforce. Again, it was the early 1990s. I highly doubt the internet was that capable of hosting scans of books, let alone translations of scans of books. All of this was pulled out of her headcanons, basically.

And no headcanon was greater than the headcanon that Nightbird was sapient.

Nightbird was the first ever female robot Transformer, something that no doubt embittered Raksha to the more popular and more noteworthy Arcee when she fell by the wayside. Raksha had plans for Nightbird, and the unassuming little ninja robot would be the centerpiece of what she insisted was the true story of “Enter The Nightbird.”

You see, in Raksha’s eyes, Nightbird was fully sapient. Whether it was from her creation or from the kindly Decepticons modifying her, it didn’t matter. Nightbird had a mind, a brain, a heart, and she could use them to great effect. Megatron fell deeply in love with her beauty and desired to make her his mate by sending her to sabotage their evil oppressors, the Autobots. The Autobots were in the wrong for trying to bring back Nightbird, as this would be forcing her into a life of slavery, and they cared not for her emotions. Noble Starscream shot her to save her from this horrible life and keep her from being used for selfish human whims, feigning jealousy to trick the Autobots. But before she was sealed away, Nightbird reawoke, full conscious once again in silent defiance of her captors…

Or that’s how the story went for her. Yeah, she really got mad at people that didn’t ship Megatron and Nightbird, or worse, thought Megatron was gay.

That wasn’t the only thing she had to pitch a fit about. She fucking loathed Beast Wars with a fiery passion and likewise spent thousands of words of critique (read: spitting and screeching that it wasn’t G1) towards the show. I’ve heard secondhand stories that she apparently went out of her way to harass the Beast Wars voice actors that showed up at Transformers conventions due to her hatred of the series, but I can’t verify these claims; after all, these events took place nearly 3 decades ago and I heavily doubt someone had a camcorder or a voice recorder on hand to get juicy deets of fandom drama. The closest thing I could find was David Kaye offhandedly mentioning overhearing about how much she hated the show.

So the fandom and many writers at Hasbro were not fans of her for these reasons. The Beast Wars writers joked about naming blank protoforms “Rok-Shaans” but dropped it because they thought it was punching down. 3H, the first indie comic to gain the TF license, made a fan-script for an episode where Beast Wars Megatron said Raksha was his greatest foe. All good-natured ribbing at someone who was being disproportionately rude about something they didn’t like.

But noted production consultant Ben Yee went higher. He created the character of Flamewar, a villainous female Cybertronian who still identified as a Decepticon despite the Predacons having long since taken over. She was completely obsessed with Megatron to the point of impersonating him after his demise, and when she couldn’t find any other bots to cling to, she hitched her cart to whatever side thought would get her ahead. But it’s totally not Raksha! We promise!

TL; DR A woman that’s probably nearing 60 right now has the dubious legacy of a character based on the nasty, rotten things she said to other people because she was mad they didn’t think Megatron was an innocent cupcake that just wanted a hot ninja girlfriend. She’s also probably the driving force behind Nightbird getting a bunch of toys and her appearance in Rise of the Beasts.

What a fucking tale, for better or for worse.

#Imagine being Ben Yee and the character you made to mock a bully is drawing with heaving tits. #Okay to reblog BTW.

[keefwho]

September 29 - 2023 Friday

6:31pm

I'm doing this funny little thing I do, and used to do to a much greater extent. My tummy is a little bit upsetti tonight but not a lot, something I'd consider normal even. But sometimes I'm susceptible to thinking about worst case scenarios. In this case I don't even know what that is. I know I can't be sick. It's almost impossible that it's food poisoning. So I don't know what I'm afraid of. Feeling bad I guess? Also I'm worried this headspace will carry over to tomorrow when it will really matter since I'm getting my groceries. I told myself I have to go no matter what and thats what I intend to do. I know there is nothing to be afraid of. My "fears" are always unrealistic and obscure. Tomorrow I intent to keep that in mind when I gotta go to town. It's only a 3.5 hour trip, not actually a long time. As shown last time, I can easily go that amount of time without having to use the bathroom which is something I'm nervous about. Only because I really don't want to use a public restroom unless its just to pee maybe.

I know tomorrow I'll be okay. My brain tricks me into thinking that suffering will last forever or will always get worse. I need to remember that I'm being lied to.

11:47pm

Today was okay, I was worried I wouldn't stay on task like the past couple of days but planning exactly what I was going to do in the morning paid off. Breakfast was a bologna sandwich with baked beans. I also woke up to a pretty decent scan of my room that rendered overnight so that's good, still tidying it up though. The stream went okay, I got pretty frustrated at both the YCH I had to do and my friend who is always correcting me on basically everything. It's something I've noticed for awhile and today it was bothering me. We watched the final episode of Courage which made me tear up more than I thought it would.

After stream I did a very good job cleaning. I put away my clothes, wiped down my entire kitchen area, and vacuumed. Right after I did my whole workout very diligently. Lunch was a bowl of tuna spaghetti while I watched the Fionna and Cake finale. The show in general blew my mind and gave so much grand lore that I wanted. It also left a lot open in a way that is obviously set up to explore later.

I admit I didn't do all my afternoon work but I didn't feel the need to. I did some good sketching and my friend wanted me to play Roblox with him which I also wanted to do since I knew he wouldn't be playing long. So we did that for a little bit before I left the call and was just chilling. My tummy started behaving weird around this point. I was basically waiting for Daisy to be free because I wanted to chill before VR and play my new game Tiny Atolls. She alerted me when she got in VR and then we had a nice little night of hopping places. It seems like neither of us knew what we wanted to do at first. We tried a couple Halloween mazes which were meh and tried joined off some people. My tummy hurt and I didn't quite feel the socializing mood but it got better. At around the time we were in the Namco museum I started to get in the right mood and had a lot of fun. At some point 570 joined and we hopped a couple places before getting off for the night. Daisy watched me play my new game as she went to sleep and it was cozy.

I'm not feeling so nervous about tomorrow anymore since I feel better now. I also know this can't keep being a problem, it just can't be. I have to get over it eventually to the point where it won't even be a second thought. So I'm trying not to get into a weird headspace where I overthink. Tomorrow I'm gonna wake up and shower like usual before doing a chore not much harder than any other. It has it's own benefits too like how interesting it is to see other people for once and I get nice things like a coke icee and fast food. Last time went smoothly so that gives me my hope for tomorrow. I also always have Daisy I can text if things get iffy. I'm not trapped.

I really want to get better about knowing what I want to do. I don't want to be boring, I want to be able to be the entertaining one if I have to be. The one that can find something to do when there are no other ideas. I think I usually know the kinds of things I want to do but I instinctively dismiss them.

#diary #journal #anxiety

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 220

There’s No Place Like Home/Listen

And we’re back!! I’m 36, I cannot be staying up til 4am hoping that and then celebrating that a singer will announce an album three time zones away. It completely fucked my everything for DAYS. I’m gonna have to do three days in a row with two episodes…it’s fine. This is fine.

“There’s No Place Like Home”

Plot Description: after Sam stumbles across a video of Charlie Bradbury attacking a district attorney, the brothers track her down to find out why she’s back from Oz

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I guess so? No one died…and I wouldn’t do anything to make Charlie mad like that

Dean, do you really think drinking green smoothies instead of eating burgers is going to fend off the effects of the mark?

OBSESSED with Dean wanting to go clean so as not to draw the attention of the mark but then still adds a blade to his personal arsenal. Are you kidding me?

Oh…this has to do with the accident that took Charlie’s parents from her

Dean’s so miserable on this diet

Wt ACTUAL FUCK has happened to Charlie??

HELLO?? A duplicate Charlie?? Mmm, this is her literally unleashed dark side

Sam, did you not hear the part where she’s all good Charlie? She can’t hack into someone else’s bank account

This feels like a bad plan…Dean’s a bit of an unstoppable and unstable killing machine, I can’t really trust that he’s not going to be able to refrain from slicing and dicing bad Charlie (which WILL hurt good Charlie)

I like this reasearch side plot they have Sam and good Charlie doing into fixing the key to go back to Oz. Hope it’s not all for nothing!!

UM. RUDE. You can’t tell how much money a person actually has by the clothes they choose to wear

I don’t trust bad Charlie, and I DEFINITELY don’t trust her handing Dean YET ANOTHER blade (even if she doesn’t know the effect it could have)

Yeah, I could have told you she’d stab him or at least find a way to kill the drunk driver

Excuse me?!?! The Wizard of Oz is this old Man of Letters dark side version?? This show is ridiculous

So…both bad and good Charlie are allowed to kill people?? And like blah blah greater good blah blah he forgave her but….she still very much killed him. That happened. Even if you don’t subscribe to a religion that follows the ten commandments, it’s still very much against the law for GOOD REASON.

Yeah, Dean forgot if you hurt one Charlie, you also hurt the other. Yeah, Dean. Think about how, even though she’s not dead, you literally have Charlie’s blood on your hands

Uggghhhhh the fact that she’s now scared of Dean is an unfortunate turn. It’s completely understandable but it SUCKS

Ok…she kinda got over that a little fast. But she also knows that Dean’s not gonna forgive himself for this

���Listen”

Plot Description: Ghosts of the past and future crowd into the lives of the Doctor and Clara

Doc, you need to get Clara back on this spaceship time machine. You’re going a little mad all by yourself, sweetie. Though, I suppose you’re not ACTUALLY all by yourself…SOMETHING wrote “listen” on that board

Omg this date is so awkward. You know…this should be a sign to never date someone you meet at work, but that’s like…all I’ve ever done, except once

Oh. This was a mistake. Watching this this close to bedtime…the whole what if you’re never really alone? What if there really is something living under your bed? What if everyone has that dream because it actually happened? But I know what’s under my bed. Storage bins with t-shirts and purses and the like

DOCTOR…why are we bringing Clara to meet herself since it could be so catastrophic?

Ah…it’s not her we’re meeting, it’s Danny, her coworker who she went out on a date with and was trying to call her when she was having her memories scanned by the TARDIS

This is a weirdly heavy handed episode…

Time travelers stop interacting with the child versions of your love interests challenge: impossible

Since when can the Doctor put people to sleep by touching their forehead???

Are people really that interested in what they look like from the back?? Clara just did it, it happened in a movie in [fandom redacted].

Ooooo now Clara’s striking out on her date with Danny…as the Doctor calls…you know, what if it’s not the Doctor?? Um what?? Ok, it wasn’t the Doctor but it WAS a descendant of Danny’s coming to collect Clara FOR the Doctor

Terrifying that the entire universe is dead but something out there still scares Orson

The Doctor’s “people skills” are “rusty” while asking Clara about her date

I was about to fall asleep (I’m still very tired)c but then something started knocking on the door to this time machine and/or space ship so omg I hate this so much. I don’t like feeling this scared. This is such a primal fear

Fuck. Flu away. Vworp vworp NOW.

Well NOW how far back did you go??? And why are you now …….. um what?? You’re now under the Doctor’s bed when he was a child?? Clara. You just became the reason everyone has that dream?? Are you kidding me?!?!

Holy shit. The barn Clara is meeting the Doctor as a child in is also the one where the War Doctor, Ten, and Eleven save Gallifrey in???

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

[hauntedestheart]

InstaSpy (FxM Body Swap)

Synopsis: An undercover mission ends a secret agent’s career in a way he never quite expected.

When a kidnapping ring began targeting upper class children the elite circles of blue bloods knew better than to go to the government about it, instead they went to “The Agency,” a covert operations organization so top secret it didn’t need a more descriptive name. Unfettered by the law and with access to technology hidden from the rest of the world, The Agency was a global powerhouse 

Unfortunately, this case had them stumped. Kidnappings were always tricky because they, by nature, are also hostage crises. Even if The Agency could find the location of the kidnapper’s secret hideout (which they’d been unable to do, the tracks were always covered too well) they would need to get someone on the inside first to free the kidnapped victims first. Ordinarily this would be accomplished by setting a mole up to be captured, but these kidnappers were too smart and had seen through their every attempt. The Agency was in an unwinnable position.

However in a lucky break, a goon captured by The Agency had spilled that the ring’s next target was one Amelia Ballard, daughter of a wealthy megaconglomerate CEO, and Agency strategists came up with a bold but unorthodox plan.

Previous attempts had seen The Agency attempting to fabricate backstories for Agents to trick the ring in to targeting them, but the kidnappers had always seen through this ruse. These people would only go for a tried and rich kid... which is exactly what The Agency would give them.

The plan was simple: An Agency scientist had developed a machine that could swap consciousnesses between bodies, which could be used to plant the mind of an agent inside of Amelia Ballard. This would give the Agency the man on the inside that they needed while (technically) posing minimal risk to a civilian.

The Agent selected for the mission was named Elias Thompson (or “Agent E” as he was called), who had saved the world more times than he could count on his fingers. But it wasn’t his reputation that got him selected for the mission, it was his age: at just 26 years old he was the youngest Agent on the field, which had convinced the higher ups that he would be the idea Agent to pass himself off as an heiress.

Elias had been a bit confused when he’d scanned Amelia’s file: other than their ages, the two had little in common. The 23 year old woman was a flighty socialite who’d never worked a day in her life and spent her days jetting around on her father’s dime and posting tacky photos documenting her cushy life. By contrast Elias was as straight laced as they came; having been raised in the Agency, work was all he knew.

Still, Elias was a professional and he’d accepted the mission (not that he’d ever really had a choice). He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of becoming a woman and pretending to be a vapid airhead for an indefinite period of time, but he swallowed his complaints and told himself it was for the greater good.

Amelia had been similarly displeased, and she handled it far less well. Her father had insisted that she undergo the process for her own safety but that hadn’t stopped her from throwing a childish tantrum the day of the switch before entering into the machine, and it had only grown worse once she’d come out the other side in Elias’s body. 

Her exact words had been “smelly,” “hairy,” and “nasty,” and they’d had to sedate her to prevent her from kicking up an even bigger fuss. (Elias noted with some pride that even without him in it, his body had put up a hell of a fight.) The Agency workers in the room had had a good chuckle at the sight of the usually stoic Agent E behaving like a petulant child, but they’d assured the real Elias that his body was in good hands and Amelia would have access to counseling to help her cope with the shift.

And so the mission began. Elias had been taken, just as they had planned, but he hadn’t expected his kidnappers to be so thorough in their search of him and they’d taken away the hidden tools he’d been planning to use for his escape. In the end it took him over a month of captivity to finally find an opportunity to strike, but when he had, he struck hard. By the time Agent E was through with them, all of the criminals were in custody and likely to go away for a very long time.

It had been hard work, and dangerous, but Elias was a true professional who was always glad for an opportunity to serve his country. Still, he was looking forwards to getting back to The Agency, back to his body, and back out on another mission.

Or so he thought...

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

“What do you mean it’s been requisitioned?” Elias shrieked at the lab tech, wincing at how shrill he sounded. Over a month later he still wasn’t used to how high his voice was, nor did he think he wanted to be used to it. “I only agreed to swap bodies with this woman for this one mission.”

“Command came from high up the food chain,” The sympathetic looking employee replied. She pressed some buttons and a memo appeared on the high-tech screen. “Your mission is officially listed as cleared but I’m under instructions to not reverse the swap.”

Elias scanned the forms and it confirmed what the woman had said. Still... “They aren’t allowed to do this!” He protested.

“Actually we are,” The screen before Elias flickered to life and was filled the face of Tessa, the mid-level Agency director who was his direct superior. Elias’s training kicked in and he immediately straightened to attention at the sight of her, and she smiled dispassionately at him. “Hello Agent E, welcome home. I imagine you’re experiencing some confusion.

“You’re bloody right I am!” He said, his anger causing his usual unflappable decorum to slip. “What’s this I’m reading about my body being ‘requisitioned?’ Why am I not getting it back?”

“Agency heads have determined that your body would be of more use as a financial asset than as a field asset,” Tessa responded mechanically, as if she were reciting this from memory. “As such it will not be returned to you and will remain in possession of Amelia Ballard.”

“Financial asset?” Elias asked, confused. “Director, please, talk to me like I’m a person. What does that mean?”

“It means that a non-insignificant amount of money has exchanged hands to ensure that you stay exactly as you are,” Elias swallowed nervously, and Tessa’s eyes shot right to his throat. She could always tell exactly what he was feeling. “Really, you’ve done us a great favor. It hurts us to have one of our top agents out of commission like this but the funds that this exchange secures will be invaluable to our cause.”

“But this my body we’re talking about!” Elias shouted. “You can’t just take it away, it’s not a piece of company property!”

Tessa looked down at him condescendingly. “It is and it always has been. From the moment you signed on with this agency you took an oath to use yourself as a tool for the greater good of our society,” She was reciting a portion of the oath, and Elias grimaced. Picking up on his frustration, Tessa sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

“Listen, Agent E, the Agency has taken good care of you and will continue to do so. But this is out of even my hands now, the contracts have already been signed and I looked them over personally and they’re airtight.” She seemed genuinely apologetic, but if anything that just made Elias more upset. If they knew this was wrong, why were they still doing it? “Don’t worry, we’ll find another place for you in The Agency.”

“I don’t want to find another place, I want to be me again,” He hissed. “If you don’t fix this, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Tessa quirked an eyebrow at him, and he quieted down. “Go to the police and tell them that your body has been snatched by a shadowy agency? Even if they believed you, you know that local government is in our pockets. Be reasonable Elias, and have a little dignity.”

“You’ve taken away all of my dignity!” He cried out, gesturing down at his very female body. His mind whirled as he tried to figure out a way out of this solution, and only one presented itself to him. “I need to talk to Amelia right now.”

Tessa smirked, as if she knew something funny but wasn’t telling him. Elias didn’t like that, but he had no other choice. 

“You’re free to do so if you please, I believe you’ll find her by the safe house pool,” She said. “You’re dismissed to go and speak to her but please head to the debriefing room once you’re through. There’s still some things we need to take care of.”

“I’ll be there, and I’ll be there looking like me,” Elias said confidently, and with a salute he turned and stomped off .

Tessa smiled sadly at him, and her face flickered away.

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

Amelia in Elias’s old body had been sequestered in the Agency compound’s safe house, a decadent piece of property designed to keep their often upper class wards content. Though Elias found the place ostentatious he had always admired the large swimming pool, and apparently Amelia agreed because she was currently floating in the middle of it on a ridiculous pool floaty.

Elias was momentarily taken aback by seeing his body in such a relaxed state; arms folded behind his head, sunglasses on, a beer by his side, it was a picture of serenity. It was like looking into an alternate reality; the real Elias would never waste a day laying around in the sun.

Time to get back to normal, he thought to himself. “Ms. Ballard!”

The version of him in the pool lolled its head over and lowered its sunglasses, squinting at him through the sunlight. Then, Amelia’s face lit up with recognition, and she waved at him.

“Oh my god! Hi! One sec,” Taking one final swig of her beer, she discarded her sunglasses and then slipped from her flotation device into the water. With broad, powerful strokes she swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted herself up, looking like a scene from a commercial as water dripped off of the super spy’s body and his muscles gleamed in the light. 

Elias took a moment to observe himself from the outside and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his body still in one piece and still in shape. His body was a finely tuned instrument of nothing but lean, powerful muscle, and he relied on his strength in mission situations to pull off tricky stunts and fight endless hordes of faceless minions. Visions of returning to find his form broken to bits or horrendously out of shape had haunted his nightmares but thankfully it looked just as good as the day he’d left it- if anything, it looked even better. 

His skin was practically glowing with the healthy tan he’d never quite had time to develop (spending a lot of time in underground lairs and secret labs didn’t do wonders for the complexion), a fact that was highlighted by a conspicuous lack of body hair. Had she... waxed him? By contrast she’d let his hair grow out (long hair was a liability in his line of work so he kept it to a strict military cut) and floppy, boyish cut gave him a distinctly “prettier” appearance. Clearly she had been pampering him with some of that “self-care” that his coworkers were always blathering on about.

Well, he thought, at least I know she’s been taking care of my body.

“Oh my god, you’re back!” She shook out her hair (a pointless amount of hair, Elias though) and snatched up a towel, using it to pat her face dry. “Cute, how was it?”

“The mission was a complete success, the kidnapping ring has been completely dismantled and all of the hostages have been rescued,” He reported dutifully. “You and your family shouldn’t have any more problems with them.”

“That’s so cool, I love that,” She smiled and nodded at him, then returned her attention to toweling off.

He frowned at the way she was holding his body– her more feminine body language and gestures seemed out of place on his masculine form and it made him appear as if he were a bitchy gay man. He didn’t like that one bit, nor did he like the look on her face. She seemed… a bit too content to be swanning around in his body. He waited for her to say something else, but it seemed like she had already forgotten that he was there.

“Well, we thank you for your service,” Elias cleared his throat and continued, trying to keep the conversation moving in the proper direction. “But given that there’s no present danger I think it’s about time we got back into the lab and reversed the swap so both of us can get on with our lives. Shall we?” He gestured back towards the Agency building in the distance, and Amelia fixed a bewildered look upon him.

“Oh yeah about that,” She bit her lip and cocked her head to the side slightly like a confused puppy. “I thought someone was going to talk to you about that. I’ve decided I don’t wanna switch back anymore so we’re just gonna stay like this, okay?”

Elias blinked in disbelief, a bit taken aback by how casually she had said that. Still, he had faith in his training and knew he could get through this if he could just get all the facts and formulate a plan. He drew himself up to his full height (his current body was significantly shorter than his true body, which irked him to no end, but every inch counted) and smiled charmingly at her.

“Someone did mention something to that affect to me, yes,” He admitted. “But I wanted to speak to you personally. Don’t you want your body back?”

“Mm, not really,” Amelia said flatly. “I like yours.” She smiled at him, and he repressed a shiver.

“What?” He sputtered, but then quickly recovered. “But as I recall you ,were furious about the swap when it happened! Surely you’re eager to return to the body you grew up in.”

She giggled but the bubbly, girlish sound was strange in his deeper voice. “Oh my god I was sooo pissed off, wasn’t I? That whole body swap thing was so inconvenient for me, I had to cancel all my plans and everybody thought that I was kidnapped. It was embarrassing as hell. But then I did some deep breathing and decided to take some words of advice from my idol Kendall Jenner and just tried to make the best out of the bad situation.”

“That’s when I realized something: you’re actually a really hot guy,” As she said this she placed one hand on his chest and ran it over his pecs, rubbing them shamelessly in front of him. Elias choked. “I would totally have banged you, I just didn’t realize it at first because you had no sense of style. So I decided to make you my new project!”

“Project?” He grimaced, not liking the implications of this one bit. “What have you done to me?”

She began listing things. “Let’s see, well first off I started using real shampoo and conditioner (I cannot believe you actually used two in one, that’s like, a hate crime) and grew your hair out because the military thing was not working for you. Then I went to the spa and got a full deep pore exfoliation treatment which trust me, you needed. I did some manscaping too, teeth whitening, eyebrow shaping, a mani/pedi obviously… it was hard work but it was so worth it for the glow up. Oh, and check this out!”

She twisted her body sideways and stuck Elias’s ass out into the air, and Elias blinked in confusion. He knew his body inside and out and that was definitely NOT what his bottom had looked like when he’d left it! The red fabric of the swimsuit clung to his butt cheeks almost obscenely and it seemed perkier somehow; fuller. It’s not like Elias’s ass had been flat before, he was dedicated to keeping in shape, but this was… something else.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, finally breaking his cool.

“It’s nice, right?” Amelia grinned, mistaking his shock for praise. She slapped her hand onto his firm butt and squeezed it shamelessly. “I think the gains are really starting to show. Honestly I was completely gagged the first time I took your clothes off, you’ve got a total rig going on. My trainer and I have developed a great workout plan that’s gonna take me to the next level though, we’re taking this from hot to fuck-me-sideways gorgeous.”

On the word “this” she gestured to his body and when Elias’s eyes focused in he realized his entire body had undergone such subtle changes as his ass had. His lean frame was starting to bulk up a bit: thicker biceps, tighter abs, more prominent pecs. These were show muscles she was developing, not true strength training, and he now resembled a model rather than someone trained for combat. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that the look did suit him, but it was an impractical build for a spy and he’d have to spend time whipping himself back into shape once he returned.

“I don’t wanna get too big of course,” She added, flexing one of his arms and poking at the muscle with her other hand. “I’m not trying to be a body builder or anything like that but I think there’s so much potential here.”

“Potential?” Elias gaped at her audacity. “You know I’ve snapped a man’s neck with those hands, swum through a hundred feet of water on a single breath to escape a sinking underwater research facility. My body is at the peak of is potential because it is trained for utility, not aesthetics.” 

“And I totally love that for you, that’s super cute,” She said dismissively, still engrossed in examining her body. “But this is me we’re talking about, and I have higher standards,” She lifted her eyes back up and looked at Elias again, but he noted that her hands were still petting his abs. “Oh anyways I was telling a story: so after making your body presentable I decided it was time to go public with the change and I made new socials. My old brand was getting boring and this was exactly the shakeup that I needed. I got into contact with my team and gave them the tea on the situation–”

“This is highly classified technology we’re dealing with!” He interjected, and she rolled her eyes dismissively.

“Okay and?” She flicked her head back as if she still had long hair. “They’re a social media management company, do you think they care? The point is they hooked me up with some sponsors, helped me boost my following, and now I’m kinda blowing up! So obviously I can’t leave your body now, it’s important to my brand now.”

She grabbed a phone from a poolside table and unlocked it, going straight to Instagram. She held the phone up for him to see and he snatched it from her hand (his hand, he reminded himself) and glared at the screen: just as she’d said, the follower count was astronomically high. 

His stomach churned with disgust as he scrolled through the page. Photos of his body wearing trendy clothes and sipping on (sponsored) tea, videos of him in the gym working out, and many, many images of him in various states of undress. Out of morbid curiosity he clicked on a post and saw the comments section was full of complete strangers thirsting over his toned body. 

The account was all shallow thirst traps without a shred of substance, it was humiliating and could blow his cover as an agent! How was he supposed to go on covert missions when there were pictures of him plastered all over the internet? This was NOT what his body was meant for! Rage bubbled up inside of him and though he did his best to swallow it, the anger began to get the best of him.

“So this is what’s so important, huh? Your master plan?” He seethed. “To just go around posting half-naked pictures of my body?”

“Of course not,” She said defensively, then a wicked grin contorted the handsome face she was wearing. “There are naked ones too, I’m not a tease. Premium, of course.”

“WHAT?” He screamed, his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Videos too,” She purred, and Elias did not like the sound of his voice purring. “Come on, you’ve seen your dick. It would be a waste not to show it.”

“My penis?” He paled. “Oh god, you mean you’ve–“

“Yeah of course I’ve played with your dick?” She said matter-of-factly. “Obvi. I’ve been in your body for over a month, was I just supposed to pretend like it wasn’t there? It’s… kinda hard to ignore, if you know what I mean.” She shook her hips side to side for a moment and smirked at the sight of the bulge jiggling in her wet shorts. He felt like she was taunting him.

“But don’t you miss being a woman?” He asked hopefully, grasping at any straw he could to try and get his body back.

“What would I miss? Wearing dresses, putting on makeup? Newsflash, it’s the 21st century. I can still all those things and have a huge dick,” She chuckled. “Look at me now: I’m tall, hot, popular, boys are throwing themselves at me, and having a dick is really fun. I thought it was kinda weird at first but now I’m fully obsessed with it,” To emphasize her point she thrust her hands down the front of her shorts, groaning a little bit as she cupped his genitals in her hands. She rolled them around a bit. “It helps that your is so nice, like, I’ve seen a lot of dicks and this is exactly the kind of dick that I’d want.”

“Get your hands out of there, stop touching me!” He cried out in horror, the final straw finally breaking him. She rolled her eyes, but withdrew her hand.

“God you’re such a prude, ugh,” She grumbled.

“What does your father think about all this?” He blurted out, attempting a different approach. “I can’t imagine he’s pleased with his daughter suddenly deciding that she wants to be a strange man, let alone one who does... this.”

“Daddy always wants me to be happy,” She replied with a shrug. “Who do you think arranged this? He always wanted a son anyways so when I told him I wanted to keep you he pulled some strings. He’s already had the lawyers file a bunch of adoption papers and stuff to make my new body officially a member of the family, and I think he said he was cutting the one you’re in off though so heads up about that.”

Elias was growing increasingly panicked, he was used to weaseling his way out of seemingly impossible situations but he was afraid he’d met his match here.

“Look, I’ll be completely frank with you, this is a bit bigger than just you and I. I’m a secret agent who saves the country on the regular and this,” He gestured towards the body he was in, soft from a lifetime of pampering. “Is a liability. I need that body back, I can’t do my job without it!”

“I mean, neither can I?” She looked down at him with contempt, and he hated she was taller than him now. “This face is my brand now, I’m finally getting the career I’ve always wanted and I’m not giving it up now.”

“You can still post slutty pictures in this body!” He said frustratedly. “I don’t understand why you can’t just go back to what you were doing before all of this!”

“I was a flop before all of this!” She said, and her voice broke as if she were opening up about some deep trauma of hers. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. 

“I know you think that because I’m a rich, beautiful heiress that I’ve had everything handed to me but I’ve had to struggle too. I was the only girl in my sorority with under ten thousand followers on all my social media platforms... do you have any idea what that does to a person? But with your body I’ve finally found my true calling. I deserve this. This is my dream and I don’t see why you have to be such a dick about it. What I’m doing here is important.”

“Important?” Elias was positively dumbfounded by how shallow and selfish this girl was. “You think that you using my body to be a thirst trapping influencer is more important than me using it to serve the country?”

“Um, duh?” She rolled her neck exasperatedly and it was a gesture so irritating that it made Elias want to smack his own face. “Actually that gives me an idea, I think I’ll do a spy inspired photoshoot to post to OnlyFans next. This new body would look really good in a tight black catsuit, don’t you think?”

She picked up her phone and began tapping at it, completely ignoring the fact that Elias was still there. He’d had enough of this! Furious, he snatched the phone from her hand and tossed it into the pool. She gasped and placed one hand on her chest in shock, once again making his hardened body look absolutely ridiculous.

“You asshole!” She shrieked. “That’s it, you’re crazy. I’m out of here.”

She flipped her hair to the side again and tossed the towel at his face, and when he’d finally fumbled it into his hands he saw her walking away with his body. In desperation he tried to grab her arm but with his more powerful body she effortlessly shoved him and he went flying, landing in the pool with a big splash. He bobbed to the surface, sputtering and humiliated, and he died inside as he watched his ass jiggling in his shorts as his body strutted away from him for the last time.

“But- but that’s my body!” He cried out pitifully. “You can’t just take it!”

Amelia stopped and turned on her heels, glaring down at the sad wet agent in the pool disdainfully. Her hip was popped out to the side with one arm placed on it, giving Elias a full display of what he was losing.

“Don’t worry,” She said sweetly. “If you miss your body, you can just follow me on my socials. You’ll be able to see it plenty.”

#male body swap #bodyswap #yeah Idk what this is I was just trying to knock the rust off and I thought this was funny #I liked the idea of a super serious dude losing his body to someone so vapid I love role reversal stuff like that

[yougotthat-write]

United Front: Part One (Law & Order: SVU/NCIS Crossover, Rafael Barba x Reader)

Part One: A Case

Word Count: 7,200+

Warnings: Graphic description of assault, canon-typical violence, language, crossover between SVU and NCIS, can't think of any other warnings - please let me know of any.

Summary: With the rape and death of a high-level Naval intelligence officer in Manhattan, America’s two toughest crime solving teams must learn to work together. The 16th precinct is wary of the federal agents, but opinions need to be set aside for the greater good of the victim and the country. You might find yourself getting a little too comfortable with a certain prosecutor, but your training prepared you for that… right?

Author's Note: This has been in my Google Docs for months and I've been kind of meh about it. I guess I'm posting to see if people would like this. I'm someone who thrives on affirmation so, let me know what you think! Realistically, this would be a slow burn fic with the reader ending up with Rafael b/c... I love him.

Read on AO3 here!

***

Intensive Care Unit | Bellevue Hospital

Manhattan, New York

Monday November 13th

9:48 A.M.

The hospital had that off putting smell. That smell that would tell you it was constantly cleaned but it still would make people feel dirty or diseased if they sat in it for too long. Sergeant Odafin Tutuola and Detective Amanda Rollins made their way down the pristine white hallway and to the nurses station. Fin stepped to the nurse behind the desk, “You called about a woman? Mid-twenties? Possible rape?”

The Spanish looking woman looked up from the computer. She nodded over towards a man in scrubs, down the adjacent hallway, “Dr. Williams,” was all she said before she went back to typing up her notes from a patient who had just come down from a seizure.

Rollins led the way towards the doctor. Forefingers slipping into the back pockets of her jeans, she called for the doctor. The doctor stopped his conversation with another nurse, quickly giving her the important information before he stepped towards the blonde woman. “Yes,” He gave a closed lipped smile. “You’re Special Victims?”

“Rollins,” Fin nodded over at the blonde. “Tutuola.” He gestured to himself. The doctor introduced himself before leading them down a hallway and launched into why he called this specific department of the NYPD. A black woman had been found unconscious on the sidewalk just outside of Bellevue hospital. An incoming ambulance saw her on the ground. She looked like she was just thrown out like garbage. She was bleeding from her head. The large pool of blood made the paramedics believe she wasn’t alive until they found a weak pulse.

When they got her loaded onto a gurney and into the light of the hospital, did they finally notice how bad she looked. Her dress was torn and she had circular burns on her arms and legs. Blood soaked the bottom of her dress. Twin bruises were circling her eyes. The doctor stated how this was one of the worst things he’s ever seen. He was called in when they found the bleed in her brain after her CAT scan.

Dr. Williams was able to stop the bleeding but she would be kept in a coma for the time being and monitored closely. He ordered a nurse to do a full screening of the woman which included a rape kit. When the doctor was told of the brutality of her injuries, he knew he had to call S.V.U.

Stopping outside of a door, the doctor turned to the two agents. “There wasn’t any ID on her. She’s a Jane Doe for now. We’ll try to coax her out of the coma in the next few days. She frankly deserves the rest. Rape kit was sent out early this morning.” When his pager went off, the doctor told the two cops that he would keep them updated and they would be sure to know when she was conscious before he left them.

Amanda and Fin exchanged worried looks before pushing the door open to the room. The constant sound of beeping from machines filled their ears. In the bed, tucked under hospital covers was a woman. Skin a dark brown, tightly knotted braids framed around her face. She looked small in the bed, surrounded by machines but she was a decent five foot and seven inches. Her arms were toned and with the soft movement of her chest breathing, she seemed to be in decent shape physically. Like she regularly worked out.

Amanda stepped towards the sleeping woman. She made a sympathetic face as she looked at the burn marks. At least a dozen littered both of her arms. Even with her skin so deep in color, you could still make out the burns easily. Fin lifted the blanket at the foot of the bed. He and Rollins looked at the identical marks that covered the leg that was exposed to the cold hospital air.

“Liv is gonna need to hear about this.” Fin said, fixing the blanket. Amanda nodded as she pulled out her phone, taking pictures to send to her boss. “I’ll go get a copy of her records.”

Special Victims Unit | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Wednesday, November 15th

8:51 P.M.

Olivia Benson was silenced by the Chief. William Dodds' voice was stern, “Listen, I don’t like the idea of feds coming here as much as you but… it could be a matter of national security.”

“It’s a rape case. Our rape case.”

“But the rape happened for a reason, Benson.” Dodds said. “Rochelle Eshwatay was a high level navy intelligence officer and since she died from injuries, it’s now a murder case. It’s their job to look into this.” Benson didn’t say anything. “I expect NYPD’s S.V.U. team to be nothing but warm and welcoming. Barba will be there as well.” The click of the phone made Olivia make a face before setting it back onto the receiver.

Olivia didn’t mind helping out fellow cops but she was a highly sympathetic and empathetic person. Despite only speaking to Rochelle once when she awoke from her coma, Olivia wanted to do everything and anything in her power to find the person or persons who tortured, raped, and left Rochelle to die. Olivia felt even more anger boil when she found out Rochelle was in the Navy. Third generation . A person who put their life on the line only to be taken from this world by some cruel monster.

Olivia begrudgingly got up from her desk and out into the bullpen. Fin had his feet up on his desk, phone held to his ear as he tried to reschedule dinner with his son and his recently announced fiance. Amanda was in the small kitchen, cooing at Nick Amaro’s phone. He had just gotten back from D.C. He spent a week down there visiting his daughter and ex-wife. They had done a bunch of activities like going to the zoo and some museums.

Sonny Carisi was scowling at a laptop screen. While everyone else was taking a short break from the current case with Rochelle Eshwatay, Sonny was still trying to find some sort of connection. He was trying to see if any other cases - rape or murder or both - were done the same way as Rochelle. But whenever he came across something potential, he was locked out.

He didn’t have jurisdiction or the clearance for it.

When Amanda and Nick made their way back to the desks with fresh cups of coffee in their hands, Olivia cleared her throat. Fin looked over his shoulder at his captain, quickly setting his feet on the ground and muttering a "call you back later!” to his son. Carisi’s eyes flickered up over his computer screen which he then tilted down to get a better view of his captain.

Amanda and Nick settled into their chairs, looking at Olivia expectantly. Olivia shoved her hands into her blazer jacket. “I just got off the phone with Dodds-” Rollins rolled her eyes and Amaro made a noise of complaint. Sonny and Fin stayed quiet. “-the case is being handed over to the feds.”

“F.B.I.?” Fin asked.

Before Olivia could answer, Carisi shook his head. “Nah. N.C.I.S. would get it.” Olivia nodded.

“N.C.I.S.?” That was Amaro.

“Navy cops. Well, feds.” Carisi shrugged. Amanda looked over at the blond man. “ What? We’re cops. We should know how many different departments there are - local and federal.” His accent became more prominent as he went on, a pink tint on his cheeks.

Fin bit back his chuckle. Olivia spoke, “They’ll be here tomorrow. Dodds expects us to be good hosts and give them everything we know.” Olivia took a step closer to her squad. “I expect us to have copies.” Amanda nodded knowingly before opening her own laptop, powering up the small machine to get duplicates of all her files and everyone else’s onto a flash drive since feds were known to take original hard drives.

N.C.I.S. Headquarters

Washington, D.C.

Thursday, November 16th

7:45 A.M.

Exiting the elevator and making his way over to the bullpen, Tony DiNozzo glanced over the short cubicle wall to Ziva David. She had her phone up to her ear and she was stewing with anger. “No, no!” Her eyes slid over towards Tony, who slowed in his steps, ear pointed in the woman’s direction as her voice lowered to a whisper.

Tony’s own eyes slid from Ziva and over to Tim McGee, who sat on his desk, fingers tapping against his keyboard. Feeling the stare of Tony, Tim looked up at the older agent over his computer screen. Ziva’s hushed tone was rushed, turning away from both men. Her hand cupped around her mouth and the phone. “I booked the room weeks ago. I do not care if you have double booked it - I had it first!”

Tony made his way over to his own desk, dropping his backpack onto the carpet and settling into his chair. His elbows rested on the top of his desk, intertwining his fingers together and resting his chin atop of them. When Ziva glanced over at him, he flashed a smile. Tim rolled his eyes before going back to his typing.

“Where do you think Agent David has a fancy hotel room booked, McGoober?” Tim didn’t answer. “ Who do you think she’s sharing that room with?” That question was aimed more toward just Tony himself, but it made Ziva whip around to face him. Hand covering the phone she sneered.

“None of it is any of your business, Tony.”

Tony’s brows went up. “Hot mystery date?” Tony hummed. Ziva muttered a few more things before slamming the phone down onto the receiver.

Tim looked over at the woman. “Weekend getaway canceled?” Tony shifted towards Tim’s direction.

Ziva muttered a curse in Hebrew before saying, “Incompetent receptionist double booked our rooms and since we were not the first to book - they canceled!”

“Find another hotel?” Tim suggested.

“With the holiday coming up? It is no good.” Tony’s gaze flickered back and forth between the two.

“Why does McDork know about your plans?”

Ziva looked at Tony. A smirk grew on her face. “McGee suggested the place. Helped me plan. Along with Y/N. And Abby.” As Ziva listed off names, Tony’s mouth fell agape. He adjusted his suit jacket and cleared his throat.

“You don’t want my help?”

Ziva let out a chuckle. The elevator dinged and out stepped you. Backpack slung over your shoulder and shades covering your eyes from the bright lights of N.C.I.S. headquarters, you groaned when a passing agent knocked against you to catch the closing elevator. With the thoughts of Ziva’s getaway weekend being stored away for a moment, Tony found a new toy to play with: a hungover probie.

Tim’s own lips curved into a smile. Just because he wasn’t as annoying as Tony didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hazing the newest addition to the team. “Probie– ” Tony snapped as you passed. “Coming in a little late, aren’t you?” Wincing at the boom of Tony’s voice, you glared at him through your dark shades, flicking a middle finger at him. Tony’s bottom lip jutted out.

“Rough night?” Ziva chuckled again.

You shook your head. “Last night was great. This morning is rough.” You dropped your bag on the ground. Needing something to get rid of the headache, you reached for McGee’s mug that sat on his desk. He let out a noise of complaint as you downed the lukewarm and bitter coffee. You and McGee made similar faces – yours for the distaste of how the agent liked his coffee and his at how you stole his drink.

Collapsing into your chair, you squeezed your eyes shut. The lights in the office were still too bright even with the large frames sitting on your face. “Ziva has to cancel her weekend trip.” Tony mused.

Turning your head in the direction of Ziva, you lifted your shades up a smidge, wincing over at Ziva. “Oh no,” You said. “Did he cancel or did you?” Tony perked at the mention of a he. Ziva shushed at you. Tim’s eyebrows shot up. Tony noticed.

“You don’t know who she was going with?”

Ziva glared over Tim. “I-I… thought it was a simple girl’s trip or something.”

“We should do a girl’s trip.” You mumbled, resting your head onto your desk, covering it with your arms, trying to block out all light and sound.

“I could help plan that.” Tony said. Ziva looked over at the Italian man. The corners of her mouth ticked upward.

“I’m sure you’d like to do more than plan it, DiNozzo.”

Tony stood up from his chair, hands smoothing out his suit jacket. His fingers unbuttoned the few buttons that held the jacket together. It gave his arms better mobility when his hands went to the pockets of his slacks, stepping around his desk towards Agent David. “I’ll have you know,” he had a smarmy smile on his face, “I keep up with all the latest trends regarding women’s beachwear.”

Tim rolled his eyes again, turning his attention over to your form at the desk next to him. He grabbed a sticky note, rolling it into a ball and chucking it at your head. You groaned, swatting a hand blindly in the direction of which the ammunition came from.

Ziva’s eyes were locked with Tony’s, a playful glint in her eyes as Tony stepped closer to her desk. Tony started again, “Depending on where you go – France, Italy, Ibiza – you’ll need to know what’s trending in those places. Europe tends to have a less is more policy when it comes to swimwear.”

Ziva’s smirk turned into a grin and Tony noticed that she seemed to be looking past him. Oh god. Taking a breath, Tony ran his hands over his shirt to smooth it again out of nervousness. He turned and came face to face with The Boss. Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked at Tony curiously. Fresh cup of coffee in his hand, there was a moment of silence. Tim chuckled silently to himself. You notice the lack of noise in the room and peeked up from under your limbs.

“I didn’t peg you for a speedo guy, DiNozzo.” Gibbs stated. Ziva snorted.

“B-boss–” Tony stuttered. He was stopped by the prompt slap across the back of his head with Gibbs’ free hand. Tony grimaced and made his way back to his desk. Gibbs stopped at your desk on his way to his own. You straightened up.

“Feeling okay, Agent?” He asked. You nodded quickly, sliding the glasses off your face, trying hard not to wince too much at the lights. Gibbs set the coffee in his hand on your desk. You flashed him a sheepish smile. Gibbs nodded subtly and turned towards his desk.

He leaned over his desktop computer, hand on the mouse, clicking a few things before saying, “We got a case.” Everyone perked at this. “New York City.” Ziva and Tim let out an “Ooh.” You hummed. Tony made a face. “Grab your stuff. We’re on a plane in an hour. Ducky and Palmer are already on their way to the airport.”

Gibbs made his way over to the elevator quickly, go-bag in hand and thinking of a place to get another quick cup of coffee since he donated his to you. Ziva and Tim grabbed their things and headed towards the elevator that was being held open by Gibbs. Tony and you moved more slowly.

Your excuse was your hangover, hoping the plane had something to wake you up. Tony’s was the thought of going to Manhattan. Shrugging your backpacks on, you both made your way over to the elevator. “You don’t look too happy. I figure you would love N.Y.C.” You mumbled. Tony let out a grunt.

“I would if Senior didn’t live there.” Tony tried to mumble back quietly. But everyone heard. Ziva let out an excited and quiet gasp at the mention of Tony’s eccentric father. Tim had a goofy smile, the pain of Tony potentially seeing his father making him warm with happiness. You let out a snort, amused. Gibbs let the doors close with a smirk on his face.

Special Victims Unit | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

8:26 A.M.

The plane ride was short. D.C. wasn’t that far from New York City. Thankfully, it was enough time to sober up from your impromptu night of drinking with your sister. When the chill of the city air hit you, you shivered. It was late fall and everyone was already starting to talk of the upcoming winter being a rough one. Thanksgiving was only two weeks away and everyone around seemed to be hustling and bustling more than normal to prepare for a day surrounded by family members who they may or may not like, let alone love. After the team settled into the hotel rooms, the next morning, bright and early, you and the team made their way over to the office of ManHattan’s Special Victims Unit. Tim gave you a copy of the case file before slipping into his shared room with Tony the night before and when you read through it before bed and before you left for the office this morning, you couldn’t help but take a shaky breath.

A naval intelligence officer named Rochelle Eshwatay was essentially tortured, raped, and left for dead. Given her position in the Navy, it was quickly assumed her attacker wanted information about the U.S. Navy.

Before being led up to the S.V.U. office, Dr. Donald Mallard and Jimmy Palmer met the rest of the team in the lobby of the station. Tony made a comment about Palmer’s “I heart NYC” baseball cap. Ziva was quick to assure the N.Y.C. giddy M.E. assistant that his hat looked very nice on his head.

When the elevator dinged, the large team of federal agents exited and were surrounded by New York cops dressed in their uniforms. Some looked over at the nicely dressed agents. Gibbs led the pack, asking a young cop where the office of Olivia Benson was. The boy – probably fresh out of the academy – pointed to some closed doors past the bullpen.

The bullpen was scattered with desks. Papers scattered on practically every surface. Phones rung nonstop. Cops scurried past them - some with witnesses, victims, or perps. In the middle of the pen, a blond man with perfectly quaffed hair saw the out of place group. He stood up quickly, lanky and all limbs. He flashed a sideways smile. “Uh, hello– ” He held out a hand. “Detective Dominick Carisi Jr. but uh, you can call me Sonny.” Gibbs shook Sonny’s hand.

Tim leaned over to Tony, “Looks like we got another Italian Junior.”

“Can it, McNuisance.” Your hand lifted up to your face, scratching the tip of your nose to hide your smile.

Gibbs shot a look over to the two men. Ducky let out a sigh at the shenanigans. When Gibbs looked back at Sonny, he said, “Looking for Captain Benson.” Gibbs dug a hand in his suit pocket, pulled out his badge and flashed it at the man. “N.C.I.S.” Gibbs stated. At that, Sonny’s face lit up.

“Oh, wow–” He grinned. “It’s great to meet you all! How’s D.C.?” Sonny started in with a list of questions. Some about NCIS in general, some about the Navy, some about how you were all liking New York. Sonny was stopped though – not because of any of you – but by the sound of the office door opening.

A line of people filed out. A black man who gave a quizzical look to the newcomers in his bullpen. A blonde woman who squinted at the group, bristling as she made her way over to Sonny. A dark haired man stood by the door, looking over the group before turning his head into the office. “Hey, uh, Cap,” His voice was deep and he glanced over at your group again. “Feds are here.”

At the door, a woman stood. She was tall, dark haired - pretty. She thanked Nick before flashing everyone a smile. “Hello, welcome.” She said, “I’m Captain Olivia Benson,” Gibbs stepped forward, hand already outstretched.

“Special Agent Gibbs.” He gave her a curt nod. As Olivia and Gibbs were giving introductions to each other, you noticed another man standing by her office doors. While the rest of the - you assumed detectives - were dressed smartly and professional, this man was dressed like he was ready for a Gala or very important TV appearance. His eyes were green. You were surprised you could see them from practically the other side of the room. He was looking at all of you carefully and when he landed on you, he straightened. He stepped into the bullpen, walking over to the black man who sat at a desk. He bent down and whispered something to him.

Your gaze shifted from him to Olivia. “Looks like you brought the whole agency.” She chuckled. It was a bit uneasy. But she shook it off and motioned to her own team. “This is my Sergeant, Odafin Tutuola,”

“You can call me Fin though,” He had a cool drawl to his voice. Looking at him more carefully, you noticed that out of everyone, he was dressed the most casual. Still dressy, but you could tell he wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to be in a stuffy suit all day.

“Detectives Nick Amaro,” the angry looking guy who told Olivia she had guests, “Amanda Rollins,” the skeptical blonde who was currently telling Sonny to shut up, “and Sonny Carisi.” Sonny grinned.

The last unnamed person stepped up and stood next to Olivia. “I am Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba.” He cooly stated. Your eyebrows shot up curiously. Tony grumbled about Rule #13. It made Rafael’s eyes flicker over to the Italian and Ziva elbowed him in the side.

“Ouch, David.”

Gibbs paused for a moment. He motioned to his right. “Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Ziva David, and Y/N Y/L/N.” He motioned to his left. “Dr. Ducky Mallard and his assistant Jimmy Palmer.” Jimmy waved at the New York team. When nobody matched his vigor, he pushed his round glasses up his nose nervously.

“Doctor?” Nick asked.

“Ah yes,” Ducky spoke. His Scottish accent made Fin’s eyes widen and Amanda to raise her brows, a small uptick on the corner of her mouth. “Mr. Palmer and I are medical examiners. We were told that you have a body. No sense in waiting for it to come to D.C. so we tagged along. Mr. Palmer was more than excited to come to the Big Apple.”

Olivia genuinely smiled at the older man. “I mean no offense Doctor, but our M.E. already started.”

“Oh dear,” Ducky muttered.

Jimmy adjusted his glasses again. “Where exactly is that happening?”

“Downstairs.” Amanda said.

“Come Mr. Palmer, we must go make sure nothing is missed.” Ducky exclaimed to the younger man. Olivia glanced over at Gibbs. “Where did you leave the bags?”

“In the lobby, Doctor.”

“Hmm,” Ducky hummed. The two started towards the elevators again.

“Head down to the basement,” Olivia called after them, taking a few steps, “and ask for Dr. Melinda Warner. She will happily talk you through everything she’s doing.” Ducky and Palmer said their thanks before they disappeared behind the closing metal doors.

“If uh, we could talk in my office,” Olivia threw a thumb over her shoulder. Gibbs stared at her for a moment before giving the slightest nod.

“Play nice,” he said, his gaze lingering a little too long on Tony. Tony gave a tight lipped smile.

When Gibbs and Olivia finally disappeared behind closed doors, everyone seemed frozen in place. Carisi was curious about the Italian sounding name of Tony. He was never afraid to puff up his chest against another self loving Italian. Amanda’s gaze was locked onto Ziva. Both women had a hard and intimidating aura to those who didn’t know them but once you broke down that hard exterior, they were fun loving and surprisingly, loved to gossip.

Tim shifted under the intense gaze of Nick. While Nick was a constant brooder, he was still someone who likes to give people chances. Stepping over to Tim, Nick gave him a small and polite smile. “We have coffee in the kitchen if you guys want some..”

Fin stood up, stretched and ushered Tim over to the kitchen with Nick trailing behind. That left you under the gaze of the lawyer. His hands slid into the pockets of his slacks. He wore a dark blue suit, a burnt orange tie popped against the white of his dress shirt. He stepped towards you. “Rule #13?” He asked.

You flashed him a small smile, apologetic. “Don’t involve lawyers.” There was a pause. Barba stopped the rolling of his eyes. “But an A.D.A. for Manhattan… that’s pretty impressive .” He glanced over at you before fixing his eyes on Tony and Carisi. Carisi was yapping his ear off and you couldn’t help but grin. This was probably the first time Tony had been given a taste of his own medicine.

“Being a federal agent is also impressive,” Rafael stated. He wasn’t confident in what your age was, but he knew you were the youngest on the team. He was confident with how you had this energy about you. It was similar to Carisi. You weren’t too broken down and trodden with everyone’s feelings and traumas, like Olivia. To be a federal agent at your age meant that you needed to be smart, tactful, and fearless. Dealing with the military – no matter the branch – meant that you could hold your own against those with large attitudes and personalities that could run rampant in the ranks.

“Why exactly are you here?”

“To make sure the transfer of the case goes smoothly,” he said, “and since it’s a matter of national security and the crime happened in New York, the D.A. wants to know everything that happens. Maybe even be the district to prosecute.”

“ Ah, so you’re a spy.” You looked over at him and his gaze was already on you. “Would you be the lead prosecutor?”

He shrugged a shoulder, “Depends on if we have any more sex crimes.” His phone vibrated in his suit jacket. He pulled it out, reading the message from his assistant before sliding the phone back into his pocket. “I sure hope to hell there isn’t.” Was all he said before he waved at the rest of the group.

“See ya, Barba!” called Carisi. Tony jolted his head away from the volume of Carisi’s voice. You watched the lawyer make his way through the crowd of cops and to the elevator. After pressing the button, he glanced over at you one last time before stepping into the box.

***

Olivia sat at her desk, offering Gibbs the chair in front of it. He held up a hand, declining, wanting to stand. He glanced around the office. He made note of the photos on Olivia’s desk. Her with a small brown haired boy throughout the years. The most recent picture seemed to be a school picture.

After a moment, Olivia spoke, “I’m sad to see the case being transferred.” Gibbs listened. “Since it happened in New York, I would hope that we would get jurisdiction.”

“She was a Navy officer.”

Olivia nodded. “We have the files for you. But uh, we could show you around. Take you to where she was found. To the hospital.” Gibbs rocked slightly on the balls of his feet. Olivia finally noticed how little this man talked. Her thoughts reeled with how he could lead a large team but the sight of his military approved haircut would push those questions away. No wonder he was a Navy cop – he was probably ex-military himself.

“I’ll have the team split up and I can show you down to the M.E. 's office. Hopefully your doctor found his way.” Gibbs just gave a nod.

***

The two teams were split up into different groups. Amanda, Tim, and Fin stayed at the precinct. Amanda needed help going over security footage and traffic cams that surrounded the hospital. Hopefully they would find the person who dumped Rochelle on the ground like garbage.

Ziva and Tony were shown to the hospital by Nick. Hopefully being able to catch the EMTs who found Rochelle would give them something new, despite already being spoken to by Rollins and Carisi days earlier.

Speaking of Carisi, you and him stayed at the precinct as well. He nonchalantly brought up how he didn’t have clearance for certain files that may help the case. After being told a very well thought and thorough argument, you nodded and logged into with your credentials on his computer.

When Fin chuckled, you gave him a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a lawyer just like Barba. That’s why he’s so persuasive.” You quirked a brow at Carisi and he went pink in the cheeks, a smile on his lips.

“Fordham Law,” he shrugged sheepishly.

“What kind of lawyer do you want to be?” You asked.

Sonny shrugged again. “Maybe be a prosecutor, maybe work with S.V.U.. But it’ll be a while to get to that. And I don’t think Barba is looking for a new job quite yet.”

Ambulance Bay | Bellevue Hospital

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

11:53 A.M.

“I do not see why people must drive like maniacs!” Ziva exclaimed, slamming the door to the car. Tony shot a look over to the woman. “Why do they not move when the light is green?” Nick Amaro finally got out of the car, sliding the keys into his pocket. He let out a nervous laugh. “All of the honking! It makes me want to rip my head off-”

“-pull your hair out.” Tony corrected.

“Yes, that too.”

On the ride over, midday traffic hit the city like a plague. Getting over to Bellevue took longer than expected but it gave Nick ample opportunity to get to know the two Navy cops. Tony was the most senior agent within the group, much to Agent David’s moans of being a child most of the time. Tony was eccentric in a way. When passing a monumental New York landmark, he would quip with a line from a movie that Nick knew was too old for him to know about. Tony had also groaned when his phone went off. Nick was able to catch the screen denoting the word “Senior” before Tony silenced the phone.

Ziva was interesting. He couldn’t place the accent she had. He almost thought of her as a Spanish speaker like himself, but when Nick was cut off by a large truck, Ziva from the back seat, started to swear at the anonymous driver in Hebrew. Although Nick didn’t know it was Hebrew until Tony clipped, “Shabbat shut up, David. He can’t hear you!” Ziva leaned forward, face peeking at Tony from behind his seat. She muttered more things in Hebrew. Obviously threats. Tony hissed over at her, waving a hand to push her back to the seat.

Before going into the ambulance bay of the hospital, Nick showed the agents to where the paramedics found Rochelle Eshwatay. The stain of dried blood was still there, despite the sidewalk being busy with city goers. Ziva looked from the sidewalk and to the entrance to the emergency room. “Help was only thirty yards away.” A loud wail of a siren went off. The two agents and the detective watched an ambulance make its way from the hospital parking lot and into the jungle of New York traffic, weaving in and out of lanes before disappearing down a one way street.

“File said she had no I.D. on her?” That was Tony.

Nick nodded. “She was a Jane Doe until she woke up the next day. She was in the system because of being a Navy officer. She has an older brother somewhere stationed in Iraq. Marine. She couldn’t remember anything when she woke up.”

“Did you contact her commanding officer?”

Nick nodded again. “We went to the Navy port. She was approved for the weekend off. Signed out of the base Friday at 1600. Was ordered to sign back in at 0900 Monday. She was found early Monday morning - around 3am. They had no idea where she went or who she saw. Let alone that she was taken and tortured.”

“Who found her?” Ziva asked.

“EMTs. John Terry and Eliza Woland. Hospital said they should be having lunch right now.” The three of them made their way down the sidewalk and into the hospital parking lot. Making their way around the back towards the resting ambulances. Nick spoke to an EMT, asking where their informants were. He pointed to a truck parked a few yards away. “Terry, Woland.” Nick called out.

The double doors opened at the back of the ambulance. A small brunette woman with a short pixie cut came into view. “Detective... Sonny?” She was skeptical.

“Amaro.”

“ Ah, sorry. Been a long shift.” She sat down in the ambulance, legs swinging over the edge. “How can I help you?”

“These are Special Agents DiNozzo and David.” Nick introduced the new faces as Tony and Ziva flashed their badges. “NCIS. They want to know about the morning you found Rochelle Eshwatay.”

The woman’s face was saddened. “Yeah, that was rough.” She paused. “We found her unconscious on the sidewalk, in a pool of blood. Blunt force trauma to the head, weak pulse. We thought she was dead until Terry found a pulse. She had burns all over her, a lot of them fresh. When we moved her to the gurney, we noticed the blood coming from..” The woman motioned to her abdomen, Ziva nodded.

“Where is Terry?” Tony asked.

“Getting lunch.” The woman continued her story. How they checked the surroundings after wheeling her to the ER. They gave the on scene cops their statements and then SVU when they came around. All the statements were clear and lined up. Terry finally made an appearance fifteen minutes later with two white bags and a tray of two coffees. He told the same story as Woland dug into her tomato caprese sandwich. The agents and detectives left with no new information. Tony told Nick to drive towards the Navy port.

Office of Dr. Melinda Warner | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

12:10 P.M.

Once reaching the basement of the precinct, Olivia could hear the faint sound of laughter. Was that... Melinda? Olivia’s steps quickened, and Gibbs was sure to keep up. When they entered the large examiner’s room, it smelt sterile. The body of Rochelle was laid on a metal table. She was covered by a white sheet.

By the sink, washing her hands, Dr. Melinda Warner had a smile on her face. Dr. Mallard was still rambling on about a story of some sorts. “And so we thought the bloody thing was dead but then it awoke! The chancellor let out a garish yelp and jumped so much himself that his costly toupee flew off his head and onto the roasted pig.”

Jimmy let out a chuckle. He sat to the side, cleaning instruments carefully. He was dressed in his blue scrubs while Melinda and Ducky wore matching white coats. “Oh, hello Olivia.” Melinda said when she finally calmed down. A few chuckles bubbled up but she stopped them when Gibbs came into her view.

“Making friends, Duck?” His voice had a subtle tinge of amusement.

“Jethro!” Ducky exclaimed. “And Captain Benson, so nice of you to join us.” He plucked his medical gloves off with a snap. “I was telling Dr. Warner here of my dinner with the German chancellor back in ‘95.”

Gibbs smirked. “That’s not even the worst dinner they had together.”

Ducky hummed. “Yes, true. In ‘99, there was a case of food poisoning.” Before Ducky could indulge into that story, Gibbs stopped him with a simple question of what they all found.

Olivia was bemused by the Scotsman. Olivia felt that the man had a plethora of stories to tell and that made Olivia warm with happiness. Warner stepped over to Gibbs. She held out a freshly washed and dried hand and introduced herself. Gibbs did the same.

“Would you like to take the lead, Doctor?” Ducky asked the woman. Warner gave a smirk and then started.

“We believe C.O.D. was a brain bleed from the constant impact to the back of her skull. The doctors at Bellevue stopped one bleed but this one in particular wasn’t able to be seen on scans. We’ll be able to see more once we open her up.” Warner motioned to Rochelle’s head. “She was hit multiple times with something hard and blunt.”

“The shape of the indent makes us think of a pipe or bat.” Ducky chimed in. “Based on the burns on her arms and legs, she was tortured for hours. Maybe even days.” Ducky’s voice grew more solemn. “As you can see,” he grasped Rochelle’s arm tenderly and pointed to a few burns in particular, “some burns are more healed than others.” Olivia and Gibbs looked at the burns. Some were more pink. The flesh tried to heal itself while she was still alive. Others were more dark and starting to scab.

“We believe she was sexually assaulted with the same thing she was beaten with.” Melinda said quietly. Olivia’s expression softened. Gibbs bristled. Jimmy blinked a few times, hanging his head down while holding a pair of forceps. They shone in the light. Ducky’s lips pursed, giving a shake to his head.

“Awful thing they did to this Navy officer, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded at his old friend. “We need to find out why.”

“With the general look over, I found dirt and grime under her fingernails. A light colored hair follicle was caught in her braids. Mr. Palmer was sure to collect them all.” Ducky said. “Ms. Sciuto was very upset when told she couldn’t make the trip to New York. But Dr. Warner assured us that the NYPD has their own forensics team.” Ducky looked over at the fellow doctor with a small smile. “Whoever did this was focused on the job, Jethro.” Ducky sighed. “There’s some anger to it but they were on a mission. You said she was a Naval Intelligence Officer?” Gibbs nodded. “Best find out what intelligence she had access to.”

***

You were sitting at an empty desk. You assume it to be Nick’s since a picture of a girl who shared his same features was on it, smiling at you. You had brought your laptop and Carisi was on his. You had gotten some information on the detective as you both searched for matching MOs. After learning about his budding lawyer career, he spoke of New York and how he grew up in Brooklyn. The thick accent gave it away but it was still nice to hear him talk about it. When he brought up how he was the newest addition to the team, you couldn’t help but grin and say, “Me too!”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “How long have you been at N.C.I.S.?”

“About nine months.” You looked over your screen at him. “You?”

“Around six months.”

“You should have seen him when he first joined.” Fin called out from across the desks. The man had perked up at the sound of jovial noise from you and Carisi. “He had this god awful mustache.” Sonny’s cheeks went pink.

The Southern drawl of Amanda joined in. “He looked like he just came off a porn set.” Tim, who was sitting between the two detectives, smiled at the joke.

You had let out a giggle when Rollins pulled out her phone – a loud protest from Sonny rocked the room – and showed you a plethora of Sonny sporting a mustache. Sonny grabbed the phone but instead of deleting the pictures, he simply held it up next to his face and stroked his upper lip. “I think I looked dignified.”

“I don’t think Tony or Tim could grow something as beautiful.” You quipped. Tim’s mouth fell open a smidge.

“I could grow a mustache. And a beard.”

“I don’t think you could, Tim.” You chuckled. “But neither can Tony so I don’t think you’re in bad company.”

“Not bad, just annoying.” Tim grumbled. He, Amanda, and Fin were slaving away at an endless amount of footage. Some from stores on the street, some from the hospital themselves. Tim had sent over the most unrecognizable and choppiest bits of footage over to Abby back in D.C. She sent back a scathing email about how she should have been on that plane with everyone else despite the lecture she was given by Director Vance about how she had other cases and evidence to work over.

Carisi and you were looking through database after database for some sort of connection. With your level of clearance, Carisi had to push the curiosity away of looking up dumb conspiracy theories like who killed Princess Diana or if Area 51 was real. He didn’t even know if you had the clearance for that, but the inkling to try was still there. Carisi looked up from his screen when you made a noise.

He hummed back at you, curious. You turned your screen. “Found a similar case.” Carisi read the screen. A seventeen year old girl was found dead outside of a hospital in San Francisco. Small, circular burns on her body. Blunt force to the head. But she wasn’t raped. “Almost identical.”

“She wasn’t Navy though.”

“Who?” Amanda asked. Carisi explained, Tim and Fin perked at the sound of the new information. When you said the name of the girl who died – Connie Jameson – Tim made a face. Your eyes flickered over to your team mate. You knew that look. Timothy McGee had the wheels in his head turning. Tim grabbed the file off of Fin’s desk. Fin made a noise but it was ignored. Shuffling through the papers, Tim finally found what he was looking for.

“Jameson–” Tim mumbled under his breath. “Ronald Jameson was the commanding officer of Rochelle. He’s currently on the S.S. Teddy Roosevelt that’s ported here in New York.”

“Are they even related?” Fin asked, regarding Connie and Ronald.

You and Carisi looked back at your screen before nodding, almost simultaneously. “It’s her father.” Carisi said. “I think we found a first break.”

You were already pulling out your phone as Carisi said that. You found Tony’s contact. The line trilled twice before Tony answered. “Are we going back home yet?”

“No, I think we’re going to stay even longer.”

Tony groaned. “What is it?”

“Eshwatay’s commanding officer had a daughter who was murdered the same way about four years ago in California.” Your eyes went over the case again as Tony hummed. “She wasn’t raped but it’s too close to not look into.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we’re headed to the Navy port.” Tony said. He finished the call with a command to forward the Jameson case to him and Ziva. “Boss should know.” You agreed and ended the call.

#law & order: svu #ncis #svu fic #svu fanfiction #ncis fic #ncis fanfiction #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #olivia benson #amanda rollins #sonny carisi #odafin tutuola #nick amaro #melinda warner #leroy jethro gibbs #anthony dinozzo #ziva david #timothy mcgee #ducky mallard #jimmy palmer #abby sciuto #i wrote this months ago #so lmao will i finish it??? #idk bully me into it i guess #crossover fic

[ynscrazylife]

Holaaaa, I would really love to request a Wanda Maximoff x sister reader fic, preferably an angsty one- but I don’t have the ability to think of a good storyline but if you’d want to write this, I have faith that you would !! <3

The One Who Interfered | w.m angst sister fic

Summary: The power of a sister defeats chaos magic any day, anytime.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! I hope you like it. If not, feel free to re-request.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/bdaviss

It was safe to say that the concept of feelings was still a . . . strange subject for Vision. Logically, he shouldn’t posses them, for he was merely made up of electronic parts and a bunch of codings. Yet, from everything he scanned of the humans around him, their emotions were one and the same. Vision’s love for his wife Wanda was as true as his neighbor’s for his wife and his love for his children Billy and Tommy was as real as his children’s love for him.

Unfortunately, though, that also meant that his guilt from lying to Wanda and not being there for their children’s Halloween was as present as ever. However, his curiosity got the best of him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could exist in restlessness without answers.

The scary thing was, though, that he didn’t even really know what questions that the answers he was searching for would solve.

All he knew is that every time he tried to think back to a time before he and Wanda moved to Westview, when he and Wanda had even started dating, he drew a blank. It was as if someone had put up a wall, dividing his memories. But that wasn’t the only thing. Something about this place was just off. Everything always seemed to fall into the right place, just a few inches off the exact dot. There was something about the people in Westview — their behaviors, their choice of words, that led Vision to believe that perhaps, somehow, a greater force must be at play.

He didn’t know what he wanted to see or didn’t want to see when he went past the street Wanda always warned their children not to go down, but he could only hope that his intuition was right and something, anything was there.

Yet what he came across filled him with the urge to turn around and fly home and to never, ever come back or think back. The people on these streets, standing in front of the houses, were frozen still, like statues. At first he thought that maybe they were, but when he saw a singular tear rolling down a woman’s eye, he knew that this had to be real, and it was sickening.

Wanda had to have known what was there if she didn’t want their children seeing it, which meant she had to know something about it and made the choice not to tell her husband. Vision frowned, spurred with a new-found determination to uncover what his wife was hiding. Instead of turning and flying back, he walked at a brisk pace, so he wouldn’t miss any other clues that may be lurking around.

Lucky for him — this proved useful when he saw a woman walking down the street, wearing a common and classic vampire costume. Usually he wouldn’t spare her a second thought but she struck . . . ah, what did the humans call it? . . . Oh, yeah! She struck déjà vu in him. After a moment of thinking, he remembered that he had seen someone who looked exactly like her in a photo with Wanda, along with Wanda’s brother Pietro who she had told Vision about. Yet this woman . . . Wanda never mentioned her.

He fixated on the women and, without thinking (can robots really think?), made quick strides to stand before her.

The woman’s eyes widened and she took a step back, pulling a face. “Nice makeup,” she commented enthusiastically, nodding to his robotic head that was usually masked as human. “How’d you do it?”

Vision ignored this and, before the opportunity could escape him, he placed his fingers on the temples of her forehead. He didn’t quite know what he was doing but somehow his muscles seemed to remember. Within seconds, the woman had gasped and her eyes flew open, and a different gleam took its place.

“Viv-Vision?” She said in awe, before throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Vision froze. Did he know her? He suppose he had to, if she was related to Wanda. Frowning in annoyance that he couldn’t remember, he gave her an awkward couple of pats on the back.

Y/N pulled back and furrowed her eyebrows as it dawned on her the complete cluelessness in Vision’s face. He was her best friend! They had known each other ever since he had joined the—the Avengers. The Avengers? The Avengers!

The memories came rushing back. Joining the team with her sister and brother, meeting Vision, going on Avengers’ missions . . . Fighting Thanos . . . The Snap . . . The battle! Getting everyone back! Going to Westview with Wanda? Westview . . . Wanda? . . . WANDA!

“What?” Vision spluttered.

Y/N blinked, realizing that she had said the last word out-loud. She remembered everything. How Wanda’s powers washed over her and gave her fake memories, a fake life . . . But underneath it all she had fought to remember, she had seen Wanda’s own nightmares.

“I need to see Wanda!” She elaborated. When Vision remained in a stunned state, Y/N got impatient. “Now!”

Vision nodded. He had considered using his powers to stop her awareness but decided against it when she mentioned his wife. “Hold on,” he muttered and wrapped an arm around Y/N before he flew them into the air. Rare was the robot so caught off-guard.

Within seconds they were at Wanda and Vision’s house. Walking inside, they found Wanda and Pietro still in their Halloween costumes, talking. Billy and Tommy must have been upstairs, sleeping — or eating their candy.

“Y/N?” The Maximoff twins said at the same time. Though Pietro had a silly grin on his face and Wanda looked like she had just seen a ghost.

Y/N, too, was shocked, not expecting to see her “brother” . . . “Who are you?” She asked curtly, turning to Pietro and glaring.

Pietro glanced from Wanda to Y/N, giving an exaggerated scoff. “What?” He said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m your big bro, duh!”

Y/N opened her mouth to debunk that but, before the words could form themselves on the tip of her tongue, Wanda cut in. “Pietro, Vision, can we please have a moment?” She requested.

Everyone in that room knew that Wanda meant business when she used that low, calm, slightly venomous tone. Vision and Pietro walked into the kitchen and Y/N glared at her sister.

“How did you get into Westview?” Wanda asked once the door shut, her demeanor switching completely. She relaxed her muscles and her face contorted into a look of genuine surprise and remorse, her eyes carrying regret.

Y/N wasn’t buying it, though. She bit her lip. “The same way you did, we drove in the same damn car!” She cried.

Wanda huffed, not fazed by her outburst but not appreciative of it, either. “How did you get back into Westview?” She said, and a wisp of red circled her clenched fists.

Y/N glanced at her sister’s hands. “I never left!” She said, deciding that even if her sister held an immense amount of power, she wasn’t going to let that scare her.

The wisp disappeared.

Wanda’s jaw dropped ever so slightly.

“W-what?” She croaked out.

Y/N stood her ground, eyes watering. “You cast an illusion over this entire town. You gave them fake memories and took away their free will. All of them! Even me,” she explained.

When Wanda didn’t answer, seeming almost frozen, Y/N continued. “Why haven’t you stopped it? We’re all suffering — we’re all in pain. Why won’t you stop it?!” She questioned, her tears starting to fall and her cheeks reddening. She had wanted to ask this for awhile, she could feel it in her bones.

“I’ve tried,” Wanda gasped. She too was crying. “But every time I-I . . . Every time Vision and my children disappear.”

Y/N blinked, not having expecting that. After she gathered her thoughts, she pushed on. “Can’t you figure out a way to at least stop holding people hostage here? Or bring back their memories—?”

“If I do that then they’ll come after me,” Wanda interrupted.

Y/N took a physical step back and stared at her sister, whilst the redhead took deep breaths, a look crossing over her features that expressed that she hadn’t meant to say that.

“So is it that you don’t want your already-dead husband to disappear and your non-real children that I’m sure you can use your magic to make them stay alive to disappear, or is it that you don’t want to face the people you’ve hurt?”

Wanda’s gaze instantly turned into a glare, as did her tight-lipped look morph into her frown, and her limp hands come alight with power.

Y/N looked at her sister, unsure. “Do it,” she decided, still refusing to be afraid of Wanda, and jutting her chin out. “Then go lie to your husband and our “brother” on where I am. Continue lying to and hurting people instead of trying to find a solution that will save the people in Westview and your family — which obviously doesn’t include me because you just forget that I was here, right? You forget that I helped you through everything, yeah? You forgot that I lost you in the snap, huh?”

The power disappeared from Wanda’s hands but she didn’t say anything. The sisters stood and stared at each other. Wanda was huffing and puffing and her emotions were having an all-out war on her face, fighting to take over. Meanwhile Y/N was shaking with nerves but trying to maintain as confident as possible.

Finally, Y/N turned around and walked out. In her state, she didn’t notice Agatha Harkness amongst the bushes in the front yard, with a smile growing on her lips as she watched the youngest Maximoff retreat.

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#wanda maximoff x sister!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff angst #wanda imagine #wanda x platonic!reader #wanda x y/n #wandavision #wanda x reader #wanda x you #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch imagine #angst #fic writing #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel request #send me requests #mcu reader insert #mcu self insert #mcu fanfiction

[squishy0823]

•Made in Glory | Viktor x Fem!Reader

Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Summary: Stepping back into your past was the last thing you ever wanted to do.

Warnings: Fighting, mention of blood

Pairing: Viktor x fem!reader

Word Count: 1611

A/N: Here we go!! We're getting to the good parts! I've also started a taglist! If you want to be added just let me know <3

-----

The golden gates of the city felt foreign to you. It felt bigger, or maybe you got smaller. The city was alive, more alive than the last time you were here. Tall buildings painted the sky as airships and people came from far-off places to see the city of progress. You dreamed one day of making a mark in Piltover, becoming something greater than yourself. But the mark you left was one you never intended to leave, so coming back to the city that turned on you, was filled with nothing but worry. As the sunset over the city, you passed people walking home their jobs, heading home to their families. Your eyes scanned the people as your hood covered your masked face. You didn’t know how well the enforcers were with keeping up with criminals who had escaped Piltover. When two enforcers walked past you, you lowered your head even more and tried to avoid them. You stopped once, a poster on one of the brick walls, it was of Jayce. It seemed as if time never got to the young man as he looked almost exactly the same.

At that moment you made it your mission to not get seen by anyone on the council, Jayce, or Viktor. You couldn’t risk anything.

Once safely away from the crowds, you found yourself drawn to the Academy. The power was coming from there, you could feel it crawling in your skin. Enforcers guarded the grounds like their lives depended on it, you took a wild guess because you knew the council was inside and so was Hextech. The wonderful creation of Jayce and Viktor, using Arcane magic.

“Hextech could kill, it’s magic. Why am I any different from that?”

“Those boys can control the technology for Hextech! You, however, cannot be controlled.”

You blinked as the memory of the last day came back to you. Swallowing your fears, you snuck into the back gate of the academy. You watched carefully at the movements of the guards and made a quick and smooth dash when you did. You always knew the guards at the academy were the worst, having your fair share of sneaking in and out in your younger years as a student. Once hidden in a bush, and the guards around the corner away from your line of sight, using magic, you started to scale the wall. You reached for the closest window, thankfully left open, and slipped right inside.

Upon your great stealthy entrance, you found yourself in a student's room, but the room was dark and empty. Slipping into the room, you quickly rushed to the door and slipped into the dark hallway. Light from a torch came brighter from around the corner, causing you to slip further down the hall, away from the footsteps coming your way. Although it had been many years since you stepped out on the grounds, you still knew it like the back of your hand. You quickly moved down the halls, watching and listening for the guards walking the halls. You drew yourself closer to the feeling of the darkness, or whatever it was. You were pulled to it like a magnet to metal.

You reached a part of the Academy that you didn’t recognize, a new lab, a new area. You stood in front of the door where you could feel the force the strongest. Glancing to the cracks below the door, the lights were off, the door locked. Lifting your hand, you let the soft hue of green spread across your hand as the locks on the door clicked open. Grabbing the handle, you softly opened the door and looked inside. With nothing but darkness, the soft light of purple caught your eye. The strange feeling pushed you inside as you stepped closer to the light. Hovering over the table, you looked to the pages of notes that littered the desk. But your eyes went straight back to the purple magic before you.

It was distorted, runes of darkness, nothing good would come from this form. You had to destroy it. It pulled you close as it sent chills down your spine, this went against everything you knew about safe arcane. This was pure evil to you, and how someone did this, was beyond your knowledge. You reached forward, but you were afraid to touch it.

A sudden snap and clink brought you back as you heard a soft gasp from someone behind you. You whirled around before someone could hit you with something. You jumped back and slid on the polished floor, your eyes landing on the tall dark figure. He pulled his arm down again and tried to hit you with what looked like a wrench. You quickly pulled back again as he took a few more swings, you taking a step back with each swing as he missed a few more times. You could see the dark eyes glare at you in the darkness as you sighed in frustration. When he brought his hand up again, you pumped both of your hands downward, your magic flowed down to your hands and formed a knife-like shield around your hands. Around you lit green as you took a quick swing at the figure, he too dodging your attacks like you did to him. His back hit the table as you brought your fist to his face, the sharp magic sword around your wrists, swirled as the green finally illuminated your attacker.

“Jayce?” You gasped under your mask. His eyes looked across your mask, unsure of who the voice belonged to. Before you could force the magic from your hands away, Jayce reached over the table and picked up another tool and smacked you across the face.

You stumbled back, the magic gone from your wrists. Your heavy mask fell to the ground with a soft clank as your hood fell from your head. You turned away from Jayce as you felt blood on your cheek. You spit the blood from your mouth as you bit into your cheek upon impact. You turned back to him before he could hit you again. Your eyes locked for a moment, his eyes wide in disbelief at who was standing in front of him.

“Y/n.” He gasped out as he dropped the tool. It echoed as it bounced to the ground.

Your eyes looked to him and quickly to the light seeping in from the hall behind Jayce. Standing in the doorway, leaning on his cane, was the man you thought you’d never see again. Viktor saw you, his eyes wide, mouth open just a little. You watched him, his eyes scanning you as you both took each other in.

“Y/n-“ he gasped out in a whisper. Your name felt foreign on his tongue, and you’d never thought you would hear him say your name ever again. “Wha-how…” Viktor stuttered after a moment. He limped closer, coming closer as the lab lit up as the two men stood next to each other, looking to you, as if you were a ghost.

“I hope my presence doesn’t make you uneasy.” You huffed as you tried to wipe the blood from your cheek with the back of your gloved hand.

“How did you get into the city?” Jayce asked quickly stepping forward. You stepped back, not wanting to get close to him.

“The same way anyone can.” You mumbled not looking at him.

“You’re here,” Viktor said, his eyes carefully watching you. You finally stopped and looked to him. Your hard eyes softened as you finally saw him in better lighting. He was so thin, eyes hollow like he was withering away before your eyes. He leaned much more on his cane, a heavier brace around his leg. You looked down, nodding to them.

“I’m here.” You said.

“Why?” Jayce asked. You looked up. His question didn’t make you feel welcome, and he saw that when you glared at him, your eyes narrowed. “Not that… we’re not happy to see you. It’s just that, you were-”

“Forced out? Sentenced to death? Ran away?” You spoke with a harsh tone. Jayce and Viktor glanced to each other for a moment and said nothing. “I’m not back to shake hands and forgive.” Anger bubbled within as your face grew red. You sighed trying to calm yourself, “I’m here for that.” You pointed to the purple hex-looking thing on the table.

“The Hexcore?” Viktor asked looking to it on the table.

“Is that what you called it?” You questioned. “That thing is nothing but trouble,” you told them, “you have no idea what it can do.”

“And what can it do?” Jayce asked crossing his arms across his chest.

You shook your head, looking to the Hexcore. “I’m not sure.” You admitted in a whisper, shoulders slumped. “But I can’t let you poke and pry it.” You turned back to the two with a hard gaze.

“You can’t just destroy it!” Viktor protested, stepping closer to it. “We have yet to fully study it.”

You frowned. “You never seem to heed my warnings, do you?” Viktor looked at you in shock for a moment. You had warned him once before about studying Arcane magic, and it pushed you away from Piltover. “If you still have any bit of a brain, you will listen to my warnings and let me destroy it.” You warned again, stepping closer to the Hexcore.

Jayce put his hand out, placing it on your chest. You looked at his hand in disgust as you pushed him off. “If you destroy it,” his voice grew, “we might not be able to cure Viktor.”

#viktor #arcane #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #league of legends #viktor arcane #arcane netflix

[homosexuality-at-its-finest]

3+1 (Avengers x Male!reader)

Plot: 3 times you saved the avengers and the 1 time they saved you

Avengers x Male!reader

Warnings: cussing, slight angst?, readers a selfless idiot

Y/N: your name

H/C: hair color

E/C: eye color

Word count: 1396

 1.

The mission was supposed to be a simple one, infiltrate a HYDRA base and get information on their current plans. The team had gotten word from and informant that HYDRA was planning something big, something that could endanger the world at large. The plan was rather simple, most of the team would distract the agents while Natasha snuck inside and hacked into their systems and got the information they needed.

It started off well, with everyone but Natasha distracting the agents as she creeped into the building, making her way towards the main server room. The trip to the server room was surprisingly easy, the red head only having to take down a few of the HYDRA goons. She had taken them down with ease and was now in the server room, eyes scanning over the words that ran past the screen in front of her. She plugged the flash drive in, hacking through the needed files so she could upload the documents onto the flash drive. She could hear the playful banter mixed with orders from Steve over the comm, a small smirk spreading across her lips when she heard Tony make a snarky comment towards their team leader.

In her moment of distraction an agent had snuck up on her, but before he could lay a hand on the assassin a cry of pain left his lips as someone hit him over the head. Natasha’s head whipped around, eyes landing on Y/N who was giving her a little grin.

“Next time watch your six Tasha.” The man teased, causing the red head to roll her eyes with a sigh. “I’m never going to live this down.”

 2.

It was a normal day at the tower, Thor was off in some distant place, Clint went back home to his family, and Natasha was off god knows where. Bruce was having a rather bad day emotionally, the feeling of hulk clawing at his brain was excruciating. He wanted to slam his head against the wall until the pain went away and hulk just shut up. He sat in the ‘Zen room’ as the team called it, it was where he could go to calm down and relax when he was having a bad day. Usually no one else other than him would come into the room, it was really his room, and no one wanted to overstep an unsaid boundary.

He was curled on the fluffy sofa, a cup of tea in his shaking hands. He could see the green creeping into his skin and it absolutely terrified him. He let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his heart began to race. He felt like he was about to go over the edge, but a gentle and steady hand tore him from those thoughts. His eyes snapped open, his head turning to the side to see the gentle gaze of Y/N. The H/C gave Bruce a gentle and understanding smile, not one ounce of judgement on his face. “Bad day?” He questioned, his voice calming the unforgiving monster inside of him.

The scientist let out a shaky sigh, giving his friend a little nod. Y/N simply hummed and sat beside Bruce, squeezing his shoulder. “How about we watch a movie, I can make you some tea and make whatever you want for lunch?” He offered, wanting to do anything he could to relax his teammate. Y/N helped Bruce more than he had realized, calming the raging storm inside of the scientist, the big guy lulling into a calmer state. Bruce couldn’t be more thankful for it.

 3.

Tony wasn’t sure how he got in this situation, one second they’re fighting an alien threat and next thing he knew he was being thrown against the side of a building. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurry, he could feel himself hit the ground with a ‘thud’. He could hear his teammates voices in the comms, the worry for him was clear. He tried to lift himself up, but his entire body felt like lead and he just fell back down into a heap of metal. The billionaire let out a groan of pain, his eyes falling shut.

He heard rapid footsteps but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. His head was pounding and every inch of him hurt, god he fucking hated aliens. He could hear what sounded like a fight, flesh hitting flesh and grunts of pain or horrifying screeches from the aliens. He forced his eyes open, seeing a blurry figure in front of him fighting off a small hoard of the creatures, but he couldn’t discern who it was. He gave up on trying to stay awake, slowly sinking into the abyss.

When he woke back up, he was in the med bay, pepper by his side and his fellow avengers scattered about. The only person he couldn’t spot was Y/N, which caused concern to swell in his chest. “Where’s Y/N?” His sudden words caused a few people to jump, but Pepper let out a sound of relief, her head resting against his arm. “Never do that again.” Her voice held steady and strict, but her red eyes spoke volumes of her worry. “Where’s Y/N?” Tony repeated once more, causing Steve to let out a low sigh.

“He’s being treated by Hellen right now; He sustained some injuries during the fight.” He explained to the brunette. Tony’s eyebrows furrowed a bit. “How? Is he okay?” You were the youngest avenger; he was going to worry about you till his hair went gray. (Even though he pretended to be annoyed by your presence.)  Steve rubbed the back of his neck with a wince, knowing Tony would blame himself. “He got hurt defending you after you were thrown, he saved you.”

 4.

Y/N was objectively the most important member of the team, always quick to think of a solution or putting himself at risk to save his team members. So, to put it lightly the team was protective of him, because he was stupid and selfless and so entirely Y/N. It was one of those moments of him being stupid and selfless, there was a bomb in a building to close to civilians and no one was close enough to be backup; so, he went alone. He knew the chances of actually disarming the bomb, he wasn’t as experienced as Tony or Bruce, so all he could do was hope to give the team some time to clear out civilians.

He knew he was fucked the moment he walked into the building, yet he still did it, and it baffled the team. He could hear Steve screaming at him to get out of there, yet he persisted and kept himself steady as he walked towards the explosive. He began working as fast as he could, he felt his heart pounding and could see how shaky his hands were, yet he pushed past his fears, for the greater good he told himself. The bomb itself wasn’t to complicated and with some work he was able to bump the timer up another minute, but he knew damn well there was no way he could get out of the building in time.

So he sat there, waiting for the time to run out, simply listening to his teammates speak, trying to engrave their voices in his head. They were his family, he could die happily knowing he did so protecting the people and his team. When the bomb did blow he could feel himself being thrown through a window, everything became a blur and nothing felt real except one thing, the feeling of cool metal catching him and then it was darkness.

He woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and his entire body felt like hulk beat the shit out of him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care when he realized his team, his family was in the room, all strewn about. He could see all of them were sleeping, and he wouldn’t dare wake them up. He simply went back to sleep with a smile on his lips, because they had saved him.

#marvel #avengers #x male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #tony stark x male reader #Natasha Romanoff x male reader #Bruce banner x male reader #steve rodgers x male reader #clint barton x male reader

[universalistotalis]

You fool

Gojo Satoru x Fem reader

Angst

1.7k words

Masterlist!!!

“Do you Y/n, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” Your eyes glowed as you looked at the love your life standing in front of you. This feeling of elation was something you never thought of experiencing in the past but here you are, fueled by passion and love for the person made for you.

“I do.” Your voice echoed in the venue.

Gojo Satoru’s dazzling eyes burned on your form as he too was fueled with the same passion and love for only you. The both of you had been through so much together. And as his sight was fixated with the image of your eyes, he can’t help but have a trip down to memory lane.

La la la la

La la la la

La la la la la la ~

Gojo’s voice echoed the halls playfully as you walked down the makeshift aisle lined with a red carpet in one of the hotels you both went to. The sides were designed with white and pastel colors of cloth, dotted with pink roses and yellow daisies. No one was around the marriage booth exhibit so the both of you, being the wacky couple that you were, barged in and played pretend.

Although this wasn’t pretend for Gojo. He may be smiling as if he was about to share a joke but his heart was beating like crazy while he’s looking at you, walking to him, who’s standing in front of the printed altar. He was singing the Bridal Chorus but stopped as you made your way in front of him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, babe.” He whispered as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He was delighted as you blushed dangerously at his words. After all these years, you were still affected by his charms.

“Y-you’re not bad yourself.” You stuttered.

He laughed loudly at how cute you were being. It amazed him at how comfortable you were in his presence now. In the past, you could barely look at him in the eye, let alone talk to him... but now look at you!

Your chuckles mixed with his in the silence. After catching your breath, your eyes scanned the vicinity before pulling one of his hands. “C’mon, Satoru. We have to go.”

You expected him to agree and walk away with you to another place but he held his place, a foreign smile formed on his lips. It was not the playful smirk you were so accustomed to seeing, but it was so sincere, so full of love that you stared at it for a while. His hands removed the blindfold that covered his eyes and you silently gasped at the sparkles in them as the light illuminated the magnificent pale blue orbs. Then, he encased your hands in his before he took a deep breath and said…

“I love you. I thank all the gods everyday because out of the billions of people they built, they led me to you. I’m so glad I found you.”

“I mean you have six eyes so…” You snorted, even though you felt electrifying tingles from your head all the way to the tips of your toes.

He laughed again and hissed. “Stop ruining the moment!”

“Okay, okay. Continue, my lord.” You bowed respectfully, playfully.

He chuckled once more and hooked your chin on his fingers. “This. The way you make me laugh, the way you make me this happy, it’s enough… more than enough for me to stay and fight for you. Sometimes I wonder if it ever is legal for someone to be so perfect. You understand all parts of myself that I don't even notice. When you look at me, you don’t see that all powerful being everyone is talking about. You see me… the real me.”

A sigh escaped his lips, his eyes gloss over his thoughts. “I can never let them take you away from me. They’ve taken so much already and I am not going to just stand here and lose you.”

“Satoru—“

You suddenly felt a pang in your chest and the rapid fatigue overcome your body. After all the fun and games, you two were still in hiding. Hiding from the world, hiding from his family, both of which would never see you as a worthy match for the most powerful sorcerer of all time. He was destined for someone greater, someone better, someone of another godly descent! They didn’t care if she wasn’t born yet or was still wandering the streets of the world, clueless of his existence, but they are sure as hell that it wouldn’t and can’t be someone like you. Over their dead bodies!

Sometimes you believed them. You let their words and judgments cloud your mind but before they can take over, his voice guides you out.

His grip tightened on your fingers, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. “I will not lose you. You’re the only right thing in my world and I intend to keep you with me for as long as I shall live. You showed me the love I never thought I deserved. You showed me immense kindness that I never thought someone could possess. You made me believe in the good. You gave me a reason to live everyday with a purpose in my head. You keep me sane. Alive. Free.”

“Oh Satoru.” You smiled through your tears at his revelation.

“I’d choose to spend all my infinities with you. No pun intended.” He joked, even when there were tears brimming in his eyes.

“I’d gladly spend them with you too.” You whispered, marveling at the warmth of his hands, wiping the tears away, erasing all the pain of the past, of the judgments and hurt…

“Stay with me.” He whispered back but you hear the tone of desperation in his voice. He was no fool. He could see you cracking at all the comments of his family and strangers alike. He would always thank you for being strong and for holding on…

You sighed as his lips found yours. Warmth coursed through your veins as you felt his soft breath brush your face. This is what home felt like. Suddenly, his tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, asking you to give him entrance to the warm interior. And you did. It was a desperate kiss of tongue and teeth clashing, of heavy breaths and tight grips. There were no inhibitions, no doubts. You both were so in love with each other, refusing to let one another go, refusing to leave each other’s sides…

But eventually, both of you faded. There were trying times, too much of trying times actually… and you two are but victims to emotions, and it came to a point where love just wasn’t enough. So you let each other go, breathe, and fly away.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor announced.

Gojo had to look away from the sight of you landing your lips on another, other than his. He thought he was going to be alright when the both of you agreed to go on separate ways. He reasoned that you both needed to grow in your respective fields, to grow as a person. He deluded himself that you could only do this when you both were away from each other. And maybe after, you can both come back to each other's arms but he knew that was too much to ask.

He was the one who kept asking you to shun out the harsh words from everybody even though he knew how much pain you had to endure. Now, he can’t help but feel guilty as he was the one who got swallowed up by those judgments until it ate him whole. It was supposed to be you and him against the world but he turned against you too.

The pain in your eyes were unbearable when he said his goodbyes. What happened to his speeches about making you stay with him? What happened to his promise of protecting you from all the barriers that separated you from one another? What happened to his love for you?

“Gojo sensei.” Megumi called while patted his back. “Are you alright?”

Gojo pushed his dark- rimmed glasses to the bridge of his nose while displaying a playful smirk. “Of course! I’m so happy for her! Look at them! Such a lovely couple!”

His blood boiled at the sight of you. He preferred to be battling cursed spirits than to be in this damned wedding. But he had to see you. He had to see if you were alright. He had to see that you were truly happy without him.

-

“That should have been me, Megumi.” He whispered to the man beside him.

“You’re crazy, sensei.” Megumi scoffed.

He chuckled. “No, no, I’m serious! I was supposed to propose to her that day! Can you believe it?!"

“Sensei—“

“This ring…” Gojo’s fingers reached for his pocket where he fetched a dazzling, silver, and diamond band with both your names engraved in it. “...is supposed to be resting on her finger, not that trashy one the other bastard got her.”

He sighed. “I never knew why I postponed though. Live in the moment, my ass! I'll do it next time, my ass! I'll make it the grandest, my ass! Look where she is now!"

"Hush!" Megumi's hands flew to his babbling mouth that was shouting all of his regrets.

Gojo's body deflated at the millions of ways he could have done the proposal right even when it's now useless to think of. "Maybe I took her presence for granted. Maybe I thought that she would always be there. Maybe I thought she would never leave. Maybe I thought that she would want to spend all her infinities with me.” His voice faltered at the end as he heard your voice saying the same words.

His eyes closed shut, remembering the promises you made to each other. “She meant it though when she said that. And when she said she loved me. She was so ready to be with me, so ready to fight for me. I’m the fool for letting her go.”

Megumi’s eyes filled with concern for his teacher, much like an older brother. He has never seen him at this state, all weak to the knees.

“Say, Megumi- chan.” Gojo’s lopsided smirk appeared again but everybody knows he’s not in the mood for any jokes.

“Yeah?”

“Does she look genuinely happy?” He asked, staring into the void.

Megumi’s eyes trailed from Gojo to you, who was smiling dearly at your beloved husband as you shared a dance in this reception. Your eyes were visibly twinkling under the lights and you looked like you can’t see anybody but the person in front of you.

“Yes, she does.” He replied.

“Then, let’s go.” He smiled sadly before sighing defeatedly. The ring was again tucked in his pockets, hidden, never to be seen by you, worn by you, cherished by you.

As he walked out of the doors, he took one last glance at the love of his life.

“If I could, I’d carve all the roads of infinity to lead you back to me. Maybe by then, I could have a chance with you again. I love you, I always will.”

His footsteps led him away from the venue. Away from you. But his heart stayed in your presence and his mind repeated the same thing over and over again.

Gojo Satoru, you fool.

---

Just painted Gojo Satoru and my head was like, "Why not write angst about this guy?" Lol

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hope you're all okay!

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

Masterlist!!! Read more here hihihi

#gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo hcs #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x poc!reader #gojo satoru scenario #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #i legit ugly cried at this #why do i hurt myself #gojo deserves the best i know lol #imma make fluff next time #gojo saturo #satoru gojō x reader #gojou satoru x reader

[restapesta]

8 for the sentence starters? 🥺

"You're angry."

Ian looks up from where he's staring daggers into his phone. They're sitting at their kitchen table, across from one another, and there's a crease between his eyebrows followed by a slight downturn of his lips.

And even though this may just be concentration in some people's eyes, to Mickey they're the telltale signs when it comes to understating his husband.

Mickey's taken his sweet time studying Ian Gallagher and all his moods. After ten years of sharing their lives together, being in each other's space, and the silent observing of his partner, he's learned to know all of Ian's expressions and what they entail. These days, there was rarely a mood swing that went by and didn't get caught on Mickey's radar, big or small.

If it were a profession, Mickey would have been an Ian Gallagher expert.

Which is why Mickey knows, for a fact, Ian is angry.

"What are you talking about?" Ian snaps out of his thoughts and asks. It doesn't even matter that his question is rebutted by the constant glancing towards his phone.

Mickey makes a face, one Ian will know how to fucking read. It's the are you kidding me? face. Ian gets those a lot. "You're literally glaring at that poor phone. What's up?"

Ian rolls his eyes.

"I'm not glaring," He says while attempting—that's the key word here—to pocket the said phone into his hoodie, biting at his lower lip.

The hand that's holding the device is gripped tightly around it, and Ian's eyes keep drifting towards the thing as if he's waiting for it to light up and reveal the answer to his biggest worry.

He isn't just angry, Mickey can tell now—he's anxious too.

And as much as angry Ian makes Mickey's chest swell with pride and other things when it's directed at other people that just happened to do something so infuriating they elicited Ian Gallagher's hefty rage; frustrates him to no end when it's aimed at his poor ass—there's just something so worrying to Mickey about this. Fucking anxiety.

Why would Ian be anxious? Why does he keep staring at where his phone is, keeping his fingers wrapped around the screen, even though it's stuffed deep inside his pocket?

Mickey thumbs at his nose. "You get a weird text or something?" He asks nonchalantly.

Well, at least he tries to.

Ian raises an eyebrow at him. Fuck, Mickey should've figured Ian knows all his signs too, goddamn it. The word WORRIED is probably painted across his forehead in bold letters.

He breathes out deeply through his nose and decides to be fucking level. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Let me see your phone."

"Why would you need to see my phone?" Ian shoots back, slightly shifting away in his seat.

"Why won't you let me see your phone?"

"Are we that couple now, Mickey? With no privacy?"

He's the one to talk.

"You took a shit while I was in the shower this morning, Ian. You have no concept of what privacy is."

"Hey, shut up, you got used to it in prison."

"I hated it."

"Well, I hated yours, too," Ian mumbles lowly.

"Don't try to distract me. Phone."

"Uh, no?"

"Ian."

"It's not a big deal, okay?"

Mickey knows for a fact that's not true if this resistance is anything to show for it.

"Look man," He says. "I don't even know what it is you're angry or worried about but I can already fucking tell you, it is a big fucking deal."

Ian scoffs, but his eyes are still not meeting Mickey's. "How? I'm literally fine."

"Ian," He grips his husband's chin, forcing him to look him dead in the eye. "I know you better than you know yourself. It's obviously a big fucking deal."

Ian stares at him slightly wide-eyed before redness overcomes his cheeks. He leans out of Mickey's grip, and with a flicker of gaze towards Mickey, he casts it down to the floor, pulling his hand with the phone tentatively out of the pocket so it sits on the table between them.

"It's," He sighs, looking everywhere besides at Mickey. "It's not that big of a deal, really. I just—"

Mickey picks up the phone as he lets Ian find the right words for it. He turns the screen on and types in the passcode—Mickey's fucking birthday, like the sap he is—before his eyes meet the headline of a goddamn news article.

--

PRIDE MONTH, YOUTH CENTERS, GAY JESUS + MORE

Head of the LGBTQIA+ Youth Center, Trevor H., speaks up about pride in Chicago, Gay Jesus movement, future plans, and more in the article below.

--

Gay Jesus? Mickey looks up at Ian.

This former Gay Jesus in front of him?

"What the fuck is this?" He asks, confused. Who's Trevor H. and why is he talking about Gay Jesus? Why is he talking about Ian, years after the whole disaster even occurred?

What the fuck?

"A former groupie of mine sent me the link to this article," Ian runs a hand through his hair. "Turns out my ex did an interview for this article. There's a whole section about me, apparently."

Mickey looks down at the article. Ignores the ex part. Looks back up again. "What does it say?"

"I don't know. Haven't read it."

"Why?"

Ian shrugs. "Don't feel like it." He fiddles with the skin around his thumb.

Well.

If Ian won't, Mickey will.

He scrolls through the article until Gay Jesus popes up, somewhere around question 12.

Ian's pseudonym only appears after a long discussion about how June of 2021 was a turning point for many young people in Illinois, now that social media was playing a greater role in LGBTQ+ exposure.

Mickey was kind of surprised to find his eyes linger on certain passages, reading through them, then hurriedly skimming others once he remembered that Ian was waiting for him expectantly.

There it is, Gay Jesus, halfway through the article.

Mickey clears his throat to read it aloud, but Ian stops him by snatching the phone out of his hand and placing it back onto the table. He scoots over with his chair so both he and Mickey can read it simultaneously.

There's silence as their eyes scan over the words.

--

12. What's your opinion on the Gay Jesus movement that occurred a few years back?

- The Gay Jesus movement was, in my opinion, a good goal with a poorly conceived plan. Its founder was unmedicated at the time, but his intentions were pure, as long as I'm concerned. Conversion therapy is still a large problem in our city, and [Gay Jesus] bit off more than he could chew with it. Ian Gallagher did his time for the incident, and I know that he is probably making a better life for himself now. , the Gay Jesus movement will evolve into something better, with a lot more love, and a lot less violence, which always has been the goal.

Have you spoken with him recently? Any new protests coming up after the years long hiatus?

- Thankfully, no. [chuckles] But I have heard through the grapevine that he's doing well. Out and proud, married, and I hope happy. I believe that's all of the support from Gay Jesus we need—simply the knowledge that sometimes we need to help ourselves first before we try to help others.

--

Ian exhales the second he's finished reading Trevor's answers and slumps back in his chair.

Relief is evident in his features.

"You know," Mickey says after a few seconds of silence. "he just said the truth."

Ian nods, releasing a shaky breath. "Yeah, I honestly expected it to be worse."

"Worse? Ian, what you did was just as wrong as it wasn't. There's nothing bad about wanting to help people."

"I know."

"Then why are you still sad?"

Ian looks up at him suddenly. "How do you know if I'm fucking sad or not?"

"Dumbass, I know you."

Ian groans. "It's creepy."

"That I know you?"

"That you can read me so fucking well."

Mickey smiles up at him, then stands up and comfortably settles himself down onto Ian's lap. Ian's hands go around Mickey's waist almost immediately. The position is gay as fuck, but it feels fucking right.

"This is not something to be angry or sad about, you know?"

Ian sighs. "I guess you're right."

Mickey palms his cheeks and presses a kiss to his lips. "If you read between the lines, that ex of yours is basically saying he supports Gay Jesus."

Ian snorts. "Sure."

"You're really popular, being in a news article and shit."

Ian bites his lip to stop from smiling. Mickey grins himself and pushes on.

"You're sort of a celebrity."

His husband cracks up at that and the two of them laugh about the whole thing as the phone lays discarded at the table.

It wasn't the bad thing Ian thought it would be.

Mickey may not have been there during the Gay Jesus thing, but he's here now, and he still knows Ian better than he knows himself.

And, if he trusts all the knowledge of Ian Gallagher he's gained throughout the years, then he knows Ian's happy right now.

Mickey intends to keep it that way.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #*ficlet #lol idk #thank you for the ask Rhys! #this is like #'becuse i know you. that's how i know.'