#which is why i had to step in to begin with

[shortnspidey]

PERILOUS SKIES

Bob Floyd X Fem!Seresin!reader || WC: 6.9K

SUMMARY: Dating Bob Floyd had been nothing short of perfect. The sweet, ever-attentive WSO felt like he’d walked straight out of a rom-com. That’s why, when your scheduled date night arrives and he doesn’t show, your mind immediately begins to spiral. It’s so unlike him, so out of character, that you can’t stop replaying every possible reason in your head. As the hours stretch on, worry takes hold, deep down, you can feel something’s wrong.

WARNINGS: Established relationship, cursing, talks of minor injuries, minor talks of violence, overall fluff, steamy kiss, slight angst, typical Hangman behavior, incorrect military details (sorry)!

A/N: Ugh! I need a man like Bob! 😫 I have been sucked back into my 2022 Top Gun era and Lewis Pullman has me in such a chokehold which is why this was written. Hope y’all enjoy! Divider by @thecutestgrotto <3

➩ main masterlist

➩ bob floyd masterlist

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d fall for a military man. Not because you didn’t respect them, you did. You’d seen what that kind of life demanded: the discipline, the bravery, the sacrifices. But you'd also seen the ego, the recklessness, and the emotional walls that seemed to come with the uniform. You knew their type, inside and out. Especially because you were raised right alongside one.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin wasn’t just your older brother. He was a force of nature, sharp smile, sharper jawline, and enough swagger to make heads turn before he even stepped foot in a room. He’d always been that way. The golden boy. The daredevil. The protector. And as his little sister, you were someone he guarded with his life. Especially, when it came to men.

Every birthday party, every school dance, every casual dinner date you attempted growing up had been intercepted by Jake. Sometimes he scared them off with a pointed glare. Sometimes it was a not-so-subtle, “I’m watching you.” And sometimes it was just his mere presence, standing a little too close, arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for an excuse to break someone’s nose.

At first, it had almost been sweet, he was simply looking out for you. But as the years passed, it became suffocating. You weren’t fragile. You didn’t need saving. And yet, he treated you like some porcelain doll that might crack if someone so much as looked at you the wrong way. God forbid it was someone in the Navy. It was safe to say that you had grown so tired of flight suits.

That’s why you built a life as far away from that world as you could. Your work meant everything to you. You were a licensed therapist, specializing in trauma and stress-related disorders, an emotionally demanding job, but one that gave you purpose. You spent your days helping others unpack the things they carried, offering a safe space for people to speak their truth, even when it broke your heart.

You had your own small private practice just off base, tucked into a converted bungalow with soft lighting and calming artwork on the walls. It smelled faintly of lavender and worn paperbacks, and your bookshelf overflowed with psychology texts, handwritten notes, and dog-eared poetry collections. Your life was rooted in listening. In feeling. In forming connections.

And if, some nights, the weight of everyone else’s pain lingered in your chest, well, you’d made peace with that. You had your quiet apartment, your plants, your routines. You knew how to breathe through the noise. You were proud of what you’d built. Which made what happened next was all the more unexpected. You weren’t planning to go out that night.

It had been a long, exhausting week, three new clients, a crisis session, and a war veteran who hadn’t said a single word until your fifth session together. You were mentally and physically drained, emotionally raw. You had planned to stay in, maybe order Thai food and watch something mindless just to silence your thoughts. But your phone lit up with a message from Penny.

Swing by the Hard Deck tonight. First drink’s on me! 🍹

You almost said no.

But, surprisingly, something pushed you to say yes. So without thinking too much, you slipped into an orange sundress, threw on your favorite sandals, and drove the familiar road to the beach. As always, the Hard Deck buzzed with music, laughter, and the sound of boots hitting the wooden floors. The scent of sea salt and beer filled the air, and the jukebox was already playing something classic, probably something from Maverick’s rotation.

You knew half the faces there. A few pilots you’d grown up around. Some you had met through Jake. Speaking of Jake, of course he was already there, was holding court by the pool table, cue stick in hand, that ever-confident grin on his face. Same old scene. Same old bar. Penny spotted your first, waving you over as she started making your go-to drink. You smiled, walking over and giving her a hug behind the bar.

“Here, looks like you need it.” You smiled, accepting the fruity cocktail from her hands. As she attended to the other bar patrons, you sat in a nearby stool, fully intending to linger just long enough to be polite before heading back out so that you could crawl into bed by 10PM. Only, the universe seemed to have different plans, because that's when you saw him. He was tucked away in the corner of the bar, half-shadowed by the low glow of the neon beer signs above.

He sat with a bottle of beer in hand, long fingers loosely curled around the neck of it, his posture slightly hunched like he was doing his best not to take up too much space. His glasses were a little fogged from the humidity, slipping just slightly down the bridge of his nose. He reached up now and then to adjust them, eyes flicking around the bar like he was trying to blend into the furniture.

Not hiding, exactly, just keeping to himself. He wasn’t laughing with the others, wasn’t showing off at the dartboard, and he definitely wasn’t trying to flirt with anyone. In a room full of men with too much confidence and not enough subtlety, he was different. You couldn’t look away. There was something almost disarming about how awkward he looked. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands or where to rest his gaze.

But even in all that quiet discomfort, there was something gentle about him. You were too far in your head when he looked up, and caught you staring. Your breath hitched, just slightly. But instead of looking away like most people would, he offered a sheepish, crooked smile. And you smiled back, because how could you not? He dropped his gaze immediately, taking a sip of his beer like maybe he was embarrassed by the brief moment of eye contact.

It only made him even more endearing.

You turned back toward Penny behind the bar, trying to play it cool, but your voice betrayed your interest. “Hey Penny, who’s the guy in the corner?” Penny followed your gaze, then gave you a knowing little smile. “That’s Bob.” You hummed, faking interest, taking a sip of your drink. “Lieutenant Robert Floyd. WSO. Flies backseat for Phoenix.” She added casually, wiping down a glass. “One of the good ones. Real quiet, but sweet as hell. Kind of Jake’s opposite.”

That earned a short laugh out of you. “So, he's not a pilot?” You smiled behind the rim of your glass. “He is, technically. But he’s the kind that listens more than he talks.” Penny raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you interested?” Instead of responding, you glance over your shoulder again. Bob was staring down at the condensation on his bottle, idly tracing circles with his fingertip like he’d rather be anywhere else, and yet, somehow, he didn’t look miserable.

Just… out of place.

“Maybe.” You murmured, trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth betrayed you in the form of heat creeping up the back of your neck. You lifted your drink to cover the slight twitch of a smile you couldn’t suppress. Penny leaned in with a smirk, wiping down the bar like she wasn’t studying your every move. “Then don’t wait too long,” She coaxed under her breath, voice teasing. “Use that Seresin charm. Guys like that don’t usually make the first move.”

You glanced back at him. He was still in the corner, tracing the rim of his bottle with his thumb, eyes low, posture slightly slouched like he was trying to shrink himself into the background. But something about him, it tugged at you. Maybe it was the way his eyes had flicked toward you moments ago, a little wide, like he couldn’t believe someone like you had noticed him. Like he wasn’t used to being seen.

Or maybe, just maybe, you were tired of playing it safe. Tired of living under your brother’s ever-watchful gaze. Tired of waiting for permission you never needed in the first place. Your fingers tightened around the glass as you made your decision. You slid off your stool, smoothing down your dress like it could steady your nerves, and crossed the bar, each step quickening your heartbeat. “Mind if I sit?” You asked, voice smooth, chin tilted ever so slightly in confidence, fake or not.

He looked up at you, caught off guard. His expression flickered,first surprise, then something gentler. He cleared his throat, straightening a little. “Uh—yeah. I mean, no. I don’t mind.” You smiled and took the seat beside him, the wood cool against your skin as you eased into it. “Thanks, I’m Y/N.” You extended your hand across the small gap between you. The contact was instant, his larger palm warm, slightly rough from flight gloves, his grip unsure but respectful nonetheless.

“B-Bob,” He mumbled out. “Well, Robert. But, um… everyone calls me Bob.” You smiled, loving how blush dusted his cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Bob,” You let his name linger, giving it weight as your gaze swept over his face, softer up close, his features earnest and boyish beneath his glasses which hid his captivating cerulean blue eyes. “So… you always hang out in dark corners, or is tonight a special occasion?” The edges of his mouth twitched with a quiet, amused smile.

“Just trying to stay out of the way.” You raised a brow, slightly leaning into him so your shoulders were touching. “Of who?” You teased, head tilting. “The loud ones? Or the terrifying older brothers?” That made his eyes widen slightly behind his lenses, and you didn’t miss the way he stiffened, the realization hitting like a gust of wind. He blinked once. Then again. “Y-You’re… Hangman’s sister?” You sipped your drink, nodding slowly. “Guilty as charged, Lieutenant.” You winked as Bob stared for a moment.

You could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes, fast, nervous, cautious. “You gonna run, Bob?” You asked, eyebrow lifting, lips curved just enough to keep it playful. You wouldn’t have blamed him. You were used to that look. You’d seen it before on a dozen other faces. Guys who decided no girl was worth catching hell from Jake Seresin. But Bob surprised you. He didn’t bolt. Didn’t stammer out a goodbye or glance over his shoulder like he was looking for an exit.

Instead, he just smiled, really smiled, and for the first time, something inside you fluttered. His whole face shifted when he did, gentle and sincere, like the smile had been waiting for the right moment to be let out. His shoulders dropped, and the tension in his spine eased as his nerves melted into quiet warmth. The corners of his eyes crinkled behind his glasses, and the golden bar light caught the faint dimple in his cheek, softening his whole demeanor.

Something about it, about him, felt honest. “Not unless you tell me to.” His voice was low, laced with a touch of humor, but no hint of fear whatsoever. And that was it. And you knew then… you were in trouble. Of course, right on cue, nothing good in your life ever slipped past Jake unnoticed. And the moment your brother spotted you talking to someone, especially someone in uniform, he made a beeline across the bar like a guided missile.

“Seriously?” He muttered under his breath, then louder. “She’s off-limits.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, the heavy weight of it both familiar and infuriating, while his eyes narrowed at Bob like he’d caught him trying to hack into the Pentagon. His voice was low and sharp. “I mean it, Floyd.” To Bob’s credit, he didn’t bristle or shrink away. He didn’t puff his chest or try to argue. He just gave a small, respectful nod, calm, measured. “Understood.” You expected him to walk away after that.

Hell, Jake even expected him to.

That was usually the part where most men retreated, tail between their legs, deciding no woman was worth facing down a protective older brother with a reputation like Hangman’s. But Bob surprised you. Later that night, long after the initial rush of aviators had moved on to games of pool and darts, and Jake had wandered off to trash-talk some poor soul at the dartboard, you found yourself by the jukebox, flipping through the cracked plastic covers of old CDs. Then, a quiet voice spoke up from behind you.

“I know your brother’s... protective,” Protective was one way to put it, you thought to yourself. You glanced up from flipping through the CD’s as Bob shifted his weight from one foot to another, hands in the pockets of his khakis, standing just far enough away to give you space, but close enough that you could feel the sincerity in his tone. “But I’d still like to buy you a drink and maybe talk some more. I-If that’s alright with you of course.” You looked up, surprised and maybe a little impressed.

It was more than alright.

You gave him a nod, and the two of you sat at the end of the bar, away from prying eyes and Jake’s over-the-top dramatics. Conversation flowed easier than you expected. Bob wasn’t flashy or performative, he was thoughtful. Funny in a dry, unexpected way. A little awkward, but charmingly so. That night turned into another. Then a real date. Then two. Then weeks of texts that made you smile at your phone like a teenager. Things didn’t move fast, they didn’t need to. With Bob, it was steady.

He remembered your favorite drink after the first time you ordered it. He walked you to your car every time, even if it meant doubling back on his own route. He asked about your day and actually listened, not just to respond, but to understand. He never interrupted. Never made you feel small. He laughed at your jokes, even the bad ones. He offered his hoodie on breezy beach nights without saying a word. And even had this quiet habit of checking on you.

Whether it was a text at the exact right time. A glance across a room that grounded you. And maybe most surprising of all, he made you feel safe. It didn’t matter that he flew backseat for one of the Navy’s best pilots. That he was part of a squad who took down a nearly impossible mission. That half the base jokingly called him “baby-on- board.” None of that defined him.

What mattered was that when you were with him, for the first time in years, you didn’t feel like someone’s little sister. You didn’t feel like someone to be guarded or shielded or spoken for. You just felt seen. Of course, that didn’t mean you were ready to throw it in Jake’s face. For a while, you and Bob kept things quiet. It wasn’t that you were ashamed, far from it. But you both agreed: Jake didn’t need to know just yet. You liked the way things were. Soft. Sacred. Yours.

Besides, the moment your brother found out you were seeing someone, especially someone on his squadron, he’d lose his mind. So you kept your dates discreet. Stolen kisses in parked cars. Quick coffee dates before his briefings. Whispered conversations during beach bonfires where no one was paying attention. And on one particularly slow afternoon, he stopped by your office. Your practice had just closed for the day. The soft hum of the white noise machine still filled the room, and the late sun poured through the windows.

Bob was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, pretending to read the spines of your books, psychology texts, self-help, a few novels tucked in like secrets. “I still can’t believe you keep a weighted blanket in your office.” He teased lightly, eyes glued to your legs as you reached for your laptop. “Trauma work, remember? Nervous systems love pressure. Plus, it’s cozy.” Bob stepped closer, a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. “You’re cozy.” You mirrored his smile, letting out a lovesick giggle before you could stop it.

“Are you trying to flirt with me using therapeutic language?” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief stepping closer. “Is it working?” You laughed, and before you could answer, his lips were on yours. It was supposed to be just one kiss. A quick goodbye before he headed back to base, enough to hold you off until you could get your hands on him later that night. But then your back hit the wall, and his hands cupped your jaw like he was memorizing every curve of your face.

You instinctively melted into him, fingers curling into his fitted white t-shirt that had no business making his biceps look that good. His lips pressed to yours, slow at first, soft and searching, but it deepened quickly. His hands found your waist, sliding over the thin fabric of your blouse, fingers splaying wide as if to anchor himself in the feel of you. Bob groaned quietly into your mouth, the sound low, needy, almost reverent. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, tentative but eager, and you welcomed him in with a soft, breathy moan.

Your hands fumbled for his collar, pulling him closer, grounding yourself in the way he tasted. One of his hands slid up your side, fingers brushing under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingertips grazing the bare skin of your ribs. You shivered at the contact, arching into him instinctively. His other hand cupped the back of your neck, thumb stroking just below your ear as his mouth moved with yours, deeper, hungrier.

Your nails scraped lightly through his hair, mussing it from its neat comb, and that earned you another quiet groan that vibrated against your lips. The air between you felt heavy, time blurred. Nothing existed beyond the feel of his body against yours, the way he kissed you like he was starved for it, like he’d been holding back for weeks. Maybe he had. Your hips shifted, a little too eager, and you felt the subtle hitch of his breath as his hand gripped tighter at your waist, holding you there.

Which is how you didn’t hear the office door creak open until: “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You both froze. Your lips were still tangled. Bob’s hand was still under your shirt. And Jake Seresin was standing in the doorway of your office, expression stuck somewhere between outrage and horror. You sprang apart, your heartbeat plummeted. And Bob, poor Bob, froze in place like someone had pulled the eject handle. Jake stood in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw clenched, face unreadable.

A vein twitched in his temple. “Jake—” You started, breathless, smoothing down your blouse. “It’s not, well, it is what it looks like, but—" Busted. “Of all the people,” Jake let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh, dragging a hand down his face, then pinching the bridge of his nose like it physically pained him to witness what was happening. “Baby-on-board? Seriously, Y/N?!”

You instinctively stepped in front of Bob, shielding him with your body like your brother might actually tackle him through your office window. “Jake. Don’t.” Bob, didn’t move. His back was straight, blue eyes wide behind fogged-up glasses, lips parted as if mid-apology. His cheeks were flushed, his t-shirt slightly wrinkled from where your hands had just been. “I, uh… hi, Hangman." He offered awkwardly, pushing his glasses up with a shaky hand.

Jake stared at him, hard. Like he was cycling through a mental list of disciplinary actions and weighing the pros and cons of each one. “I told you once,” He growled slowly, voice like ice cracking. “My little sister is off-limits.” You stepped in again, squaring your shoulders, chin lifting. “And I told you I’m not twelve.” There was a beat of silence. Then Jake turned to you, jaw tight, mouth slightly open like he wanted to argue, but the fire behind his eyes dimmed.

You saw it, the shift. That split-second of hesitation. The realization. You weren’t his kid sister anymore, sneaking candy into movie theaters or crying over scraped knees. You weren’t some fragile thing he had to wrap in bubble wrap and keep hidden from the world. You were a grown woman. And you’d made your choice. “I’m your big brother,” He muttered voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

Your expression softened, shoulders dropping. “You always have. Better than anyone, but you don’t have to protect me from Bob. He'd never hurt me.” You glanced over your shoulder, eyes meeting Bob’s. Jake exhaled sharply through his nose and looked between the two of you. At Bob, still standing there like a soldier awaiting his court-martial. And at you, arms folded, gaze unwavering. After a pregnant pause, a long, reluctant sigh left his chest. “Are you really into him?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I am.” Jake stared at him for another long second, then finally, finally, cracked the smallest smirk. “Jesus Christ. If this is happening, I don’t want to hear about it and I definitely don’t want to see it.” He turned toward the door, muttering under his breath. “Shit, I need bleach for my poor eyes.” Then, he paused and glanced back “If you break her heart, Floyd, I don’t care how good of a WSO you are, I will make you wish you had ejected mid-flight.” Bob swallowed visibly and nodded.

“Understood.” You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lifted. It wasn’t exactly a blessing. But from Jake Seresin? It sure as hell was close enough. You smiled at the memory, lips curling as your thoughts drifted back. Since then, Jake had slowly eased up, still overbearing at times, but less of an asshole, finally starting to accept the reality that you and Bob were together. It wasn’t instant, but it was progress.

Maybe it was the way Bob never rose to Jake’s bait, or maybe it was how he treated you, with a kind of quiet reverence that left little room for protest. Because Bob was nothing but attentive. The kind of man who remembered how you took your coffee, who sent midday check-in texts just to ask how your sessions had gone, who looked at you like you were his entire goddamn universe. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, seen, cherished.

Which is why, when your usual Thursday night rolled around, the one night you always carved out for each other, and Bob didn’t show… something inside you spiraled. You’d cleaned the apartment, lit one of your favorite candles, even queued up Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith knowing it was one of his favorites. His favorite hoodie was draped over the back of the couch, the one he always “forgot” to take home because he liked the way it smelled after you wore it.

The popcorn was in the bowl. The wine was chilling in the fridge. Take-out menus were on the coffee table. Everything was ready. Except him. You glanced at the clock. Once. Then again. Then again, your eyes flicking to the screen, then to the door, like maybe he’d appear if you wished hard enough. Each time, you brushed it off with a quiet, He’s probably still at the hangar. You knew the drill. Sometimes they got grounded late, schedules shifted.

But the minutes stretched into an hour. Then two. Still no text. No call. Just eerie silence. And Bob? When it came to date night, Bob was never late. When your phone finally rang, the shrill tone sliced through the stillness, making you jump. You scrambled for it, heartbeat thudding against your ribs as your thumb slid to answer without even checking the caller ID on the screen. “Hey, handsome,” You breathed out. “Are you on your way home yet?” Only, it wasn’t Bob’s voice that answered.

“Aww, Y/N,” Came the familiar, cocky drawl you had grown familiar with. “I knew you were lying to me all those times you called me ugly.” Your jaw clenched. Your eyes rolled before your brain could catch up. “Jake,” You snapped, already pacing. “What the hell, where’s Bob? Why are you calling me?” Your brother’s voice cut through the line, irritatingly casual. “Sorry for the late notice, but your beau isn’t making it to date night.” The floor practically dropped out from under you.

“What?! Why? Jake, what happened?” You barely heard yourself over the rush in your ears. Your pulse kicked up, adrenaline beginning to surge. He ignored the edge in your voice, brushing off your panic like it was nothing more than static. “Just come to base. I’ll be waiting at the gate to escort you inside.” Then the line went dead. You stared at your phone for a second, willing it to light up again, to clarify, to make sense. It didn’t.

Just the reflection of your stunned face in the dark screen. “God, I hate when he does that.” You muttered, voice low and sharp as you shoved the phone into your back pocket. Without wasting another breath, you yanked Bob’s hoodie over your head, feet shoving into the nearest pair of sneakers, fingers scrambling for your keys. Your heart thudded in your throat as you raced down the stairs, and out the door.

The base wasn’t far, thankfully. About a twenty-minute drive. You didn’t floor it, but your foot stayed heavy on the gas, knuckles white around the steering wheel. Your thoughts circled and twisted with every mile: Was he hurt? Why didn’t Bob call you himself? Was Jake just being dramatic, or worse, trying to protect you from something serious? By the time you reached the gate, your nerves were all over the place.

True to his word, Jake was waiting just past the security checkpoint, casual as ever, like this was a run-of-the-mill errand. You flashed your ID to the guard, who barely glanced at it before waving you through. You didn’t even bother straightening the car when you parked. The engine had barely cut before you threw the door open and leapt out. “Jake,” You barked, striding toward him with a glare. “You have one minute to explain yourself before I kick the shit out of you. Where’s Bob?”

Your brother slung an arm around your shoulder like this was all completely normal. The audacity of it made your teeth grit. “Relax, baby-on-board is fine.” He muttered, steering you forward. “Don’t call him that. How many times do I have to tell you before it sticks?” You snapped, elbowing him lightly. Jake lifted both hands in mock surrender, grinning like this was all part of a joke only he found funny. “Alright, alright fine. Just… follow me.” And without another word, he led you deeper into the base.

Your steps faltered, just slightly, as dread started to pool low in your stomach. Because something wasn’t right. You could feel it. Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Jake led you down the familiar corridor toward the medical bay. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the air, too clean, way too quiet. Your heart pounded harder with every step. Then you saw them, Maverick and Bradley, standing a few feet away near the nurses’ station, mid-conversation.

Or they had been. The second their eyes landed on you and Jake, their voices cut off like a switch had been flipped. “Mav,” You rasped, your voice laced with urgency as your eyes locked on his. They both turned fully now, posture straightening. Bradley offered a tense smile as he stepped forward to greet you, arms opening automatically. You didn’t hesitate, letting yourself fall into the hug, if only for the brief comfort of familiar arms and the steady heartbeat beneath his civilian clothes.

“Where’s Bob?” You asked again, for what felt like the hundredth time. The question burned now, raw and desperate, clawing up your throat. Maverick moved closer, his expression calm but lined with concern. “He’s alright,” He began, voice steady, measured, but the silence that followed said otherwise. The look, the flicker of shared worry between him, Bradley, and Jake did nothing to settle the growing storm in your chest. You could feel it building, pressure against your ribs.

Maverick exhaled slowly, like he didn’t want to alarm you but knew sugarcoating it wouldn’t help.“During today’s training, Phoenix and Bob suffered a bird strike. The impact triggered an engine fire, which spread fast and caused a total systems failure, both engines, and hydraulic controls.” Your breath hitched. “They had no choice but to eject,” He added, quieter now. “The medics brought them in immediately. They’re stable, conscious, and mostly okay. The doctors are keeping them overnight for observation.”

The words tumbled in slowly, too slow to process all at once. Bird strike. Engine fire. Ejection. The air felt thinner. The hallway longer. Your mouth moved before your brain could catch up. “C-Can I see him?” You asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. Maverick nodded, but you were already moving. Your sneakers squeaked against the linoleum as you bolted down the hallway, weaving past a nurse and ignoring the muted “Miss, wait—” that came from someone behind the desk.

When you spotted the door at the end of the corridor with Seresin scrawled hastily on the visitor clipboard and Floyd, R./Trace, N. listed beneath it, your chest constricted. You pushed the door open. You spotted Natasha first. She was reclined in the hospital cot closest to the door, propped up slightly by a pair of thin, starch-white pillows. Her skin looked pale under the sterile fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the deep purpling bruise blooming along her cheekbone.

A butterfly bandage held a small cut together above her eyebrow, and her arm, though not in a cast, was wrapped in gauze from wrist to elbow. Still, she was awake. Alert. Breathing. “Nat,” You exhaled, already moving toward her. Her head turned at the sound of your voice. The split-second surprise in her expression melted into something warmer, despite the lingering pain behind her eyes. She pushed herself up with a small wince, the thin hospital blanket slipping off her shoulders.

“Y/N, hey,” She murmured, voice raspy but steady. Your arms were already wrapping around her before you could stop yourself. Your movements slowed as soon as you felt her body tense slightly, stiff from the impact, from the adrenaline still likely fading. She let out a breathy laugh against your shoulder, one arm curling weakly around you. “I’m glad you're here.” She murmured, voice muffled against your sweatshirt. You leaned back slightly to look at her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead, careful not to graze the fresh scrape on her temple.

It was safe to say that ever since you and Bob had started dating, you and Natasha had become inseparable. It started with casual conversations at the Hard Deck that turned into late-night wine nights, venting sessions, and a friendship built on fierce loyalty and shared eye-rolls at the men in your lives. Part of it, no doubt, came from the fact that she and Bob were more than just teammates, they were a crew. They trusted each other with their lives, and somewhere along the way, that trust naturally extended to you.

“I’m just glad you’re both okay.” You whispered. Natasha gave you a faint, lopsided smile, tired but genuine. “Yeah, well, Bob took the worst of it. I was lucky.” Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even seen him yet. The cot next to hers was shielded slightly by a privacy curtain pulled partway across, and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe fast enough. Your eyes darted toward the edge of the curtain. “He’s awake. A little banged up. But, he’s been asking for you since we were brought in here.”

That was all it took. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze and whispered. “I’ll be right back.” Then, without hesitation, you stepped around the curtain, ready to face whatever was waiting on the other side. As soon as you rounded the curtain, your eyes found him. Bob was sitting upright, well, trying to. He winced slightly bracing himself on one elbow as he straightened in the cot, ignoring the tight pull of gauze around his ribs and the IV in his arm. Sensing the presence of someone in the room, he stopped fidgeting, blue eyes meeting yours.

You moved without thinking. The world blurred as you rushed across the room, the cool floor beneath your sneakers giving way to the warmth of his outstretched arms. He barely had time to brace himself before you collided with him, sinking into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso with desperate urgency. He winced, but his hands immediately came up, one cradling the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, the other wrapping tightly around your waist.

His grip was firm, steady, anchored, as if the contact itself might undo the fear that had rooted in both of you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin beneath the sterile tang of antiseptic. His heart was pounding hard beneath your cheek, fast and erratic, matching your own. “Shit, Bobby,” You whispered, voice trembling. “I thought—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. “I know,” He murmured into your hair, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I’m sorry I scared you, sweetheart.” Then, more softly, almost sheepishly, he mumbled into your shoulder. “I’m also sorry I missed date night.” You nearly scoffed, half a laugh, half a sob, as you pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers still tangled in the collar of his shirt. “Date night? Bob, I could care less about date night right now. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Bob’s selflessness never ceased to amaze you, how even through the haze of pain and adrenaline, his first thought had been about you, about letting you down.

As if your heart hadn’t broken in half the moment you realized he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. You clung to him tighter, your arms curling around his back, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt like letting go wasn’t an option. Bodies wound tightly around one another, like you were trying to climb inside his chest and stay there. Like the only way to be sure he was real was to feel every inch of him pressed to you. He exhaled shakily, lips brushing your temple.

“All I kept thinking was that I had to get back to you.”That made your throat tighten even more. Your hand moved instinctively to his face, cupping his cheek, thumb grazing over a scratch along his jawline. His glasses were still slightly askew, and he hadn’t even bothered to fix them, too focused on you. “I’m right here,” He reassured, almost as if sensing your inner turmoil. “I’m okay. We’re okay.” In that moment, he held tightly in his arms, everything faded away.

There was only the thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm and the soft warmth of his breath against your skin. You didn’t want to pull away, but when you finally did, it was only to take in his face. You brushed a thumb gently beneath his eye, tracing the faint bruise that had bloomed along his cheekbone. He looked a little beat up, but to you? He was perfect. Alive. And most importantly, breathing. His eyes met yours, impossibly blue beneath the smudged lenses of his crooked glasses.

They searched your face like he couldn’t quite believe you were here either. Like he was afraid if he blinked, you’d vanish. You leaned in again, this time slower, gentler, your hand cradling the side of his face. His breath caught just before your lips met, as if even now he was asking for permission without words. The kiss that followed was soft. No heat. No urgency. Just a lingering press of your mouths. You could feel the tremble in his shoulders as his hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you there like he needed it as much as you did.

His lips parted slightly against yours, letting out the faintest sigh, and you melted into it, into him, feeling the world finally slow down. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. “I love you.” You whispered, the words weightless, certain. He smiled, eyes closed, breath warm against your cheek. “I love you more.” Just as you were about to lean in for another kiss, the door creaked open behind you. “Fucks sake, not this again.” Came the dry, unmistakable voice of your older brother.

You groaned softly, forehead dropping to Bob’s shoulder as he stifled a wince and a laugh at the same time. You were so close to murdering Jake and becoming an only child. “Do you have some kind of built-in radar for whenever we kiss?” You muttered into Bob’s shirt as his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back. “Apparently,” Jake scoffed, stepping fully into the room, arms crossed, brow raised in brotherly disapproval.

“I give it ten seconds and you look like you’re ready to climb the guy like a tree.” Bob straightened awkwardly, almost like a cadet caught doing something wildly against protocol. His cheeks flushed deep red, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears, and his hands instinctively loosened their hold on you. Before he could scoot even an inch away, your fingers curled gently but firmly around his bicep, grounding him right where he was as you shot Jake a glare. “What do you want now?”

Jake gestured vaguely at the two of you. “Don’t mind me. I’m just checking in on the critically injured WSO who, last I heard, had survived an emergency ejection, a bird strike, and now looks like he’s about two seconds away from a very different kind of cardiac episode, caused, I assume, by my little sister sticking her tongue down his throat.” Bob gave a tiny, nervous cough, his gaze flicking toward the heart monitor as if it might start blaring just to spite him. He wisely chose not to answer.

You smirked, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to Bob’s temple, just to be petty. You felt the way his breath hitched beneath you, the way his fingers curled gently at your waist despite himself. Jake rolled his eyes so hard you were genuinely concerned they might get stuck that way. “I figured you’d be staying the night, so, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. But don’t get any ideas. I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, and I better not walk in on a repeat performance, especially not with Phoenix two feet away.”

From the other side of the curtain, Natasha’s dry voice floated through like a dagger dipped in disinterest: “Fuck off.” You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that almost broke through. “There’s the door, Bagman.” You shot back, raising your middle finger without even looking at him. With one last grumble and an eye roll that nearly cracked his skull, Jake pulled back the curtain dramatically and disappeared down the hall, muttering something about needing a drink.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Bob let out a soft breath, his entire body seeming to relax now that Jake had exited the room. He didn’t even need to ask. With a quiet grunt, he shifted on the narrow hospital cot, careful but determined, wincing slightly as he adjusted his IV line and tugged back the scratchy blanket with his good hand. It wasn’t much, but he made space for you like it was second nature, like your place had always been beside him, no matter the circumstances.

Without a word, you discarded your shoes and climbed in next to him, moving slowly, mindful of the bruises you couldn’t see and the ones you knew would surface by morning. The cot creaked under the added weight, but neither of you cared. Your head nestled into the curve of his shoulder, your hand drifting under the soft fabric of his t-shirt, fingers resting on the soft skin of his abdomen, like you just needed to feel he was real.

His arm slid around your waist, drawing you in with a familiarity that made your heart flutter. The other hand found its way into your hair, combing through the strands slowly, rhythmically, like he was soothing both of you at once. His thumb brushed absently along your spine in lazy arcs, and he let out a content when your legs tangled with his beneath the thin blanket.

The room had gone quiet, the soft beeping of monitors fading into the background like a lullaby. Wrapped in his arms, you tilted your head just enough to meet his eyes. “Still worth it?” You whispered, the question edged with lingering fear. Bob didn’t miss a beat. His smile was the same one he’d worn eight months ago, the first time he saw you across the bar. He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“Every single second.”

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

[sturniqlo]

matt and darling go to a wedding

pairing: shy!matt x shy!reader

summary: matt takes darling to his cousins wedding, meaning she'll be meeting his extended family

cw: anxiety, fluff

an: i missed my favorites (also, i changed matt's parents' name) this fic takes place when darling and matt have been dating for almost a year

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | taglist

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

"well, what about this dress?" darling nervously bites at her bottom lip as she holds up a light pink dress to her body. matt, who's sitting on her looks at the dress and nods. "it's pretty—" matt begins to say, but she cuts him off. "ughh, but it kinda looks like it's white!" she groans and tosses it to the dress pile that has begun to form on her floor.

"matt, i don't think i can go." she pouts and crawls into his lap. "why not, darling? all of those dresses were beautiful, and would look even more beautiful on you." he pulls back to look at her face and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "but they're not the dress, babe." her eyes begin to gloss over. "hey, hey, hey. it's okay, yeah? i really want you to go, but if you don't feel comfortable i won't force you." he kisses her forehead. "no, no, i really do want to go. but, i— ughh. i hate this!" she groans and throws her face into his neck.

"look at me, darling." he says softly. "hm?" she hums and pulls away, the pout still on her face and matt just wants to kiss it off. "let's keep looking, yeah? you've got so many other pretty dresses." he pats her hip. "okay, you'll help me, right?" she toys with the necklace on his chest that matches hers. "of course i will." he finally pecks her lips.

after many more dresses and a couple of tears shed, darling and matt finally chose the dress. it was a simple sage colored silk dress. it accentuated her curves and made her eyes pop. matt threw his suit on once she had started on her hair and makeup, "baby, what shade would look better? this one? or— this one?" darling held up two tubes of lips gloss. "umm," matt looked at one bottle first and then her lips, and then the dress and did the same for the next bottle. "that one." he point to the right one.

once they were both ready to go, darling grabbed her shoulder bag and threw in a few makeup supplies, gum, and her phone. "ready?" matt came up behind her and hugged her waist, kissing her cheek. "mhm, i'm ready." she smiled at him. "you look really good in this." she said, turning around to face him, and she gently tugged on the jacket. "thank you, darling. you look very gorgeous."

in the car, matt's hand was on her thigh for the whole hour and forty minute drive to the wedding venue, which happened to be on his grandparents' land. and from the pictures matt had shown her, it was absolutely beautiful! when matt's dad had asked matt's grandpa for his permission to marry his daughter, obviously he had said yes, and he built the barn like reception building for her. and since then, every wedding in matt's family was on his grandparents' land.

and for a second, darling imagined if her and matt's wedding would be there as well.

"pretty, we're here." darling felt a series of kisses planted on her cheek and nose. she squirmed in her seat and opened her eyes to see matt standing next to outside of the car. "we're here?" her voice full of sleep. matt chuckled. "mhm, and we're a bit early, too. not many people here yet." he said, as she unbuckled herself and stretched. once she stepped out of the car, she looked around the makeshift parking lot, which was just gravel and supposedly the driveway from what matt had told her, and there were less than ten cars.

"i think they're still setting up." matt closed the door behind her and grabbed her hand as he led the way. "are your parents and nick 'nd chris here, yet?" she asked since she didn't see the family car in the lot. "yeah, they are. their car is just pulled up to the barn since my mom brought some decorations." he swung their hands. darling looked around the land and noticed the house nearby, another mini house which matt had told her was used as storage, and towards the end near a small pond was the barn. outside of there were chairs set up and a makeshift arch filled with flowers. it was very beautiful.

"it's cute around here. did you spend a lot of time here?" she asked him and they continued their slow walk. "mhm, me, chris, nick, and the rest of our cousins liked to spend our summer here. there used to be a tire swing over by that tree," he pointed to a tall tree near the barn. "but, my cousin, rick, he pushed chris too hard that the rope ripped. we were all like fifteen when that happened and grandpa didn't wanna fix it anymore, said the tire was too old already. but when my older cousins started having kids, he put a new one in and reinstalled the old playground too."

she smiled at the thought that matt's family was huge and all very close with each other. darling has never really experienced such a bond with her extended family. both pairs of her grandparents had unfortunately passed away in her early years of life. and her most of her aunts and uncles had problems with her parents, meaning she also had no close bond with her cousins. however, she had two loyal aunts, one on each side, who she'd see often and hang out with those cousins. "that's so sweet, babe." she grinned up at matt who blushed.

once they reached the barn, matt's mom and dad were both coming out at the same time. "hey you two!" matt's mom, kate, gasped when she saw her son and daughter-in-law, she loved to call darling that. "hey, mom." matt gave her a hug. and matt's dad, mark, came up to you and hugged you. "hey, kiddo." he said to darling. "hi mark, looking fancy." darling said as she pulled away, and kate came right away to her and hugged her. "you two look very fancy as well." mark said to both darling and matt. "kate, you look amazing! i love this color on you!" darling complimented her as mark and matt went into their own conversation. "really? thank you, hon! i tried something new! but look at you! you're so gorgeous, darling!" darling was pulled in for another hug.

kate and mark had to run into the main house for a couple of things leaving darling and matt alone again— just for a couple of seconds until they both heard chris' call out. "look at mr. fancy pants over here!" chris said as he and nick approached the two to them. "shut up." matt mumbled. "and mrs. fancy dress over here." chris said giving darling a side hug and then matt. "girl, you look so good!" nick said her giving her a hug.

nick and chris eventually went their own ways when they saw two of their cousins, which darling has met before when the group had gone bowling during spring break. "is that my matt?" darling and matt heard a voice. the both of them turned around as it was an older woman. "grandma!" matt said, a grin appeared on his face. from what matt told darling, he was the closest one to his grandma. "oh wow, this must be the girl you've been gushing about!" his grandma, alison, smiled at you. "oh she is, this is darling! darling, this is my grandma!" he introduced the both. "hello, it's nice to meet you." darling said shyly, sticking out her hand, but alison chuckled and pulled her in for a hug.

"it's nice to finally meet you after all this time!" alison said. "i've heard so much about you, darling." she said once they pulled back and darlings face was blushing. "matt, have you shown her around the land?" alison asked. "somewhat, just the barn as of now. i'll probably show her later during the party." alison hummed at matt's answer. "well, it was finally nice to meet you, but i've gotta check on bridezilla and make sure she hasn't pulled at anyone's hair." the three of them laughed and alison waved goodbye. "she was so sweet, i see why you're so close to her." matt blushes once more. "you did so great, darling. i told you everything was going to be fine." he places a kiss on her forehead.

since the ceremony wasn't for another hour, matt decided to show her around the land more since they had time. "i'd show you the main house, but i'm pretty sure it's hectic in there right now with everyone getting ready. so, let's go to my favorite part." matt held her hand and walked her to a small bridge that was over the small pond. "oh, this is cute!" darling gasped when she saw how decorated the pond was and how there was fishes in the pond as well. "yeah, my grandpa come out here every morning to feed 'em and add some more decorations my grandma finds." matt leaned against the raining. "it's my favorite spot because you can see everything from over here, but it's also kinda hidden."

"how often would you come to the bridge?" darling ran her hand up and down his arm. "literally everytime i would come over and stay the night. if i were staying for the summer, i would come here for an hour. grandma says that when nick, chris or any of my other cousins would ask for me, she would say im in my 'matt hour' and to leave me alone. they'd never listen and come bug me anyway." he chuckles at the memories and wraps his arm around her waist. "how're you liking it so far? i know you haven't met many people." matt presses a kiss to her hair.

"i like it here, actually. it's very pretty and peaceful out here. and i'm still kinda nervous to meet others." she looks up at him. "well, my grandma loves you already, i'd say you'll be fine." he smiles.

when the guest began to start arriving and taking their seat in the rows, darling and matt had ventured to get a good spot. on the way there, darling met matt's grandpa, paul, and all of matt's older cousins along with their spouses and children. and luckily, the meetings had all went very well. when the two got seats, darling let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. "you okay?" matt draped his arm over the back of her chair. "mhm, just happy everything is going well so far, everyone is so nice. especially your grandparents, i see where your dad gets it from." matt nods. "all you have left are a few cousins, and my aunts and uncles."

the ceremony was absolutely beautiful, that darling shed a few tears during it. matt's cousin, marley, looked like a princess in her white wedding dress. darling just loves love. during the ceremony she didn't meet anyone else as they were sat next to matt's parents and brothers and family that belonged to the groom, which meant matt didn't know who they were either.

the guest had made their way into the barn as marley and the bridesmaids went back into the main house so she'd change into her reception dress. "that's is our table over there—" matt's hand was on darlings lower back when someone called out matt's name. "matt, long time no see." it was matt's uncle, bryan, who was also the brides dad. he was standing next to his wife giselle, the mother of the bride. "is this who i think it is?" giselle gasped.

darling had the first and only girl matt has ever brought to meet the family. when the word had gotten around that matt was seeing darling, it came as a shock to everyone because he had never dated anyone. "guys, this is my girlfriend, darling." his hand sat on her lower back. the conversation was cut short due to the dj announcing that the newlyweds were about to make their entrance.

sometime during the reception, darling got up to get a refill on her drink when someone tapped her shoulder. she turned around and saw that it was marley, the bride. "darling right?" she said. "yeah, yeah that's me." darling said shyly. "oh wow! it's so nice to finally meet you." she pulled her in for a hug. "it's nice to meet you too, you're wedding is so beautiful. you looked so pretty in your dress." darling told her. "thank you so much! i'm so glad you were able to come with matt! the whole family has been dying to meet you, darling!"

matt soon came out of the bathroom and spotted darling and marley right away. darling looked to be comfortable in the conversation with his cousin, so he decided to head back to their table and not interrupt the conversation. soon, darling returned with a soft smile on her face and a refilled cup in her hand. "saw you with marley," matt started and rested his arm on the back of her chair. "how was that?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder. "it was good, and like everyone else she was really sweet." darling rested her head on matt's shoulder.

"told you, you had nothing to worry about. i think i've talked about you enough that they didn't even have to meet you to love you." he kissed her hair. "thank you for bringing me here."

"of course. i brought you to meet the rest of my family because i believed and you are forever. you're stuck with me now." he smiled.

[hahaifolded]

hello!!!!!

I don’t know if this is a stupid or unnecessary ask but how would Kyle and the team react to Soap and Reader’s break up? Would they notice a difference since Soap wouldn’t be so happy and loud anymore? Maybe he would just whine and complain the whole time, and it happened too much that one of them pushed him to confess what happened (I would believe that to be Kyle since we called him and not the captain or such). I might be going off topic and beginning to rant right here, I am so sorry!!!! 🫶🏽

Enjoy this rough, continuation of Cellophane (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x POC!GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, ANGST (racism), comparatively not as bad as the first part, Johnny still sucks however, mid-writing, abrupt ending Author's Note: You know what, I wasn't going to do a part two but I read this and boom... thoughts! Thank you for the ask, @shitaaba

Has the sun ever felt better on his skin? Gaz doesn’t think so.

What a perfect day! No early meetings or training. Sun is shining, the town isn’t too busy, and Kyle finally has time to hit that coffee shop you and Johnny showed him all those months ago. 

You and Johnny… what a beautiful couple. Well mostly you but Kyle will keep that to himself as he doesn’t need Johnny on his back for “fucking you with his eyes” again. His teammate sure is a lucky man, especially since Kyle isn’t a homewrecker, because if Gaz had his way, you’d be right next to h— 

“Ah!” Kyle quickly grabs at the poor soul that he smacked into. 

“Shit, so sorry. Are you ok… oh, it’s you!” he first apologizes then gleams. What a strange coincidence. Is this manifestation? 

You look up and immediately pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as they wander for a quick getaway. “Don’t even worry about it. If you’ll excuse me,” you rush out as you side-step Kyle. 

Kyle blocks you and throws you a warm smile as an attempt to ease your embarrasment. “Woah, woah, why the rush? It’s been awhile. What, Johnny has you caged up?” Gaz laughs at his own joke. He thought that would for sure make you laugh. It doesn’t.

Your face falls, and for the first time ever, Kyle sees you shrink. Your energy completely dissipates as discomfort overtakes you. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Kyle softens his voice and reaches out, laying a gentle hand on your upper arm in an attempt to lift you up. You slowly step away from it which only worries Kyle more. “What happened? Did Johnny do something?” 

“John and I broke up.” 

-- -- --

“Up for drinks tonight boys? My treat,” announces Price at the end of the team meeting.

“Sure.”

“As long as you pay, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Can’t.”

“Again Johnny? This is the fifth time you’ve bailed on us,” Ghost remarks. 

Soap lets out a deep laugh. “You’re just bitter that I have something sweeter waiting for me at home.” Ghost rolls his eyes while Price laughs. 

“Wanker.” 

Soap, Ghost, and Price all turn towards Kyle. Did he just call Soap a wanker? Why?

“Just a wee joke. Meant no harm,” Soap yields. Gaz just rolls his eyes and continues packing his things. 

Instead of engaging with Gaz, Johnny decides to concede and continue packing. Clearly something is bothering his fellow sergeant but Soap knows it's better to wait until Kyle opens up. And if he’s honest to himself, he really doesn’t have the capacity right now for other people’s problems.  He has enough of his own. 

“Before I forget, ma has been nagging me to bring you guys over for dinner again. Worried that we’re starving or something. Think next week works for all of ya?” 

“Sure.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Your mom okay with me coming?”

Ghost and Price do a double take as Kyle’s question catches them off guard. Kyle pays them no attention as he stares down Soap who’s smile drops. 

However, as fast as it dropped, it immediately reappeared. “What kind of question is that? Course she knows,” the Scotsman smiles. 

Kyle chuckles in disbelief. “Really? So she knows about me but not your bird?” 

“What?” Soap’s entire demeanor changes. His confident, go-lucky self crumbles, now replaced with shame and discomfort. “What are you on about?”

“Mate, you can’t be serious?” Kyle barks. He takes a step forward towards his counterpart but is stopped by a confused, but attentive captain. Price steps in and asks for an explanation. 

Kyle stares Soap down and bites, “you want to tell them or should I?”  All color drains from Soap's face

“That’s enough you two,” Ghost jumps in, unable to take this anymore. “Whatever problems Johnny is having with his bird is between him and—“

“They broke up two months ago!” Kyle finally exclaims. Ghost’s eyes widened. Price’s jaw drops. That made no sense as just last week, Johnny went on and on about the perfect getaway you two went on. Ghost and Price look to Johnny for answers, but with the way Johnny is standing, head down, shoulders slumped, their questions are answered. 

“Johnny, what happened?” Price tries to comfort the Scotsman. He saw how happy you made the sergeant happy. He even had a heart-to-heart with Johnny when he expressed his desire to marry you. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’ll tell you why.” And with that, Kyle goes off. He tells the team how Johnny, despite claiming to love you more than life itself, refused to fight for you. ”I bet you’re just like your parents,” spits Kyle. 

“You don’t get it,” counters Johnny. His face twists in despair. 

“What’s not to get? Your parents are fucking racist and you refuse to do anything about it.” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Johnny is his friend, his comrade, his brother in arms; despite everything they’ve gone through, Kyle thought he could trust the Scotsman. And worst of all, he wasn’t the one who got hurt, it was you, sweet, beautiful you got hurt. “You’re pathetic. You never fucking deserved them!” 

“That’s enough,” Price puts his foot down. His face stern. He gestures to Soap and sends him to his office. Soap drops his head and nods in defeat. As Johnny walks away, Price lets out a deep breath and asks Ghost to watch Kyle before heading off himself.

The lieutenant and sergeant stand in silence as Kyle is way too angry to speak and Ghost is just uncomfortable by the entire situation. Did Johnny really lose you because of his parents? Ghost couldn’t believe it. He’s seen firsthand how Johnny furiously defended you during late nights out at the bar when other soldiers got a little too crude with the way they spoke about you. Ghost personally has had to rip the sergeant off one too many times from rude allies. What made Ghost even more uncomfortable was the amount of time he’s spent with Johnny’s family and never once got the feeling that his parents were racist. They’ve always been kind to the Lietenant. He assumed it was because of his rank or even his own past, never for… 

“Kyle?” Kyle cocks his head towards Ghost, eyes still buring with rage. “Has his parents ever…”

“No,” Kyle admits. He exhales deeply, his shoulders easing a bit. “I mean, there's been some weird comments here and there but I just assumed it was cause they’re old, never…” Kyle trails off, clearly affected by everything. 

Ghost just nods. He stays quiet for a bit until another question pops in his head. “Are they okay?” 

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. “They’re alright. Still hurt but they’ll survive” 

Ghost hums. He has a million other questions but decides to stay quiet. As much as he wants to know how Kyle found out or what (but really who) you’re doing these days, Ghost sees that Kyle is just exhausted. So with that, the two men finish packing in silence. With their bags in hand, they both leave the conference room, walking side by side in the hallway. 

Kyle pulls out his phone and lets out a small chuckle. Ghost can’t help but give Gaz a weird look. What’s so funny? 

“You know something, L.T., I don’t even feel bad anymore.” Ghost tilts his head as Kyle shows him something on his phone.

You: Saturday works for me! 

Word Count: 1246

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

[iandarling]

Ian wakes up in the hospital with memory loss after getting a head injury;

- - - - - - -

“Mr. Gallagher, your husband is here!” said a cheery nurse, waking him up from his groggy sleep. His head was pounding and the light burned his eyes.

Ian had no idea what she was talking about.

The last thing he can remember is smoking weed with Lip as they did each others homework. Lip was always better at maths than him, but Ian excelled at English. So.

“Huh?” He mumbled as his eyes closed and opened again. The light was bright and his leg hurt like a motherfucker. Actually, his leg felt…longer than usual. It was heavier to move, and not just because of the cast.

“Jesus Christ, Ian.” He heard a rough but concerned voice, as a man entered through the open door.

Ian knows he knows that voice. He focused he eyes and stared ridiculously at Mickey fucking Milkovich.

“— and you’re always the one complaining ‘bout me not checking both ways before crossing the road, and now look at ya! A broken leg and a concussion, you scared the fucking shit outta me Ian.” Said Mickey Milkovich as he leaned down and kissed Ian on the mouth.

Mickey kissed him. They had never kissed before. Ian distinctly remembers the other guy saying that kissing was gay, and that he would never do it. Until now.

Wait, husband?

“I don’t know what’s going on.” Ian said dumbly, not sure how to begin forming his thought. Mickey had grown smile-lines, and Ian could see the shadow left from his shaven beard. And he was much taller and broader than he’d ever been before.

Mickey looked older. Much older. Ian was suddenly aware of how long his legs felt, how his toes touched the bed railings, how his arms felt heavier and bigger. His distress must’ve been obvious, because Mickey immediately looked upset.

“Your head hurtin’? Nurse said she gave you the good stuff so you shouldn’t be in pain…” Mickey bit his bottom lip and sucked in some air. He was concerned. Mickey Milkovich was concerned about him.

“Why did the nurse call you my husband?” Ian asked. Before he could get an answer he asked another, “and why do you look so old?”

“That’s a shitty joke, Gallagher,” Mickey began but soon realised Ian was not joking. He must’ve seen the truth on his face, because he took a step back.

“What do you mean, old?” His tone was flippant but Ian could hear the concern underneath it.

“You’re definitely not sixteen anymore,” Ian responded and began touching at his own face. He could feel stubble and his jaw was wider.

“Try twenty-six,” Mickey whispered as Ian gaped in horror. That would make him twenty-four, maybe even twenty-five, if his birthday had passed. What time of year was it?

For some reason Ian found himself instantly believing Mickey words, despite it all sounding insane. Somehow Ian had ended up in the future, a future which contained a calm and gentle Mickey Milkovich. A Mickey who kissed him because they were —

Ian forgot how to breathe. He had a husband.

“We got married!” Ian gushed as he admired Mickey Milkovich standing before him. Ian could feel his cheeks heat up as he smiled at him. Mickeys eyes softened impossibly, a sight Ian had never seen before but knew instantly he wanted to see again.

“Yeah, man. Two years ago. Hold on, I’ll call the nurses or sumthin’ because this ain’t right.” Mickey pressed a button beside Ian’s bed, and moved to open the door.

Ian stopped him by grabbing at his hand. He could feel the cool metal ring against his skin. It was a nice silver colour, perhaps a little basic, but definitely masculine in that way jewellery for men looked. Ian decided he liked it.

“What’s going on, Ian?” His husband asked. Ian had no idea how to answer that.

“I was doing homework with Lip, and then I woke up in this bed, and I’m older and married and my leg fucking hurts.” He blurted out and Mickey looked even more panicked than before.

He gripped a chair with one hand, and pulled it closer to Ian’s bed, sitting down beside him. Ian was still holding his left hand, fingers touching the ring and the rough tattooed skin under it.

“You got hit by a bike on your way home, hit your head pretty bad, and fell on your leg.” Mickey began explaining. A concussion he said, it might explain the headache and confusion.

Ian was twenty-four, an adult, married to Mickey Milkovich.

“I can’t believe we got married,” Ian blushed as he studied the ring some more. As it lifted slightly from the skin, he could peek some letters etched into the inside. Ian.

“I had the biggest crush on you, I was obsessed! And fuck if you don’t look even better as a grown man. God, look at those biceps.” He pretended to ignore his own red face as he soaked in the sight of Mickey in a tight black t-shirt.

“Not too bad looking yourself, stud.” Mickey tried to joke, but Ian could tell he was anxious. His foot was tapping fast on the linoleum floor, and his breathing was getting quicker by the second. Ian felt a need to squeeze his hand in comfort.

A nurse came in, and Mickey began talking. She paged a doctor, and Mickey explained everything again. Ian’s head was still hurting, and his confusion was only getting worse. It didn’t help that his leg was in a cast and he couldn’t move properly.

“Just tell me it’ll be alright,” Mickey pleaded with the nurse who was asking Ian a series of questions. Who’s the president (wrong answer,) what day is it (again, wrong,) what did he have for breakfast (wtf is a chia seed pudding??)

“It is not uncommon with head injuries that a person may experience memory loss, and most of the time their memories will come back within a day or two.” The doctor said as she wrote something down on her clipboard.

Ian felt Mickey squeeze his hand. It was grounding. Safe. Familiar, somehow, even though they never held hands before. But Ian supposed his body might remember things his mind had forgotten.

“The important thing is to keep to your regular schedule, your routines and habits, without overstimulating or overwhelming yourself. I assume you’re going home with your husband? Still, we’d like to keep you for observation for another couple a’ hours.” The doctor said and Ian nodded. He didn’t mind.

“I texted Lip earlier, said he’s on his way. They all are.” Mickey smiled at him and Ian eased up a little. His big brother was coming. They all were, the whole Gallagher clan. Just like they always did — they showed up for one another, come rain or shine, they would always be there.

Ian wondered how they would look all grown up.

“Is there anything else you remember? Try and imagine smells or tastes — our senses are tied closely to our memories.” The nurse spoke gently, and Ian closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could.

Snippets and visions appeared and disappeared just as quickly as he saw them. It was all a mess, like his mind scrambled ten years of memories into soup, but he tried to filter some of it out.

The colour yellow, an ugly suit, mayo?

“We were in prison?!” Ian shouted at Mickey who finally coughed out a laugh. He could remember the cold cell and the itchy suits. Panic consumed him once more.

“Yup. We’re two gay ex-cons, but we have our own legal business now. Renting an apartment on the fucking west side and everything.” Mickey was proud as he spoke, but Ian couldn’t wrap his mind around the prison of it all.

He could smell fire and smoke, but the room he was in was still safe.

“Arson?” He tried a guess and Mickey nodded sheepishly. Fuck.

“Technically you tried to stage a political protest but it sorta ended up violent. Don’t worry, it’s all good now.” He squeezed Ian’s hand again, and he found it comforting.

While he wanted to ask more questions, his train of thoughts were interrupted by a gaggle of Gallaghers entering the room. Lip walked first as expected, but what Ian had not expected was to see him carry a little boy in his arms.

“Eeeeen!” The boy screamed and clapped his hands in his direction. Two years old perhaps, maybe less, Ian wasnt the best at gauging ages.

Everyone looked older. Carl was taller, Debbie had become a young woman, Liam was a whole teenager, and an unknown blonde woman walked with Lip. And who was the little redhead girl who ran up to Mickey with a big grin in her too big boots?

“Uncle Mickey!” She shouted happily and jumped into his lap. Mickey, barely blinking at the onslaught, wrapped an arm around her tiny frame, one hand still holding onto Ian.

“Hey lil red,” He mumbled. The little girl looked just like Debbie did as a child. The same quizzical expression and big grin. Debbie had a daughter, Ian remembered in horror.

Mickey turned his head back to Lip and spoke again. “Ian’s struggling with some memory loss from his concussion. Go easy on ‘im, aight.” It was a threat, but not a dangerous one. Ian knew what those sounded like.

“Hey Ian,” Lip began and moved towards him. The baby in his arms was cooing and clapping his fat hands at Ian. “You remember this one?” He joked, as he held out the little boy.

No, Ian thought to himself. He had no idea who this was. But he knew in his heart that he cared deeply about him. “He’s yours?” He guessed, and Lip nodded in that peculiar way of his. He always seemed to be eight steps ahead of the game.

“You wanna sit with uncle Ian, Freddie?” He asked his son, and without hesitation plunked the little boy down in Ian’s lap. Lip had a son, Ian was an uncle. And he was married to Mickey Milkovich. Turns out the future isn’t all that bad.

Ian held onto the little boy with one arm, and kissed his head. He had always loved babies. As he looked around the room, his eyes landed on his youngest brother. Liam had tears in his eyes as he waved a little. He was no longer a baby.

“Last I saw you, you were still in diapers.” Ian tried to joke, and he heard a few scattered laughs.

“I outgrew them.” Liam joked back. Hearing him speak full sentences threw Ian a little, but he smiled at his siblings and pretended everything was okay. Mickey squeezed his hand again, as if he could magically feel Ian’s distress. Ian squeezed back.

“Heard you broke your leg again, that fucking sucks man.” Carl told him and lifted up the plain blanket to take a look at his cast. So Carl hadn’t changed a bit, that’s good to know.

“I’m Tami, Lips fiancé” The tall blonde girl said, and nodded towards him. Ian smiled back.

“Lucky Lip, poor you.” She laughed, Lip flipped him off. Everything was normal. Ian breathed deeply and tried to remember more. Fiona was not here, because she had left…she had left for Florida of all places. He remembered a picture of her sunburned face under some palm leaves.

When he told the group this they all exhaled in relief and began talking like normal. It seemed his memories would return eventually, he just needed to unscramble the eggs his brain had become.

Thankfully, the nurse had given him some more painkillers, so his head wasn’t hurting him anymore. Ian talked and smiled as he played with Freddie, his nephew, all while holding Mickeys hand. It was pleasant, if not strange, to see his family all grown up.

After a while it was decided the guests would leave, and Mickey could take Ian home.

Home. He had a home he shared with his husband. For a strange reason, Ian could remember the touch of the blue coloured carpet in their living room. Huh.

Mickey handed him some crutches and Ian balanced on them as he got out of bed. His legs were fucking long, and he towered over Mickey. He liked that. Very much.

“Let’s get you home.” Mickey kissed his jaw nervously. Ian smiled and leaned down for a proper kiss. He could do that now — kiss Mickey Milkovich — they were husbands.

Ian couldn’t wait to remember every memory they’ve made together.

“Yeah, I wanna go home.”

[biancasaidstfu]

So, since we’re throwing out theories, here’s mine (similar to some others):

I think there was something between Luke and Nic from the beginning – a pull. I absolutely do not think that they acted on it while involved with other people, but the chemistry was there enough that I think Netflix/Shondaland paid attention, both to use it and to protect it. You see some early pushes (little ones, not to overshadow the leads) of Luke and Nic (especially) such as the interview where she’s asked questions by friends and Luke does one and the magazine spread for season two with the two of them (plus Claudia Jessie and Charithra). Again, these are subtle so they’re going to be showcased with others.

I think the chemistry between the actors as themselves along with the reaction of fans pushed them to season 3, ie, I think part of the reason was that Netflix/Shondaland feared something would happen between the two before their season and either it would end and everyone would be uncomfortable or it would take over as the main story in the media (I mean, look at those two together).

Things definitely get murkier with season three and they definitely get closer. I don’t think they got together before he and Jade were done done, but watching and hearing some of the behind the scenes things, it’s clear that everyone was side-eying the crap out of these two. I feel like they were all waiting for them to suddenly announce that he had broken up with Jade (which I suspect was earlier than it appeared and it was strung out a bit) and was together with Nic. It’s why they were able to use the feelings off each of them to improve their performances.

I think this is where Netflix/Shondaland really began to pay attention closely and started formulating a plan. But again, I think it was that mix of friend/flirting without crossing into dating, still trying to figure things out and decide if it was worth it to try. Lots of moving pieces if things go bad.

It’s after the initial taping has wrapped up that I think they finally took that step. And that’s the point at which I believe Netflix/Shondaland stepped in with the PR plan. I think they worked WITH Luke, Nic, and their teams, but I also believe they are the driving force behind it. We have the whole HBS, which so clearly ended up being auditions for Luke’s PR girlfriend, plus establishes him away from Nic. Nic has Big Mood and Doctor Who and her causes so she doesn’t need to be pulled away as much.

I think they’ve had to adjust this a few times. I don’t think the plan was to make it seem like Nic was in any relationship because she’s always been quiet about that. Luke, on the other hand, had not been. But then reaction to Antonia didn’t go quite the way they expected as some fans started the “Luke chose Antonia over Nic” crap even early on the WT. So, Netflix/Shondaland stepped in to give Nic an implied relationship as well. I believe (and I am sorry!) that the initial plan was for it to be Eamon, but they ended up needing someone with more time on their hands.

Enter Jake, who is already friendly with several of Nic’s friends. I think his accompanying Doug to NYC in the Spring of the WT was his “audition” – not a formal audition as with Luke, but more of a “hey, would you be interested in doing this PR? Here’s what we would need and here’s what you would get in return” kind of thing. I do think they are friends and enjoy being around each other (or this wouldn’t have worked). I waiver on whether there is an NDA here, but I don’t think there was a formal contract as I do think there is one with Antonia.

The WT showed fans and the GA just how spectacular Luke and Nic are together. They are a force. But they would become the story if they came out. Yes, even now. Look how they blew up at SAGs. I think there was some concern for awards, some concern for overshadowing, and a lot of concern that if their relationship blew up that it would affect the show. Would they be professional and not let a messy break-up affect the show? Probably, but if I’m Netflix/Shondaland, I am not taking that chance. They are my cash cow and seem to be the most eager so far to keep the show a priority (this is not a slight to any of the other former leads – most of them have been insanely busy and I would not wish JB to have changed a thing even if it ended up with less Kate/Anthony time). And clearly, Luke and Nic have been doing other projects; they’ve just been able to make it work a little better. Before anyone yells about Simone/Phoebe willing/able to do more, remember it’s a romance show at it’s core and both sides of the couple need to be able/willing to do this. It gets odd after a while (season two with no Simon for example).

So, we have the show, the awards, and the actors themselves all as factors as to why to keep their relationship under wraps. (and possibly that other thing that we don’t talk about) Netflix/Shondaland have the resources to shuffle folks here, there, and everywhere (what’s a few thousand dollars in airfare/hotels compared to them?) and Nic/Luke get to keep their privacy and (in Nic’s case) help some friends out with contacts and publicity.

I think at times any of the four get fed up and that’s when we start getting the weird “games”, but then, Netflix/Shondaland gets them back under control. Or sometimes, they start a narrative and have to pull it back so it looks as if they’re playing games. I think October was setting up for the Luke “break-up”, but the whole NYC thing happened and everything went to hell. So, Luke and Antonia went completely silent versus a “break-up”. I think January was setting up for the Nic “break-up” but then there were more award nominations so that fell silent.

I don’t think any of these were going to be formal break-ups, just seeing less of the PR folks because no need to formally break-up if you haven’t formally been together.

Then SAGs hit. Oh, SAGs. There was no controlling these two and there will be no controlling these two so back to the PR it is. Throw in the lackluster reaction to everything leaked so far for season 4 (except Polin’s baby name) and Netflix/Shondaland is going to get gun shy again. Back to PR.

If things calm down, I think we may finally get the non-break-up break-ups this year. Nothing shown can’t be explained by friendship (even the awkward Luke/Antonia kiss). I think Netflix/Shondaland will continue to ask them to keep things private and will work with them for this to happen because again, potential messy break-up, lackluster season four response, overshadowing the show and they will continue to do the PR/hidden relationship because it gives them privacy and allows them to grow separately as actors.

I’m sure that I’ve missed parts or screwed things up, but this is my general idea of this whole situation. So, unless there is a slip-up, I’ve gotta go with the 2026 anon. I think they may be allowed to go back to at least being around each other if they need to drum up season 4 excitement, but not shown as together (this is gonna take a dance because, well, Luke). If it does end up drumming up excitement, then we may get them announcing their relationship after the Netflix 90 days viewing numbers is over or Netflix/Shondaland may get shy again. We shall see.

Gary, if I'm on the right track at all, post me some white flowers this weekend. :D

All of this making me realize we really might be waiting another calendar year

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [14]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: making out, slight fighting

wc: 4100

Chapter 14: Chill, Man. I’m…Taking a Shit

December had passed in a blur—busy, hectic, but surprisingly fun. Matt had been constantly tied up with shoots, which meant I was usually busy too. Our schedules were chaotic, but somehow it worked.

Right now, though, I wasn’t holding a camera or helping Matt pick wardrobe. I was sitting across from a woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes and silver and brown-streaked hair—Dr Martinez, my new therapist.

After weeks of Matt gently urging (and by gently, I mean consistently bringing it up every other day), I finally caved and let him schedule a few sessions. I didn’t think I’d actually go through with it, but here I was—an hour in and still talking.

“I feel like I’ve gotten to know you pretty well in just one session, Daphne,” Dr. Martinez said with a warm smile, glancing at the clock as we neared the end. 

I gave a soft shrug. “I had a lot to say.”  

She nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve mentioned a lot today…your past, your parents, the trauma, your fears. But I noticed something interesting.”

My brows lifted slightly. “What?”

“Any time you talked about Matt, your tone changed. There was this… calmness. A softness.”

I felt my face warm and looked down at my hands.

“He seems important to you,” she continued gently. “Do you feel safe with him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do.”

She leaned back in her chair. “That’s good. Safety is the foundation for healing. And having someone you trust—that can make a world of difference.”

I looked out the window for a second, thinking.

“He helped me a lot,” I said softly, eyes still on the folded tissue in my lap. “He’s the one who suggested I come here.”

Dr. Martinez offered a knowing smile, her tone gentle but steady. “I know. He actually reached out personally and asked if I’d consider taking you on.”

My eyes lifted slightly in surprise, even though I already knew that information. 

“He was a client of mine years ago,” she continued. “Much younger than. Different kind of weight on his shoulders, but I remember how guarded he was in the beginning. Very few people let me in the way he eventually did.”

That stirred something in my chest—some kind of quiet understanding. Matt had always seemed like someone who carried things quietly. To be honest, when he told me he used to have anxiety, I was shocked; I didn’t even know. 

“He wanted to make sure you’d be with someone he trusted,” she added.

My throat tightened a little, but I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I can see why he trusted you,” I murmured.

Dr. Martinez smiled again and checked the clock. “We’re just about out of time for today, but I’d like to see you again next week, same time if that works.”

I stood slowly, grabbing my coat. “Yeah. That works.”

As I reached the door, her voice followed me, warm, reassuring. “You’re doing well, Daphne. Coming here, opening up… It’s not easy. But it’s brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I stepped outside into the cold December air, zipping up my jacket and tucking my hands into my sleeves. The city felt louder after the stillness of Dr. Martinez’s office. 

I reached the sidewalk and paused.

Matt’s car was parked right across the street, just like he said it would be. He was leaning against the hood, arms crossed, wearing his usual hoodie and dark coat. His eyes found mine instantly, and even from a distance, I could see the question in them—You okay?

I crossed the street slowly, feeling the wind brush against my cheeks. He straightened up as I approached, opening the passenger door for me.

“How’d it go?” he asked, voice quiet, careful as he pecked my lips. 

I hesitated, then nodded. “It was… good.”

He gave a small smile, not pushing further. “Good”

I smiled faintly and slid into the seat. Once he got in and started the car, the warmth from the vents hit instantly, and I relaxed into it. We drove in silence for a few blocks, the city slowly moving past our windows. But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

​​I glanced over at Matt as we waited at a red light, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. His hand was still in mine, thumb gently brushing over my knuckles like it was second nature now.

“What are your Christmas plans?” I asked softly.

It was Christmad Eve today, and the holidays were fully in swing.

He exhaled through his nose, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. “I’m required to be at Chris’s house this year.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Required?”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah. Apparently, his arranged fiancée’s family wants us all to celebrate together.”

I tilted my head. “That’s kind of cute though…”

Matt glanced at me with a skeptical look. “Cute?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I mean… it sounds like they’re trying. That’s sweet, right?”

He shrugged, one hand lifting off the wheel to rub the back of his neck. “I think they’re warming up to each other. Caught him being all soft with her the other morning—called her ‘Ma’.”

I blinked. “He called her Ma?”

Matt nodded with a small smirk. “Yeah. Like it just slipped out. He tried to brush it off like it was nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at my lips. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I know,” Matt said, chuckling. “That’s why it was so weird. He caught me watching and was like, ‘what?’ all defensive. I didn’t even say anything. Man was flustered.” 

I laughed, picturing Chris—cold, serious Chris—accidentally letting a soft moment slip. “Sounds like he’s catching feelings.”

Matt gave a thoughtful nod. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just trying to convince himself it’s real. Either way, I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”

I smiled at the thought of Chris being soft with someone, but the warmth faded quickly as my mind started to spiral again. Before I could dwell too long, I spoke up.

“Anyway… Noah’s back tonight.”

Matt nodded without looking over. “Yeah, I know. He texted me earlier.”

I turned my head toward him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You should stay until he gets home. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

He glanced at me briefly, his tone gentle. “I can... if you want me to.”

“I do,” I said softly.

There was a beat of silence before he added, casually—too casually, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of it, “I feel like we should tell him tonight.”

I blinked. “Tell him what?”

“That we’re together,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

My stomach flipped. “No!” I nearly shrieked, whipping my head toward him.

Matt jerked slightly, one hand still steady on the wheel as his brows shot up in alarm. “Whoa,” he said, stealing a glance at me. “I was just suggesting.”

I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead. “Sorry—it’s just… now is not the time.”

Matt’s lips pressed together, a bit of irritation flickering behind his eyes. “Okay, but when is the time?” he asked as we pulled up to a red light. “Because from where I’m sitting, there’s never going to be a good one. He’s your brother. He’s always gonna freak out.”

I didn’t answer right away. My hands fidgeted in my lap as I stared out the windshield. The light hadn’t changed, but my thoughts were racing.

“I don’t know…” I said finally, my voice small.

Matt exhaled hard through his nose, leaning his elbow against the window and dragging a hand down his jaw. “Sweetheart,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “you know I’m not trying to cause problems. But hiding us like this... it doesn’t feel right. It feels worse.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, heart picking up. “Matt, you know Noah. You know how he sees you…”

His head turned slightly. His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

I instantly regretted saying anything. “I… it’s nothing. Forget I said that.”

“No.” His voice was firmer now. “Don’t do that. What did you mean? What does he think of me?”

I hesitated, fiddling with the sleeve of my coat. “Matt…”

“Tell me, Daphne,” he said again, this time quieter but more tense. “What does he think of me?”

My shoulders slumped a bit. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to hurt him either. “He’s your best friend, Matt. He knows you really well… how you were with girls before. He’s just... protective of me.”

Matt turned fully now, eyes narrowing slightly. “So what—you think he believes i’d be messing around? He’s messed around just as much as me ”

I didn’t answer right away.

The silence was enough.

Matt shook his head, laughing once under his breath without humor. “Unbelievable.”

“He’s not entirely wrong to worry,” I said carefully. “You had… a reputation. Before me.”

“And I’ve done everything to show you I’m not that guy anymore,” Matt said, clearly frustrated now. “Do you think I’m messing around?”

“No!” I said quickly, meeting his eyes. “No, Matt. I trust you. But Noah—he’s not just going to take our word for it. He’s going to assume things, and I’m scared he’s going to push you away, or me away. Or both.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening on the wheel. “I’ve never lied to him. I’ve never hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I know that. But it’s not about what you’ve done—it’s about how scared Noah is that someone else will break me again.”

Matt stayed quiet, the weight of my words settling over him like wet concrete. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time softer.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m not perfect, but I wouldn’t add to your pain.”

My chest ached hearing him say it. I reached out, touching his arm gently. “I know, Matt… I just need a little more time.”

He nodded slowly, eyes on the road again. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll wait. But I want this—us—to be real out loud. Not just in secret.”

I gave his arm a light squeeze, then leaned my head against the window. My heart was heavy with guilt and gratitude all at once.

I really did not mean to offend him.

“Welcome home!” I grinned, pulling Noah into a hug the second he stepped through the door.

“Hey, Daph,” he said, wrapping one arm around me in return, his voice tired but warm.

He dropped his suitcase by the front entrance with a soft thud, stretching his neck out before heading toward the living room.

That’s when he saw Matt.

“No way—my brother,” Noah said with a grin as he approached him.

Matt stood, mirroring the smile. “What’s good, man?”

They clasped hands and pulled each other into that typical half-hug—firm back slap included. It was the kind of greeting you only see between guys who’ve known each other since years of friendship compacted into one smooth motion. You could tell there was real love in it. 

“Been a minute,” Matt said, giving him a nod.

“Too long,” Noah replied, still grinning. “You’ve been holding down Boston without me?”

Matt smirked. “Barely. It’s quieter without your mouth around.”

They both laughed, easing into the familiar rhythm like no time had passed. I watched from the side, my stomach Noah leaned back on the couch, still chewing on a fry, his gaze flicking around the room like he was genuinely impressed.

“By the way, Daph,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I like what you did with the place.”

I grinned, gesturing proudly to the twinkling garlands and the tree lit up in the corner. “All thanks to me and Pinterest.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Looks cozy. Real festive.”

A moment passed as he reached for his drink, then glanced over at Matt.

“You’re still heading to Chris’s tomorrow, right?”

Matt nodded casually. “Yup. Required family bonding and all that.”

I let out a involuntary snort, and Noah raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. Instead, he looked between the two of us a little too long.

I saw Matt give me a small smile. 

“So… how’ve you guys been?” he asked, tone light, but the way he said it made my spine straighten. It wasn’t accusatory, but something about the way his eyes lingered made me tense.

Matt shifting slightly. “We’ve been good. Work’s been… busy.”

“Yeah,” I added quickly, sitting up straighter. “A lot of editing on my end lately.”

Noah blinked like he hadn’t noticed our reactions. “I was just asking,” he said with a lazy shrug. “Didn’t mean to sound like a dad checking in on your report cards.”

Matt let out a short breath, subtly relaxing. “Nah, man. Everything’s solid.”

I nodded too, trying not to look suspicious. But the glance Matt and I shared said enough—we were both nervous wrecks pretending to be calm.

“How’s school been?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere safer.

Noah let out a dramatic groan, sinking further into the couch. “Brutal,” he said. “I swear, if I have to memorize one more type of jurisdiction, my brain’s going to short-circuit.”

I laughed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” he muttered, taking another bite of his burger. “ I had to write a paper comparing subject-matter jurisdiction to personal jurisdiction—why are there so many kinds of jurisdiction?”

Matt chuckled. “Sounds like a you problem, Mr. lawyer.”

“Easy for you to say,” Noah replied, pointing a fry at him. “You’re not the one crying over case law at 3 AM.”

“Still chose it though,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just remind me to never take another winter course again. Being home is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

I shrugged playfully. “Well, thank goodness this is your last year. Soon you’ll officially be Harvey Specter, and I’ll be your Mike Ross.”

Matt let out a soft chuckle while Noah gave me a look, clearly trying not to smile.

“For the hundredth time, Daphne,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m not hiring you without a law degree.”

“Rude,” I said with mock offense. “So much for my dreams.”

He smirked. “Sorry, ethics come first.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he grabbed another fry. “Anyway… still gotta make it through finals and pass the bar. That’s when the real stress begins.”

Matt leaned back into the couch beside me. “You’ll pass. You’re one of the most disciplined people I know.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Did you just call me obedient?”

He wiggled his brows at Matt, who casually blew him a kiss across the room.

I stared at them in utter disbelief, my jaw half-dropped.

Noah burst into laughter at my expression. “You seem jealous, Daph?”

“Disgusted actually” I crossed my arms. “Why would I be jealous of two fully grown, supposedly straight men shamelessly flirting with each other?”

Matt smirked. “Because you’re not getting any of the attention, obviously.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “If I wanted attention, I wouldn’t be sitting here watching this bromantic comedy unfold.”

Noah leaned back with a smug smile. “Just admit it—you can’t handle our chemistry.”

I groaned. “I need a new brother…and boss.”

I lay sprawled on my bed, the distant sound of Matt and Noah still laughing and messing around in the living room echoing faintly through the walls. They’d been at it for nearly three hours now, and it was pushing close to midnight.

I turned onto my side, scrolling aimlessly through my phone to pass the time. My thumb paused over the photo album. A small smile tugged at my lips.

There was one of us at that old-school diner, both grinning like idiots over milkshakes. Another where we were holding hands under the table, only our intertwined fingers in focus. One he’d secretly taken of me in LA—sunlight spilling through the window, catching my messy hair and sleepy smile. There were a few random selfies, kissing each other’s cheeks, our faces squished together like goofs. 

And then, the one that made my chest warm: a shot he had taken on my phone, of me cuddled into him, half-asleep, smiling in that lazy, content way I only ever did around him. His arm was around me, protective and loose, and even though I wasn’t looking at the camera, the happiness was clear on my face.

I stared at that one for a while, thumb hovering over the screen, heart aching in the softest way.

Gosh, when did this boy start meaning so much to me?

I sighed, locking my phone and tossing it on the nightstand. The laughter outside had died down a little.

A part of me wanted to call him in here. Just to talk. Just to have him near again. Instead, I tossed the blanket off and padded toward the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush from the cup by the sink. The cold tile met my bare feet as I began brushing my teeth, half-lost in thought, still a little warm from the memories sitting in my phone.

Just as I leaned down to rinse, the door creaked open.

I turned, toothbrush still in hand, and found Matt slipping inside, shutting the door behind him with that trademark smirk playing on his lips.

“Seriously?” I whispered through a mouthful of toothpaste. “What if Noah catches you in here?”

Matt just shrugged, unbothered, and reached behind him to quietly click the lock shut. “Guess we’ll just have to be real quiet then,” he murmured with a grin, stepping closer.

I rolled my eyes, rinsing quickly. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned against the counter, watching me with that boyish smile that made my stomach flutter. “You missed me. Don’t lie.”

I gave him a look through the mirror, dabbing my face with a towel. “I saw you like, two hours ago.”

“That’s a long time,” he teased, slipping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

I finished rinsing my mouth and used a towel to wipe. 

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, though I didn’t pull away. I felt his warmth through the fabric of my shirt, his breath brushing against my skin.

He turned his head, pressing a soft kiss just under my ear. “I missed you,” he said again, but softer this time. Sincere.

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “Same to be honest.”

Matt chuckled, turning me gently around to face him. “I think I’m starting to understand just how lucky I am,” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

I looked up at him, heart thudding, our bodies close in the cramped bathroom space. His fingers traced slow, delicate circles along my waist.

“Matt…” I warned, half teasing, half breathless.

“Yeah?” he murmured, leaning in just enough that our noses brushed.

“I swear if Noah comes knocking—”

“I’ll hide in the shower,” he whispered, grinning against my lips.

I giggled, finally leaning in the rest of the way to kiss him—slow, warm, and full of something I wasn’t entirely ready to name yet. But whatever it was…it felt like home.

Matt’s lips moved against mine with growing urgency, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt to rest on my hips. I melted into him, arms wrapped around his neck, my back pressing lightly into the counter. The bathroom was dimly lit, our breathing the only sound between soft kisses.

“Sweetheart…” Matt murmured between kisses, voice low and husky. His lips brushed down my jaw, then back to my mouth, deeper this time—slow and intoxicating. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his hoodie, and I couldn’t help the quiet noise that slipped from my throat.

Then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Matt?” Noah’s voice came from just outside the door. “What are you doing, man? You said you were just using the bathroom—did you fall in or something?”

I practically jumped, smacking Matt’s chest in panic as I pulled away, breathless. “Oh my god,” I whispered sharply, wide-eyed.

Matt blinked, lips red and chest rising. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, already moving toward the door.

I grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t open it yet—he’ll see me,” I hissed.

Matt grinned, clearly still high on the moment, but nodded. “Seems like youre the one who needs to hide in the shower”

“Matt?” Noah called again, louder now. “You good?”

“Yeah!” Matt shouted back, forcing a casual tone. “Chill, man. I’m… taking a shit.”

I looked at him, incredulous. Taking a shit? Really? 

Noah scoffed through the door. “Of course you are? That burger digested quick.”

Matt turned to me with a shrug and mouthed, he’s suspicious.

I mouthed back, because you’re being sketchy!

“Matt!” Noah called out again, this time closer. “Have you seen my sister?”

Matt’s grip on my waist tightened. His body was still between me and the door, and I watched the flicker of panic in his eyes before he called back—

“No!” he shouted. “I haven’t seen her!”

I smacked his chest silently, mouthing seriously?

Matt cleared his throat and added, “Maybe she went for a walk or something. She was talking about it earlier.”

I stared at him with wide eyes like he’d just handed us both a death sentence.

“A walk?” Noah’s voice was now right outside the bathroom door. “Why the hell would she go for a walk at midnight, Matt? That doesn’t sound like her.”

Shit.

Matt winced, trying to come up with something else. I heard Noah curse under his breath. “I’m calling her.”

My blood ran cold.

I frantically dug into the pocket of my pajama shorts, yanking out my phone and silencing it just as the screen lit up with Noah Incoming Call.

I held it up to Matt, wide-eyed, breathing through my nose like I was in a spy movie.

Matt bit down a laugh, barely holding it in, whispering, “You’re literally gonna get us killed.”

The phone buzzed silently in my hand, over and over. I watched Noah’s shadow shift under the door.

“Why isn’t she picking up?” he muttered to himself, his voice low but too close. I could hear the frown in his tone. “Matt?”

Matt turned toward the door. “Yo, man. I’m—still in the bathroom. Can we not have a conversation while I’m in here? Kind of in the middle of something.”

I smacked his chest again, mouthing you’re so dead.

Noah sighed, frustrated. “I’m gonna go check outside.”

Matt turned to me as we both exhaled like we’d just been defusing a bomb.

We heard Noah’s footsteps move away from the door, and Matt pressed his forehead to mine, still trying not to laugh. “Sweetheart, I swear… we’re this close to getting murdered.”

I whispered back, “We need to never do this again.”

He grinned, brushing his lips over mine again. “Until next time?”

I gave him a narrow-eyed look but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my lips. “You’re insane.”

Then he slowly opened the bathroom door—checking that the coast was clear—before slipping out, and I followed a second later, heartbeat thundering in my chest. 

I slipped quietly back into my room, heart still racing as I closed the door behind me. A second later, I heard Matt’s footsteps pad softly toward the living room.

He peeked out to make sure Noah was really gone, and when he was sure the coast was clear, he came back to my room, pushing the door open just enough to step in.

“Looks like he actually went outside to look for you,” he said under his breath, then leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. His lips were warm and fimilar. 

“I’m gonna head out now,” he said quietly. “Before he comes back and catches me crawling out of your room like a criminal.”

I nodded, trying not to smile as he pulled the door closed behind him again, but he paused.

“I’ll text him and say you came back while he was gone.”

I nodded again, a soft warmth settling over me. “Okay. Drive safe.” 

Matt leaned in one more time, placing a chase kiss on my lips, his voice low and tender. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, and with one last glance, he slipped away, leaving the faintest smell of his cologne behind—just enough to make me miss him already.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: I need to get the climx to get going, I'm aiming for like 21-15 chapters? like and reblog! mwah] –ceyana

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[thethronezone]

Do you think Isekai Primarch will recreate something like Instagram or Twitter that run in her legion just for fun?

She says it's for rapidly sharing intel between her troops. That doesn't explain why there are so many selfies of her legion posing with guns, tanks and dead enemies. Or why there's a like-button or why most of the comments say GET WRECKD and LMAO.

Oh, IP likes them. They are her gang after all! Her boys! She's admittedly a bit weirded out by technically being their mom and get's a weird look on her face whenever one of them calls her mother. Laughs if they call her mom though.

All I can think of is this image

Big E: Come here, Alexandria.

IP: Bitch, who???

IP animating Bad Apple using the Golden Throne's terminal or some shit.

She feels herself slipping. The first time she killed someone, she expected to feel... something. Anything. All she felt at the time was just this profound indifference. Like the had just stepped on an ant. And that terrifies her because how much of this is because of the Emperor's changes and how much of this is solely her? Did she always have this side of her, did she always have the capability to kill? She's not sure which answer scares her more.

Know exactly which post you're talking about. And I think it's hilarious. It also makes the fact that the Primarchs in the beginning kept running into her but didn't know that she was their sister (they thought the last Primarch was another brother). Like, Lorgar runs into someone who could be his identical twin and goes "Huh, fate works in mysterious ways." Fucking morons, I love them so much.

... Roboute. He likes that IP, despite her jovial nature, still takes things seriously and doesn't get super duper offended at the drop of a hat. And the fact they can tune out the blabbering of irritating nobles and officials? Major respect.

[airas-story]

I'm not really a "omg this is his/her/their song!" type of person, which is why I was completely thrown by surprise when I heard this song (live, too!) and suddenly thought, "Well, shit, that is Stephen and Tony." It wasn't the first time I heard the song at all, it just happened to be the live concert that brought the thought.

Hopefully the link goes through to the lyric video: https://youtu.be/ydWYlx8wexg?si=KvWdvUvpbmSxHGUb

If it does not, look up Last of the Real Ones from Fall Out Boy.

It's specifically the verses and bridge (and yeah, the therapist line lmao) that call out to me. Verse 1 sounds like Stephen to Tony, verse 2 opposite, and the bridge either/both. But that's just my thought. I'd love some sort of prose based on the whole vibe of this song. Any section, any genre, literal or figurative, it's really about the *vibes*. And I figure that might be an interesting prompt for you that also allows a lot of creative freedom. Hope you have fun!

Okay, so I really do love this song. And I swear, after you sent it in, it kept popping up. My playlist, on streaming, with my sister. You name it, it showed up. The problem... I had so many ideas, some of which were very much off the wall. Deciding was a problem. The one I ended up with wasn't quite where I expected to go with it, though. Still, I hope you enjoy.

“You know, I one time told the Avengers that the reason we fought was so one day we didn’t have to fight, so that one day we could go home.”

Stephen looked over at Tony where they sat side by side on a glass hovercraft, alongside the ocean and looking out into the city. The street lights shone down a faint red, leaving the night sky so much more visible than Stephen remembered it being when he’d first moved to New York what felt like several lifetimes ago. 

“Been a long time since either of us have had to fight,” Stephen said. And it was true. Between science and magic they’d strengthened the dimensional and atmospheric barriers keeping out those that would hurt them; with diplomacy and outreach they’d strengthened relations, both with other dimensions and alien planets; with a mix of all four the world itself had started to know something close to a Utopia. Stephen didn’t dare call anything Utopia, because everything could get better.

“Funny then, isn’t it, that we fought the fight so we could go home and…”

Stephen understood. What home did they have to go to? They were the last of the world of superheroes, a dying breed of a bygone age. The world didn’t need them anymore, not in that capacity. And it was a reason for sheer joy. 

But where did a pair of immortals go, when their duty was done?

“You know,” Stephen said. “That last alien ambassador claimed they could use a few scientists to spread our findings on resource replenishment.”

“There’s already a team in place,” Tony mused. “But I’m sure there’s room for two more. And then that one dimension—what is it, the Glish dimension?—has been hosting decade-long seminars to share knowledge. Their magic is different from yours, you can never know too much.”

“There’s more than just a whole new world,” Stephen said. “We’ve got an infinity of them.”

They’d saved their world, helped and aided, and then stepped back as the world had risen up to help itself. They weren’t meant to be saviors anymore. Stephen wasn’t sure what they were meant to be and that was fine. 

Everything ended, even, perhaps, infinity. Stephen didn’t know if that was how long he and Tony had, neither of them did, but this era of their lives had ended. Time to begin a new one.

[boobxrry0]

Here’s a list of HCs for Amphoreus college AU. Warning there’s a lot below the cut

Phainon

- Who is his roommate you ask? None other than Mydeimos. Who else??

- He used to use a skateboard all the time in Highschool, but he doesn’t use it that much anymore so it just kinda. Stays in the corner of his dorm (yes this is a sk8 reference. Sue me)

- He came out as bisexual about a month after first year started. who was surprised? …No one.

- Doing bullshit nonsense competitions at 2 am with Mydei, and they get noise complaints all the time.

- He leaves his hair on the shower wall. Mydei yells at him for it.

- Been trying to learn piano since 5ever. They own a keyboard that is currently collecting dust in the living room.

- When Mydei leaves to take care of his library, Phainon tries to bake something. It usually ends up being terrible. I mean it. Black crisp over the top of that thing type shit.

- Forgets to wash rice.

- Whenever he actually sits down and tries to study, he gets distracted on his laptop. It got so bad Aglaea had to literally yank it away from him and now he’s not allowed to have a laptop. Even at the dorms

- ^ Ever since then he’s been actually doing better in his classes

Mydei

- Cooks basically every night for Phainon, but if he’s being a little bitch he’ll order him shitty food and then makes something for himself.

- ^ This got so bad he just started cooking for him again. Because nobody in college has the time or money for that

- He plays electric guitar! If they go anywhere and there’s a guitar of any kind, he’ll just sit down and start playing something.

- Mydei tried skating. He was not good at it.

- He works for his mom and dad at the family owned library occasionally. It’s quick money, really. He genuinely thinks he’s gonna take over full time. If Eurypon and Gorgo don’t mind.

- Phainon tried convincing Mydei to get an odd tattoo. He did not speak to Phainon the rest of the day.

Tribbios

- A professor!

- Literally the best history professor you could ask for. Ain’t nobody failing her class because she’s that good of a professor.

- Super fun. Breaks in her class constantly, fun stuff at the beginning of class. Etc.

- Genuinely cares for others

- Surprisingly old??? She taught Prof. Aglaea when she was in college. Which wasn’t that long ago but still!

- She loved teaching. And her subject.

- Sometimes goes into other classes and everybody cheers. Typically she goes into Aglaea’s class.

- Sometimes her younger sisters will come visit the class. Everyone is surprised by how young they are, considering Tribios’ age.

Tribbie/Trinnon/Trianne (whatt!)

- They’re not in college! Um…

- Tribbio’s younger sisters

- Triplets

- Chaos Co.

- All of them are super observant. Sometimes they go up to people in class and point blank “You look like you’re struggling with your love life. Remember communication is key!” (They get a lot of their advice was watching/listening to Tribbios)

- Trinnon in specific has really good intuition. When someone is about to walk onto the road, she’s grab the nearest piece of cloth/their hand and say “wait” and the next second a car going a kjadraillon miles per hour will rush by. People have cried and hugged this girl for saving their life.

- Tribbie has a keen eye for lies and truth. Tribbios has never been able to lie around her. No one has. She will just huff and say “don’t deceive me.” (Tribios said that one time. ONE TIME to a person and now Tribbie uses it all the time.)

- Trianne will literally encourage people to take the first step. And then she will remember everything and makes sure she sees it to the end. She doesn’t know why. She likes watching over people, and then if they ask to help she will gladly do so!

- They all collectively write/draw on walls.

Castorice

- Good grades in everything. Everything.

- She and Polyxia are inseparable. You will never see them apart.

- If Polyxia is sick she will stay home until she feels better. Take care of her.

- Physical touch.

- “it may be my last year but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try hard.”

Polyxia (?!?!???!)

- Everyone sees her and immediately thinks she’s just a ghost.

- She is the one who cooks. Castorice helps occasionally.

Aglaea

- Yes, she teaches fashion design. And yes, she also teaches debate. So what?

- chill when it comes to debate. Fashion design? Absolute critic. Gordon Ramsey of fashion design.

-Literally the newest professor. Used to be a student not too long ago. But she’s already highly respected as a teacher.

-There’s some rumors going around about her relationship with Prof Anaxa….

- She addressed said rumors. Turns out they’re exes!

Anaxagoras

- We already know he’s a Professor.

- Math (Calculus) and Science (theoretical physics & Astronomy)

- There’s already so much about him and his teaching style and it’s all canon here.

- Yes this includes the gun

- ^ Insert the video of the Choir teacher with the nerf gun except its kids answering questions.

- “THEY GOT GINA!” Vine

- Extra thing, people keep commenting about his eyepatch. He has never addressed it. And he never will (it was something stupid)

Cipher

- Absolute troublemaker.

- Falls asleep in class even if she was right on time.

- Struggles with money.

- Kleptomaniac

Hyacine

- Volunteers for everything. Everything.

- Training to be a doctor

- Tries to help the teachers as much as possible.

- She sometimes brings little Ica to the campus. A lot of people gather around.

Probably going to add a bunch of stuff later when we get more info on Hysilens/Cerydra!

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Van having an accident or using her padding while regressed super young and Mel tries to help her out like how cg Van always helps Mel.

Little!Van - Gentle words

I wasn’t sure if you wanted little or cg Mel, so I did cg Mel. Also I got intensely sidetracked by Van’s rsd for some reason. So, sorry. Also i somehow made this so ooc for both of them and I kinda hate it, I’m sorry.

Notes -> little!mel, cg!van, safe and sound agere au, pull-ups, accidents, rejection sensitive dysphoria

Word count: 1052

“Nat hates me,”

The sniffled whine had Mel lifting her cap from where it had been resting over her eyes so she could peer through the blaring rays of the setting sun to spy where the voice was coming from. She cringed internally when she saw a tear faced Van approaching, knowing whatever had triggered the upset would be harder to soothe since Tai would be out until after dinner.

Van was somewhat awkwardly stomping her way up the yard, frazzled red hair blending in with the sun behind her. As she got closer, mere steps away from where Mel was sitting on a deck chair ‘supervising’, a damp stain on the inside of Van’s cargo shorts became clear. “Why do you think Nat hates you, buddy?” Mel asked carefully.

Van sniffled, wiping a hand ungracefully across her face to rid the skin of snot and tears. “She said,” she huffed, taking in a deep breath like Tai always told her, shoulders sagging as she exhaled. “She said I had to never play with them ever again because I’m a dumb baby.” Mel tilted her head to the side at this, not understanding how the usually very mild mannered Nat would ever say that, and to Van of all people.

Mel frowned, standing up and moving to comfort Van. The redhead sunk into her arms, sniffling as Mel rubbed her palm in firm circles across her back. She held back from mentioning the accident just yet, worried she’d only upset Van more, “Did she say it just like that?” Van nodded urgently, pulling away from Mel and shooting her a horrified look at the thought Mel didn’t unwaveringly believe her.

“Yeah,” she whined indignantly.

“Ok, ok,” Mel cooed softly - noticing how Van was tugging at the inside of her shorts which were no doubt uncomfortable against her thighs. “Why don’t we go inside and get you cleaned up then we can figure out what happened.” Van’s gaze dropped, heat flooding to her cheeks before she nodded roughly. Mel offered out a hand and Van took it gratefully. They headed straight to the bathroom, missing everyone inside from seeing them in a way Mel was quite practiced at.

Van was still a little teary, and squirming uncomfortably now the dampness had no doubt started to itch. “Bath or shower?” Mel offered, helping Van out of her shorts. Van thought for a moment.

“Bath? Will you play with me?” Mel glanced at her watch, seeing how close it was to dinner time which meant pretty soon she would have to start helping Lottie get everyone inside. Still - Van’s puppy dog eyes and the splotchy red patches on her cheeks from where she’d been crying won out.

“Ok, only for ten minutes though, then we have to go get the others in for dinner.” Van pouted at this, crossing her arms.

“They’re all meanies anyway.”

Mel sighed, beginning to run the bath. “Why do you say that bear?”

“Becuase they said I’m a dumb baby who couldn’t play with them.”

“Nat?”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound like something Nat would say,” Mel tried to be as gentle as she could - needing to keep Van comfortable while she got cleaned up.

Van shrugged, stepping into the bath water. “Well maybe she didn’t say exactly that,” she huffed, swirling her hand back and forth through the water. “But that’s what she meant.”

“So what did she say?” Van’s face heated up once again as she looked down at the bath bubbles, hair dropping to curtain her face.

“Not sure,” she mumbled. “That I had to go see you.”

Mel nodded, handing Van her dinosaur washcloth. “Because you had an accident?” Van nodded, taking the washcloth and cleaning up. “So do you think Nat was trying to help you feel better and not telling you that you couldn’t play?”

Van shrugged at this. “Guess so.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t feel like that kiddo.”

They got Van cleaned up and as promised Mel indulged Van’s splashing and stories with the bath toys for ten minutes before convincing her to get out.

Once they were in Van’s room, the little seemed a little quieter, the excitement of bath time having worn off. “You doing alright there kid?” Mel asked, turning from the wall to check on Van who’d been changing into her pull-up and pajamas for longer than strictly necessary.

Van nodded, quickly swiping away a stray tear from her cheek and dropping down to sit on the edge of her bed. “Mel?”

“Yeah bear?”

“Do you think I’m a dumb baby?” Mel sighed, sitting beside Van on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t think that at all.”

Van slumped against Mel’s side, fiddling with the hem of her teenage mutant ninja turtles pajama shirt. “You think you’re a dumb baby when you have accidents.” Mel stiffened, stumped for a moment.

“I…” she sighed. “Well I don’t mean it, I just get upset sometimes, yeah?” Van nodded in understanding. “Like sometimes when you get upset you say things you don’t mean too. Do you think maybe you felt like Nat was being mean to you before because you were feeling upset?”

“Oh…” Van murmured, “yeah.” Mel nodded,

“We’re you maybe just feeling a bit mean to yourself?”

Van nodded, deep in thought. “Maybe it made me feel like Natty was mean ‘cause I felt-ed mean at Van?”

“Yeah,” Mel hummed. “I think that happened.” Finally a little calmer, Van melted against Mel.

“That’s ok then. We don’t have to feel mean at ourselves,” she decided.

“That’s right,” Mel agreed. Van smiled, twisting a little to pat Mel clumsily on the shoulder.

“Thanks f’r helpin’, Uncle Mel.” This time it was Mel’s turn to blush, ducking her head down as she beamed with pride.

By the time they left the bedroom, Lottie had already wrangled everyone inside. Nat was quick to greet Van, asking eagerly if they could sit next to each other at dinner. Van hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit smaller because she was the only one already in her pajamas and she was wearing a pull-up. She reached back to hold onto Mel’s shirt. Mel gently encouraged her to sit with Nat and by the time dinner was over any previous distress was a distant memory.

[hufflezki]

Hii! I've loved everything I've read from your account so far and wanted to request something of course only if you're interested/have time ✨️🫶

This is a Sirius x reader situation.

I was thinking a reader maybe like Malfoy little sister or any other pureblood family, and she is a "rebel" just like Sirius. The reader and Regulus could be classmates or know each other because they migh have classes together, partnering for projects, childhood friends or something like that...but since she's also different/same situation as Sirius, he [Sirius] might feel attracted to her because he feels like she understands, so he asks his brother for help to get her attention, in a way reader could be a bridge between the Black brothers, like Regulus' best friend and Sirius' partner/gf?. She might end up taking Regulus with her from Black Manor.

Thank youu, sorry if this is long idk how detailed it should be a request ���� no problem if you decide not to write it 💕

[ 🦢 ᝰ.ᐟ ] thank you for requesting, loviee<33 sorry if this took a little while. I also ended up changing some things, but I hope you don't mindd!

-> sirius black x gn!reader, who doesn't share the same beliefs as her pureblood family, reader and regulus are close friends, james potter being a wingman, the black brothers live in the potter manor, word count: 1,233

“Come on, Jamie, don't tell me you’re not even a little bit curious?” Sirius whisper-yells at his bespectacled friend, as they peer at you and Regulus—in the living room—from behind a wall, not at all looking amiss. James wasn't quite sure how he ended up following Sirius’ steps. He’s been acting like this ever since he found out from Regulus, he definitely didn't beg him for information, that you had rejected another one of your parents’ proposals for an arranged marriage. And, apparently, this time you—alongside your younger sibling—finally decided to leave home with a friend's help. Hearing that alone sent Sirius into some kind of nostalgic mess. Which is why you’ve never left his mind the past few days.

Sirius knew you, you’d been one of the first few friends Regulus made at Hogwarts. The both of you share quite a few similarities, something that probably brings sense as to why you’re both so close. You both won't tolerate anything you deem nonsensical. You’re both just as stubborn. But you know how to use your wits to your own advantage. Which Sirius finds very admirable about you.

At first, he tried dismissing his feelings as just him being worried for his brother’s friend. After all, Regulus seems very fond of you out of all his friends. His little brother never misses to mention your name in a heartbeat. And Sirius, wanting to earn back his title of a good brother, began entertaining you as well when you came over. That’s until he found himself falling deeper into your labyrinth. Turns out, you shared more similarities with him. You come from a lineage of purebloods, that you despise because of the way they treat you. And you have a younger brother—who you’re trying to raise the best as you can. And that made Sirius dote on you even more. To the point his friends are beginning to notice.

“Curious? About my best friend's brother’s friend?” James scrunches his eyebrows together, repeating his words. “Geez, I think I’m gonna have a stroke.” He adds, but Sirius is too distracted to even hear him. Leaving James to stare at his hopeless looking friend. He’s never seen him this way before. Though, to be fair, you are giving his best friend a hard time just by being Regulus’ friend. Not to be taken as offensive, or anything, but he’s been acting kind of like a huge wall between you and Sirius. James finds it funny, though. Apparently, all it takes to cockblock Sirius is his own little brother.

A minute later, your two spectators see Regulus stand up, mutter something inaudible to you, before leaving. Sirius and James are forced to separate, pretending on doing their own things by the hallway. Regulus passes by them and eyes them, suspiciously, as James strangely inspects a nearby potted plant while Sirius fixes the broken head of a lamp. “You two can stop. We've already seen you.” The two friends exchange a look, before Regulus turns the hallway and heads to the kitchen.

Sirius gives James an incredulous look, before his friend gives him a slight push. “Go!” James eggs him on, grabbing him on the shoulders and turning him to the direction of the kitchen. “What? What do you want me to do?!” Sirius pushes himself back on his feet, but fails to do so when James starts pushing him forward. “Just ask Regulus to help you! You’re so obvious already!” Sirius turns around to face him, eyes wide. “I am not!” He looks at him as if James was the one being ridiculous for accusing him of acting like something that he is. Suddenly, you pop out behind them, from the living room.

“What’s all the commotion?” You startle James for a bit, but he finds his composure and convinces you with an excuse. Now, he’s dragging you back to the living room, with a promise to play chess. James, narrowing his eyes at his best friend, then mumbles. “Talk to him.” Before disappearing with you.

Sirius is then left to do one of the least things he wants to.

Talk to his brother about the way he feels.

“You like my friend?” Sirius feels like a proper dog with its tail tucked between its legs, as he feels Regulus’ scrutinizing gaze. Or is that just how he stares at people? Either way it was a little terrifying. He was trying to be vulnerable here, telling his little brother about how things started changing after you and him had that talk the last time. And suddenly the air seems rigid between him and Regulus.

Then a sigh, Sirius sees his brother grab the teapot and pour him a cup of tea. “Here, it should ease your nerves.” With his voice monotonous, he gives it to Sirius, who’s still a little bewildered. “Take it.” Regulus starts insisting, and eventually Sirius carefully grabs it from him, taking a big sip. And it did help, quite a bit actually, as his shoulders started to grow lighter.

“Green tea?”

“Yes. It's the only thing we have left.” Sirius hums, nodding his head as he takes another sip, before placing it back down on its coaster. “Anyway, I don't control how you feel. If you like them, I think it's best if you had this talk with them instead of me.” Regulus turns around, pouring himself a cup this time. Sirius follows him, pursing his lips, unsure. “Are you sure? That this is alright with you, I mean.” Familiar grey eyes stare at him once more, before Regulus speaks. “Like I said, I don't control the way you feel. Either way, I know you have good intentions. And they seem equally as interested in you” Regulus pauses. “I say, take the risk and just tell them. You deserve love too, Sirius.” With that said, Sirius feels much better than he did before.

He may not have been present for Regulus the last few years, but he’s glad that his brother’s giving him a chance to redeem himself.

“Sorry to interrupt your sibling time, but I just beat James in chess, and now he wants a rematch with an audience.” Your voice can be heard entering the kitchen, James trailing behind you like a defeated puppy. Sirius can’t help but smile. “If that's the case then,” He approaches you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, not missing the way you try to avoid his gaze. “I’m on your side.” Sirius mumbles, and he sees the corner of your lips tilt up.

“Great choice.” You finally meet his eyes, causing him to feel a little dazed. You’re even more charming up close. “As much as I want to team up with you as well. Seeing the circumstances, I guess it leaves me no choice.” You both hear Regulus pass by between the three of you, exiting the kitchen. “Wait, you’re teaming up with me?!” James trails behind him, giddy to have someone on his team.

“No, but I’ll be here to watch you lose again.” You both hear James’ loud gasp from the hallway.

“We shouldn’t let them wait much longer.” You say, Sirius trails his hand down to the small of you back, nodding in agreement. Before the both of you make your way back to the living room as well.

This day might’ve turned out much better than he anticipated.

marauders era masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

[toasttt11]

game two

April 22, 2025

Allison rubbed her face letting out a sigh as she woke up only a few minutes ago from her pre game nap.

It was game two today and Luke would not be playing meaning Allison would be playing in the playoffs without Jack and Luke now.

Allison swears if she gets this injury curse her three brothers seem to have this season she is gonna smack all of them.

Allison knew Luke needed surgery and would be getting surgery the second the playoffs were over for the Devils.

“You should be getting up.” Luke tossed a pillow at her gently with his good arm.

Allison caught the pillow before it could hit her as she opened her eyes sitting up, “And you shouldn’t be throwing that.” Allison gave him a look making Luke groan.

Allison got up grabbing her suit in her suit bag as she headed into the bathroom and got ready for the game.

“Ooo a new suit.” Jack’s voice came through Luke’s phone as Allison walked back in to the room and Luke had the phone angled at the bathroom door.

Allison spun around a bit, she had black trousers, black shirt with a white blazer that had black pockets, buttons and collar and white loafers.

Allison sat down on the bed next to Luke seeing Jack and Quinn’s faces on Luke’s phone, “Brothers.” Allison teased.

Jack was sitting on the couch in New Jersey and Quinn seemed to have just woke up and was drinking a coffee in hotel as he was spending a few days with some teammates a bit away from Vancouver before he heads to New Jersey.

“Goooooseeee!” Jack grinned goofily at his baby sister.

Allison talked with her brothers for as long as she could before Nico was literally knocking on the hotel door because they needed to go.

“You’re gonna be great.” Luke gave her a firm reassuring nod as he stood at the door.

Allison gave her a brother a smile and a nod back.

“And get me a goal?” Luke teased making Allison fondly roll her eyes as her brothers are always asking for points from her when they are injured.

Nico handed her an iced coffee as he clicked the button for the elevator.

“And this is why you’re my favorite.” Allison breathed out happily as she shook her first sip of the coffee.

Nico breathed out amused as they stepped into the elevator, “Me or the coffee?” Nico teased her.

Allison gave him a playful wide eyed look, “You don’t want the answer.” Allison said in mock seriousness making Nico chuckle as the elevator brought them down to the lobby.

“Don’t worry i know your answer.” Nico hummed knowingly, “I’m obviously the favorite.” Nico joked with her as they stepped off the elevator.

“Oh of course.” Allison nodded with a teasing look making Nico just smile more and let Allison climb onto the bus first and he followed her on the bus.

Allison was stolen by Seamus and Simon, she definitely has liked when this two have been called up thought it the year.

One Simon and Seamus are close to her age and two Seamus was also a rookie and Simon was just a rookie making them understood each other.

Allison got the yap session from Simon and Seamus the entire time the bus driver drove them to the Hurricane arena for game two of the playoff series.

She sighed a tiny bit in relief to get some alone time as they arrived at the locker room. She liked all of her team but sometimes it is a lot as some much of the team loves to yap. Which is why she loves wearing her headphones and stretching before games to get some alone time.

Allison started her pregame routine as always getting her lemon protein smoother and beginning her warm ups.

She chomped on her mouth guard skating a bit on the ice waiting for the game to start. Allison knew her chewing on her mouth guard was a horrible habit especially with how much she chews on it but it was routine she found very hard to break.

Allison was on a line with Timo and Nico again and skated to her spot on the ice as she waited for the game to start.

Allison was only out on her second shift of the game and it was a penalty kill with Jesper. Jesper who got a breakaway before of Allison and Jesper who took the shot and the shot got blocked and Allison quickly skated over grabbing the rebound and hitting the puck into the net.

Allison whooped smiling widely as she spun around before getting tackled into a hug after her first ever playoff goal, she got her first ever playoff goal of course it ended up being a short handed goal too.

Allison just became the youngest NHL player to ever score a shorthanded goal in the playoffs. She was even younger than Wayne Gretzky.

She also just got the first shorthanded goal out of all the playoffs series so far and the first in the Devils vs Canes series. 
Allison skated back for to bench getting immediately pulled into a hug by Nico before she even had a chance to get onto the bench.

“Good job Goose.” Nico patted her back before pulling back from the hug and cupping her face shaking her head softly as he smiled at her proudly.

Nico made it feel like she had a small piece of her brothers on the ice when she got her first playoff goal.

Allison had the only goal of the first period.

Allison was easily playing the most on the ice as the game continued, she would most likely end up with the most time on ice by the end of the night.

She was playing most of every single power player and the entirety of all the penalty kills, she was taking even longer shifts than normal.

Allison had just sat down on the bench after she was out on a shift for almost all four minutes on a penalty kill. Right as she sat down she looked up seeing a break away and had to watch the Canes get a breakaway and get their first shorthanded goal too and the second goal for the Hurricanes for this game so far.

Devils lost game two 1-2.

Allison has the most on ice time out of either teams and was just ready to her back to New Jersey and get in her own bed.

[iwanttohavesexwithsupermario]

So I'm walking right I'm taking a nice stroll out for an evening I'm walking along the ridge of cliff that faces out over the beach and I feel the salty sea air blowing into my face I can smell it I can I can taste it I can see the way the wind blows the grass in such a way that you'd think was simple but it cannot be recreated by human hand and so I'm walking along this ridge the jagged rocks the course and the millions of shells dotting along the coast and I'm on this ridge and I look down at the ocean and it's just black there's no gloss of the sunlight on the water there's no role of the waves there's no flush of the tide I look down and it's dark It's a sickly pitch black incomparable really to anything else even somewhat similar It's a deep rooting darkness that doesn't come naturally I'm transfixed by the water which ones was I spend What could be minutes but could be weeks staring down at that abyss and when I look back up I see no cliffs I see no shore I don't know where I am I don't know how I got here when I got here how long I've been here but I am not on that beach anymore I am somewhere else entirely where I am I could not say I could not tell you I'm sure other people have been there but in the moment in this single solitary moment which seems to stretch on for eons it's me alone I'm desperately scouring what I think used to be that shoreline pleading begging for some semblance of the shells the waves the fine grains of sand the salty smell all which I had taken for granted but in this moment I find nothing I am met with no resolution I am where the beach once was I am where the waves one's crashed yet there is silence I'm screaming begging now begging for someone some semblance of a ray of hope as I've become trapped in this inky darkness that is oh so unfamiliar I scream and scream and scream and scream some more until my voice is raw until my cries are no more than a whimper than a croak than a desperate gasp at the salty sea air that no longer surrounds me I sit and stare at nothing in particular I begin to yearn for that feeling that is so despised sand in your clothes salt in your hair water up your nose burnt skin dead and rotting fish I think of these vices yet I long for the world where They had not been taken from me ripped from my grass without so much as a warning in that moment I sit in that inky blackness and I begin to ponder truly why am I sat here if there's no beach no grass blowing in the wind No shells to cut your feet And with my broken voice I scream out one more time but all that comes out Is that sickly pitch black I open my eyes It's been years I see the ocean I see the shells I see the sand the grass the wind the water I see it just out of my reach because I know if I were to take a step towards it that darkness would envelop me again I can't go back to that beach so I do naught But stand upon the ridge I take a step I feel one last time the salty air I feel the impact of the sand in my clothes the salt in my hair the shells cutting into my skin I know I am in this moment the rotting fish and as I feel that air for one final time I think I don't know what I prefer You or the darkness Would there have been darkness in your absence would there have been a beach these questions go unanswered and yet again all goes black What a fool I was to think such naive hope could save the wicked and then super Mario shows up and makes love to me all night And he tells me I have loved him enough for a ticket into heaven I begin to sob because I know I'm going to hell

[nicki0kaye]

So; while Sasha and Reysha go to Mando summer camp, Kallus is in fact trying to figure out how to make it up to Zeb for being such a racist fuck face.

He decides the best thing to do is learn as much about Lasat culture as possible, and thankfully a lot of Lasat literature was saved, thanks to being digitized by their University and then transferred to other servers off planet.

This is how he finds out about Rival poetry and

and

that Zeb almost did his Honor Guard Thesis on Rival poetry, and personally translated several epics into Basic.

reading these poems, Kallus falls in love with him all over again. The Rival genre on Lasan is not just an antagonistic relationship, it's something much more intimate and, most importantly, life changing. Ones rival is supposed to inspire the full range of passions, from envy to lust to romance to grief. Once you meet them, they irrevocably change you, and are changed by you. This is one of @sidhebeingbrand's best Zeb headcanons and I looooove whenever I get to write Kallus discovering this core piece of his identity he can barely put words to has been explored in thousands of poems from Zeb's culture and is Zeb's special fucking interest.

This specific Kallus cannot remember the face of the person who saved him on that ice moon, cannot remember the sound of their voice or the words they shared, but in that memory, the only thing truly spared, is that sense of life changing safety. Of the beginning of his sense of gravity shifting under him and his relationship with this person evolving beyond his understanding or control.

Now he would have kept all this shit to himself, had Walon Vau not clocked a guilty mf cut from the same bitchy cloth and asked the kids to meet Kallus properly. They form a haughty friendship built on being two up tight mfs in love with heroic men, and then, Walon finds out about the rival poetry and their friendship REALLY kicks off bc finally Kallus has someone to info dump to about the HELL he's been living in. Walon understands and agrees he was an idiot and is happy to conspire with him about making it up to this rival of his.

so when the kids finally get done at summer camp and Sasha is grounded enough that going back to the Rebellion doesn't sound like code for 'going back where Sasha isn't wanted', Kallus leaves having made a friend who is Very Invested in seeing Kallus make right with his crush.

Reysha sends a message to let everyone know their ETA, but Kallus sends a private one to Zeb where he drops like four references to Rival poetry, and Zeb like. Is beyond not prepared for that left turn so has no Fucking Idea what to expect when Rex brings them back. The best part is that Reysha's message made it clear to expect Kallus as the forward facing personality once they land. Because they don't know what the fuck his plan is, but he's got one, and he asked nicely, so.

Not a man of half measures, Kallus steps off the ramp and is immediately eye-fucking Zeb and dropping more references. Which Zeb really can't wrap his head around. He wasn't gonna twist Kallus' arm about an apology. Kallus asks if Zeb really thinks so little of him and Zeb's like okay but you wouldn't have a reason to? You forgot. It's gone. Isn't it?

"…the way I feel about you, [rival, mine] was not lost. I woke up with your claws still in my heart, I just couldn't recognize your face." The High Lasana is imperfect--clearly the pronunciation is taken from a book, not learned by ear. But the effort is most certainly there. "I karked it up, I know. That's why I sought out your culture--and found my own feelings spoken back to me, in your voice."

Zeb’s eyes widen. He takes a hesitant step forward. “Kallus. I can’t— You keep slipping through my fingers.” He can’t say it but his body language screams it for him— he’s afraid to take the last step towards the other man. He’s drawn to him like a magnet, but… Kallus bridges the gap, taking the back of Zeb's skull and guiding him forward and down until their foreheads meet. Kal…needs a second, eyes squeezed shut as they breathe through the relief. They're burning when they open again, searing into Zeb's. "[None may fell me but you.]" Zeb makes a strangled sound. And then lifts him bodily into his arms. “Kallus,” he whispers, brow to brow and Chest to chest. “Kallus. [Rival mine. I grieved.] don’t — don’t you do that to me again, you understand?” "I'd come back. I'd--kriffing haunt you, you cannot escape me."

And then they sappily make out until Zeb remembers there's a surprise party planned for the kids return and they can't just neck all day.

which is where the RP tapered off, as they are want to do.

have I posted Lobot!Kallus? I keep meaning to I genuinely can't remember

vacant, only speaks when spoken to, has to be guided by hand bc his spacial awareness has been intentionally fucked with, is either In There behind all the programming, unable to jailbreak himself without permission which no one has thought to give him OR has been fractured so severely, his identity may as well be gone or only exists as a subroutine that only triggers under certain circumstances and is so buried by restrictions it's unrecognizable.

just things I do to my favorite characters uwu

[mxtxfanatic]

No, every interpretation is not valid in a piece of media unless the creator has explicitly said somewhere that they have left their work open to interpretation. If you wanna “choose your own adventure” your way through a story, Minecraft exists, The Sims 4 was made free, a blank Word/Google document is a few clicks away, a pen and paper are easily found in the supplies section of most stores. A story for adults with a plot, characters, and conclusion is not your build-a-bear. You are looking for fanfics.

Someone else took the time to make a thing and share it with you so that you could understand the thing they are trying to communicate to you. If an author writes, “The sky is purple,” you don’t get to go, “Well, in the world that I live in, the sky is blue, so the sky in the story must be blue, too. Let’s discuss!” and treat that as “valid interpretation” that should be discussed with equal weight as the people discussing “ok, what’s the significance of the sky being purple? 🤔” I don’t give a singular fuck about whether you are familiar with the "cultural context" of the story or whether you can understand the original language it was written in or whether or not you know the creator on a person level. None of that shit matters, because nobody consumes media for the express purpose of finding out whether or not it conformed to the bank of knowledge Rando Number User #24,232 has learned in life. No person engaged in real critique ever has to take you seriously if your attempts at "analysis" begin and end at "I don't know the author irl to know what their intentions were, so anything goes!" That is a lazy copout, nothing "critical" to be found. Not everything in a general fandom space has to be canon-exclusive, no, but every claim to canon has to align with what is in the actual source material. There’s nothing wrong with either of those statements.

So no, you don’t get to waltz into a canon space going “Jiang Cheng is a great brother and uncle, let’s discuss” and then get upset when told “In this book, Jiang Cheng is an abusive uncle and childhood friend, and round these parts, we discuss the book.” Don’t wanna discuss Jiang Cheng's canon characteristics? The main tags never went anywhere. Get from round these parts.

[shih-coulda-had-it]

wip of the novelizing of The Uncanny X-Men issues 147-148, which features: Doctor Doom's first introduction to the new X-Men and Storm's almost-Phoenix moment. wolverine POV; pre-stormverine | rolo, but definitely on its way there

wc: 382

//

Logan’s sanity has been in question for a good decade. Optimistically speaking, it’s a work-in-progress. When he was Weapon X for the Canadian government, Heather and Mac made an effort to keep him on an even keel. More human than weapon. More reason than instinct.

He’d sensed he was hitting some kind of block by the time Xavier came to fetch him. Something that couldn’t be overcome by medicine or therapy prescribed by a bunch of doctors who pretended to understand what the hell was happening to him. 

And don’t get him wrong. Xavier pretends to understand too, but the professor’s got telepathy, and that at least gets him a better view to the struggle. It gets Logan the surety of a safety rope; painless, so he wouldn’t flinch and retaliate, and inexorable, so he couldn’t resist. The fact that the X-Men also gets him a front-row ticket to some of the worst mind-bending trips of Logan’s life is, well. 

Pessimistically speaking, Logan is losing the war to keep his goddamned mind. He’s lashing out on reflex and instinct, seeing enemies in his peripheral. 

It was bad under Scott’s leadership. It is worse now, but he won’t blame it on Ororo. 

The slide’s been building momentum. Too many slips without a save. Xavier can’t be there all the time, so Logan tries to keep rational on his own, tries to keep the bloodlust down now that there’s a genuine kid at the mansion. Kurt seems to get it; he offers out of genuine sincerity to let Logan blow off steam with their games in the woods, and more than once, Logan is sure that Kurt’s had something to do with making sure Logan bumps into Ororo once a day. 

Which, on principle, Logan resents. 

Logan is a grown-ass mutant who doesn’t need minding. Never mind the evidence that Ororo helps, just by offering a word, or a joke, or a shoulder, or a mug of coffee. If Kurt indulges Logan’s predatorial instincts, Ororo—settles them. They aren’t pressed down like they are when Xavier intervenes. They aren’t even redirected to productive, if equally destructive, purposes, which was a favorite tactic of Scott’s. 

It’s not good. He shouldn’t be thinking of Ororo like a touchstone. She’s more than her position as his team leader.