#I wish I could’ve made it to more of the streams sadly I was busy right as they were going on normally

[kairithemang0]

Ngl, really missing Tin Can Tuesgays right now

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[jschllatt]

𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 | 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭

Prompt: Here's an irl version of the request if you'd like to try it! Schlatt and a few friends are streaming and end up talking about how the reader doesn't ever drink and is probably a lightweight, she gets slightly insecure because she wants to impress him, she ends up getting super drunk and schlatt walks in on her sadly babbling to herself and at first schlatt is worried but it quickly becomes amusement as he listens to her say she was just trying to impress him and that she's a failure and her just being a very emotional drunk, he's very soft with her and tells her that he doesn't care if she can drink or not he loves her for who she is, all while teasing her for trying to impress him HEJDJ he makes me feel things 🥺🥺 change whatever you'd like!! And if you aren't inspired, feel free to ignore!!

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, swears, and slight angst

Pairing: Schlatt x Fem!Reader

Words: 1,168

Masterlist

Thanks so much for the request anon, I absolutely loved writing it! I hope you enjoyed <3

Schlatt had been streaming for hours. 

At first, you were fine with it. It had been a long time since he’d last streamed, and you knew it was good for both him and his fans. But as time passed, you found yourself feeling lonely, having been unaccustomed to his busy schedule as you sat alone on the couch, bored. A sigh of discontent escaped your lips as you tore your eyes away from the tv, no longer in the mood to finish watching your favorite movie. You missed your boyfriend a lot—so much to the point where nothing would satisfy your longing besides Schlatt himself. Deciding to visit him, you ventured down the hall, stopping once you reached his door to ensure you wouldn’t be interrupting him. You were about to knock before you heard Schlatt say your name, the sound making you perk up in surprise. Though Schlatt’s fans were aware of your relationship, the two of you avoided public interactions, finding the privacy more comfortable. 

“What is the most embarrassing thing Y/N has done while drunk?” Schlatt muttered aloud as he read a dono, chuckling softly to himself. “She doesn’t drink.” He answered simply, soon after being met with an amused Swagger as his friend chuckled, “I wish I didn’t drink, then I could go back to being a lightweight.” Schlatt laughed in response, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. “I can’t imagine Y/N drunk, she’d probably just freak out or something.” You felt your heart drop, suddenly embarrassed at your boyfriend's words. Did he really think that you weren’t capable of holding your liquor? Sure, you avoided drinking and didn’t have much experience being drunk, but that doesn’t mean you can’t handle it, right?

Wrong. 

Minutes later, you found yourself in the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of vodka that sat idly in the cabinet. Schlatt had saved it for special occasions and only drank in moderation, respecting the fact that it was something you didn’t do, and had managed to finish three quarters of the bottle, leaving the remaining quarter now in your possession. You decided that tonight was special enough and brought the bottle up to your nose, cringing at its intense scent. Hesitant, you brought it down to your lips to take a swig, instantly grimacing as it slid down your throat painfully. It was impossibly bitter and made your face instinctively contort in disgust, but you swallowed sip after sip of the pungent liquid until there was none left. You tried to ignore your lightheadedness as you placed the bottle back in the cabinet, leaning against the counter as you tried to process what you’d just done.

Though your throat burned, you were still coherent—you almost could’ve convinced yourself that you were totally fine if it hadn’t been for the intense dizziness that took over your body just minutes later. Every step you took towards your bedroom felt heavy, forced, and you plopped down unceremoniously onto your bed, suddenly drowsy in your drunken state. Thoughts of Schlatt’s words circled your brain and you mumbled to yourself, upset, “Lightweight my ass.” Though you knew his intentions were harmless, you couldn’t help but take offense, feeling somewhat inadequate. The buzzing in your body only increased, and you found yourself growing uncomfortable, the feeling foreign. “Fuck.” You muttered, unable to process the unfamiliar sensation as you sat up once again, your body heavy. The sound of footsteps neared the bedroom, though you ignored them, continuing to mumble strings of profanities and incoherent words to yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turned your head slowly to meet Schlatt’s eyes, his expression one of confusion as he observed your delayed reaction. He stepped forward until he towered above your hunched form, practically standing between your legs as he asked incredulously, “Are you drunk?” You reeked of alcohol and appeared out-of-it, though you played it off, slurring a drunken ‘no.’ Schlatt bent down to cup your face in his hands, eye level with you as he murmured in disbelief, “Holy shit, you are.” You pulled away from his touch, feeling ashamed as you nearly fell back onto your bed. There was a brief moment of silence before you admitted, “I just wanted to prove I’m not a lightweight.” Your tone was dull and you had covered your face with your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled beneath your fingers.

Schlatt shifted so he sat next to you, placing a hand on the back of your head so he could pet your hair comfortingly. “I didn’t know you heard that. It’s not a bad thing, y’know.” He assured softly, watching as you pulled away from your hands. You blew out a breath, still riddled with sadness as you mumbled, “I thought I could handle it, I’m such an idiot.” Schlatt struggled to fight back a smile, finding your pitiful words amusing as he stared at you in awe—you were just too damn cute. “You’re not an idiot, baby. How much did you drink?” You turned to face your boyfriend, thinking for a moment before you answered, “A lot.” Schlatt laughed at your uncertainty, though you were humiliated, and felt embarrassed tears well in your eyes. 

“I’m a failure.” You cried suddenly, feeling a wave of tears trickle down your cheeks. No longer laughing, Schlatt moved so he could sit in front of you, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he countered worriedly,  “Hey, hey, hey, no you’re not, princess.” He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back comfortingly as he continued, “I don’t care if you drink or not, I’ll love you no matter what.” You sniffled pathetically into his shirt, feeling your tears subside as you took in his comforting words.

Minutes later, your sadness was soon replaced with a heavy drowsiness and you let out a yawn, making Schlatt chuckle softly. “Are you tired?” You could only nod in response, pulling away from his chest so you could wipe away your tears. His expression was one of amusement as he watched you sway slightly, steadying yourself by grabbing his firm shoulders as you continued to sniffle repeatedly. “All this to impress me, huh?” Schlatt teased with a smirk, snickering to himself once you shot him a pointed look. “Shut up, asshole.” You slurred. This only encouraged his laughter, and you fought the urge to laugh along with him, his giggling contagious. “Stop, it’s not funny.” You drawled out with a pout, still clutching his shoulders as he shook with laughter. “You’re right, it’s not funny, it’s hilarious.”

Playfully angry, you huffed, standing up shakily. You wobbled on your feet, nearly falling before Schlatt shot up to steady you, circling his arms around your waist. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and the two of you stared at each other in a brief silence before you blurted out, “I love you.”

Your boyfriend chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours as he replied adoringly, “I love you too, my beautiful, wasted girlfriend.” 

[no-pucks-given]

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

[andilovetowrite]

Punch To The Heart (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Warnings: Shooting and violence. But nothing too graphic. Some angst and crying, but also a lot of fluff :)

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

Part 1

Part 2

We’ve got he--r

Stay with us Y/nnnn

Come on, try anythin--

Oh, thank go-

Words swam in and out of your head, floating in front of you and into your ears. Voices shouted from either side of you at some point. You could feel yourself slipping into some type of unconsciousness, with bright white light shining through your eyelids. You could hear Peter’s voice mix in with your parent’s voices. You could hear May’s voice, and through some type of veil, you could listen to Uncle Ben’s voice as well. Sure that you were hallucinating, you tried to open your eyes but blacked out before you could try….

You regained your consciousness at some point, your brain making sense that you could not move your body. Which meant you were unable to roll your eyes. But you could feel things. The blinding sorts of pain in your stomach and right thigh. The rough material of some type of gauze covering your entire lower body. Your back bare, with your front covered in a flimsy cloth. And for a quick moment, you thought you were back in the van, with kidnappers and terrorists. And the thought alone made you pass out again…

The last time that you woke up, you were hit with a multitude of sounds and noises. Carts being pushed, metal creaking, glasses clinking. You could hear voices as well. The soft drawl of some lady next to you, one that you vaguely remember. A comforting voice, one that you were familiar with because she woke you up in the mornings. Your mom. Another deeper voice was trying to calm her down—your dad. A worried, yet the firm say that you knew since you went to her house every other day. Aunt May.

But one specific voice was loud and clear to you. High, slightly cracked, chocked up. A voice that you could recognise even if you were half dead. A voice that you grew up with, a voice that was by your side for years. A voice that now seemed to be crying softly from the other side of the room.

So with whatever energy you had left in you, you opened your eyes and whispered. “Peter”

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“Peter”, Peter said, shocked, staring at your body. “Did she just say, Peter?”

The doctor nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yes, she did, I believe. Are you her boyfriend? Or a family member?”

Peter shook his head, still staring dumbfounded at you. “I’m her best friend.”

The doctor sighed. “Alright, well, here is what we know so far-”

“Wait, shouldn’t Mr and Ms Y/L/N be here? To get an update on their daughter?“Peter interrupted, trying to see where they were. The doctor sighed again.

“They had to go to a business meeting and told me that a lady named May Parker would be her guardian until they return in a couple of weeks.”

Peter’s mouth flew open. “They left her?”

The doctor nodded, looking at you sadly. “Yes, they did, but I will send them daily updates about how she is doing.”

Peter licked his dry lips, suddenly realising how parched his throat was. “Here, drink some water, and I’ll tell you how she is.” Peter took the plastic cup from him, drinking it down.

“So first of all, she is getting better. Our team of doctors had predicted that she would likely be in a coma for the next few days, but she has regained consciousness, and her fluids are good. Her internal organs are getting stronger, and hopefully, if all goes well, she should wake up for good in the next day or two.”

The doctor read his papers, nodding politely at Peter, who was visibly calmer. The doctor looked at his watch, tutting softly. “It’s late. I would advise you to go home. Get a couple of hours of sleep. You can come back in the afternoon.”

Peter looked out, confused when he saw the starting rays of sunshine come in through the window. He was so tired that he didn’t realise that he had been in the hospital for 9 hours. Peter looked at you, weighing his options. As if the doctor could sense what was going on in his head, he patted Peter’s back. “Visiting hours have been over since 3 am. But it opens up again at 11. Go and rest for a bit. It’ll do you good.” Peter averted his eyes to you again before he nodded, kissing your cold forehead lightly before he walked out, hoping to get some sleep or rest.

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He didn’t get any sleep. Usually, if he couldn’t, he would call you or swing over to your house. Well, not usually. Ever since he started dating MJ, he wouldn’t even go to your home. And MJ never let him come over in the night, too paranoid that her parents would find Peter. Oh, and forget about patching him up after patrol. She would get sick at the sight of Peter’s bruises and injuries. One time, he even had to swing to the compound because he had been shot.

None of that would have happened if he had just been a good friend. Been a good best friend. If only he had not fought with you that day, not ignored you, then you wouldn’t be in the hospital with pipes going in and out of you.

Peter couldn’t shake his fear and paranoia, creeping out of his bed quietly, to not wake up May. Slowly walking to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He ran his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly. Tears slipped down his face, little by little as he tried to imagine how worried you might have been. Soon, he couldn’t see anything, as salty tears fell into the sink infront of him. “Oh god, Y/N”, he said, voice cracking. He dejectedly went back to his room, grabbing his suit. Instinctively, he pulled it on, opening his window slightly. Jumping out the window, he didn’t even know where he was going. Somehow, he ended up back at the hospital, looking into your window. It was open, letting in the warm air into your room. He sighed, letting the mask fall off his face. He let the wind go through his curls, feeling it dry the lines of water on his face. Suddenly, he heard some noise from your window. Looking closer, he saw your eyes flicker open, and your voice walf over to him.

“You can come in, you know? Everybody has gone to sleep…”, you said, your voice cracked and scratchy from not using it. Peter just stood still for a couple seconds, too shocked to move.

You were alive! And speaking to him…

Jumping in, he landed softly, not wanting to cause a scene. “He-hey”, Peter said, stuttering. You smiled at him, tiredness showing on your features.

“Hey Peter, are you okay?”, you asked, eyes going over his own, how disheveled he looked.

“You-I, I’m not the biggest thing you should worry about Y/N! You-you were shot. Twice. How-I don’t-wha-”

You reached out to him, wincing as you moved your arm. Peter noticed this, running over to you. “Don’t-don’t do that, you can hurt yourself”, he said, worry evident in his eyes.

You sighed, sitting back. “Pete, why don’t you change out of the suit. I don’t want nurses to walk by and see Spiderman in my room… especially if you don’t have a mask.”

Peter nodded, pressing the small button on his suit that made it shrink up, revealing his clothes underneath. Peter didn’t say anything, but walked over to you, hands in his pockets.

“How are you feeling?”, Peter asked, sitting down gingerly at the side of your bed. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. A few minutes passes, the silence becoming suffocating. Almost simultaneously, you both said.

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

Looking at Peter, you saw him staring at you indercously.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Why are you sorry?”

Again, you both shut your mouths, and as easily as you could, you gestured to Peter to say something. “Why-why are you sorry? I’m the one who put you in danger Y/N! Yo-you could’ve died.”Peter rambled, eyes starting to glisten as he looked at your body, how those men had hurt you. “I-if I had just not fought with you, then you wouldn’t have walked out of the school, and I wouldn’t have had to give you the bag, and then they wouldn’t have targetted you. Y/N, I’m the reason you are in the hospital. I can’t-yo-you got so badly hurt, I can-no” By this time, the dam inside Peter had broken, as tears started streaming down his face.

You could feel your own throat start to close up, so you did the only thing you could think of. You opened your arms up, letting Peter crawl in. He kept his weight off you, so not to hurt you even more. You ran your fingers up and down his back, calming him down.

“It’s alright, Peter. I would have them rather come for me than yo-”

“No”, Peter said firmly, trying to mask the crack in his voice. “Don’t say that. You are far more important than me, you can’t even wish that Y/N”

You smiled sadly. “Peter, the world needs Spiderman. They don’t need me…”

“No no no”, Peter said, making you look at him. “So many people need you Y/N”

“No, they don’t, Pete. My parents don’t care. I mean, they aren’t here, are they? What is it this time? A business trip?”

Peter tried to object, but he knew that you wouldn’t believe him. “I-I need yo-”

“And don’t say that you need me, because you had no problem spending time with M-”

“I broke up with her”, Peter said hurriedly, wanting to get it out as soon as possible.

You nodded, feeling guilty as a small part of you rejoiced. “Good for you”, you said, emotionless. An awkward silence enveloped the air around you two again, but this time, it became too much. Out of nowhere, you started crying, choked hiccups and sobs coming from your throat.

“Y/N!”, Peter said, smoothening your hair.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just so sc-scared and I was sure I was going to die, and I just can’t do-” You said, hugging yourself softly, as you looked at him through blurry eyes. And you didn’t have to say anything before Peter hugged you closer, the last thing you saw was his brown irises before you dropped to sleep…

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

Dr Lee walked around the hall, looking at the different rooms before he reached Y/N Y/L/N’s room, and he had to clean his glasses twice to see what he think he saw. Hugging you, with your legs intertwined, was Peter. Your face snuggled into his chest, his arms were looped around you, holding you close. What was the most astonishing thing was how even your breathing and charts were. No patient who had ever gotten shot would’ve recovered so quick, but he could see something was different.

Carefully opening the door, he quietly watched as Peter stirred, eyes flickering open as he drowsily smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before falling back asleep.

Dr Lee sighed, smiling at them. “Oh, they are obviously in love….”

Ooh, I really liked this part! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next (and last) part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋

Tagged: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer

[spookyboywhump]

Previous

Goddamnit

CW: Drugging, kidnapping, forcibly stripped (non sexual), branding, human trafficking

***

He had panicked at first, still struggling against his restraints, but at some point one of the men hit him over the back of the head with something, stunning him long enough that he could feel a pinprick of pain in his neck, not even given a chance to be scared before he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he came to, things were moving too quickly for him to make sense of it. He was still dazed as his restraints were being cut, but he didn’t have the strength to make an escape attempt. Even as panic set in when his clothes were being torn off him, he couldn’t fight, only whimper pathetically, unintelligibly mumbling his protests.

“He’s a scrawny thing, but he’ll probably fetch a good price.” Someone was saying, he flinched as he was jabbed in the ribs. His face was bright red with embarrassment, but thankfully he wasn’t left unclothed for long, he was helped into plain shorts and a tank top, and from there he was being led somewhere else. When his legs were too unsteady to keep up he was picked up and slung over somebody’s shoulder, carried to his next destination. He was slowly starting to regain control of his body, and just as he could’ve made an effort to get away he was dropped and his wrists were grabbed, shackled in front of him. His eyes widened, and he frantically looked at the men handling him, who hardly seemed phased by what they were doing. He realized they’d probably done this several times before.

“P-please, let me go…” He whimpered softly, but he was more or less ignored.

“Should’ve done this while he was still sedated.” Someone said, and he was grabbed again and held down, it seemed like it took two people, one to hold his body down and one to hold his head down, turned to bare the side of his neck. He hadn’t even had a minute to look around and figured out what was going on, he saw somebody approach him, standing at his side, and before he could even ask what was going on, something was pressed to the side of his neck, an agonizing, searing pain that caused him to shriek. His attempts to jerk away were useless, and though it didn’t last long, he was still left shuddering and sobbing, shocked by the sudden pain.

“Poor thing, you could’ve at least warned him.” One of the men said with a laugh as he got off him. He was pulled to sit up again, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the embarrassment he felt over crying in front of these people. The next time somebody tried to pick him up he went completely limp, trying to make this as difficult as he could.

“No!” He wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t- I don’t want t-to, please let me go!”

“Fucking hell, just pick him up so we can get him muzzled already.” He sobbed louder when he heard this, but he was smaller, weaker, and easily picked up again. He was so distraught he couldn’t even struggle, as though he already knew he didn’t have a chance here.

He was carried through a door, into a bigger space, and his eyes widened at what he saw through his tears. There were other people in the room who seemed to be in a similar situation as him, they all sat on the floor, hands shackled in front of them and cuffs around their ankles connected to the captive next to them, keeping them all in place. They weren’t gagged- they were muzzled, muzzled like animals. Some of them were crying, some were desperately trying to escape, and seeing them only caused him to panic more. He was dropped next to one young man, who watched sadly as a cuff was locked around his ankle. He was still begging and pleading when a muzzle was forced onto his face, finally muffling his voice. The straps were secured behind his head and they finally stepped back, talking among themselves about “finally being ready” and “having a busy day tomorrow”. Now that he wasn’t a problem they seemed to have forgotten he existed, not even sparing the boys a glance as they spoke.

He was still sitting there crying when they left, and at some point the man next to him reached over with his shackled hands to grab one of his, and though he was a stranger he was still comforted by this. He glanced up to look at him but the man was staring blankly at the floor. He realized he also had a burn on his neck, a brand of the number 23. He wondered if his neck had the number 24. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t want to know.

At some point, when it was only the captives left in the room, the lights shut off, but it never quieted down, the sound of chains, muffled crying and swearing, and soft whimpers still filled the room. He didn’t sleep during that time, but he wished he had, if only for a brief escape from this sudden nightmare.

[bibislut]

Drink-Addled

Why can't your best friend be your soulmate?

Harry's had too much to drink, that much is clear. So has every other man apparently, because they won't respect Draco's boundaries.

Word count: 1776

--- This work was inspired by @bisexualronaldweasley ---

Read on AO3

Find the rest of my work here

-----------

Harry emerged from the toilets, wiping his damp hands on his jeans. The music thumped loudly around him, shaking the floor as the strobe lights added to the disorientating, heady vibe of the club. He searched the mass of bodies for the last of his friends standing. Hermione, Ron, and Pansy had all retired for the night. Or should he say morning?

Finally, after a minute or two, his gaze landed on a flash of white-silver hair pressed against the wall in the far corner. A broad figure loomed over Draco, speaking into his ear as the Slytherin locked eyes with Harry, flashing them wide in a helpless manner. Harry gritted his teeth, peeved at the amount of self-entitled twats that had ground their desperate bodies against his unwilling friend. Couldn't they take a hint?

He marched through the crowd, narrowly avoiding drinks in his determination. He approached the two steadily, coming up beside them and slinking his arm around Draco’s waist. The broad looked over at him, confused, as Harry pecked the blond's cheek. "Everything alright?"

Draco smiled, placing his hand on Harry’s chest. "Perfect." He mouthed over the music.

The broad shot them both an annoyed look and ambled back into the crowd. Harry dropped his arm as Draco leaned into his ear. "Thanks!" He shouted. Potter shot him a lopsided smile, taking his hand and leading them back out to the dance floor.

The two had been friends for well over a year now, and it was comfortable as they lifted their joined hands above their heads, throwing their heads back and singing along to the music. The two danced the hours away, until the club closed and they found themselves stood on the street, drunken smiles on their faces as they stumbled down the road.

"I can't believe I used to hate you." Harry giggled, his arm linked through Draco’s.

"We were both horrid gits." The blond nodded.

"Oi!"

Draco snorted. "You're gonna act innocent? You-" he jabbed his finger into Harry’s chest, "-were just as guilty as me."

"Stop being right." The darker man grumbled, his hazy gaze landing on a group of people at the end of the street. "Is that..?"

Draco followed his gaze, and cursed. There was his ex and his friends. Panicking, he shoved Harry against the doorway of the nearest shop. "Fuck, shit, bollocks!"

Harry chuckled, his hazy mind cocky with drink. He put his hand on Draco’s face. "Don’t worry, I've got this." He said, pulling him in close. Their lips touched and Draco let out a small gasp. He tasted of mint gum, beer, and the salty sweat of the night. Harry kissed him hard, his arm around his waist. After the initial shock had faded, Draco leant into the kiss, their lips moving together hungrily. They stayed like that for a long moment, bodies pressed together, lips colliding, until the group had walked past. Finally, Draco shoved himself away.

"Oh, Merlin...I…" He trailed off, running his hand through his hair as he stared at Harry, his pink cheeks illuminated by the street light.

"I wish I could have seen his face." Harry chuckled, his drink-addled brain applauding his quick thinking.

“You kissed me!” Draco whisper-shouted.

Harry laughed again. “Was I really that bad?”

“No, it’s just…”

“Come on.” Harry looped his arm through the blond’s and tugged him down the street. They walked in silence for a minute, the darker man completely oblivious to Draco’s frantic thoughts. “Do you wanna stay at mine?”

“At yours?”

“You might as well. It’s closer.”

Draco thought about it for a moment. “Alright.”

They continued on, lips swollen, warm with drink. When they finally reached the flat, Harry dug out a spare set of pajamas and a towel, and left Draco in the spare room. He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, the whole process taking far too long and making him feel nauseous. He downed half a glass of water before climbing into bed and falling into a restless sleep.

Dreams of Draco’s lips chased him relentlessly, only for him to wake up breathless, his legs tangled in the sheets. Each time he woke, he was quickly dragged back under, finding himself once again pressed in the doorway of the shop, pouty pink lips pressed against his. The taste of Draco lingered in his mouth, sweet and bitter all at once.

“Harry.” Dream-Draco mumbled against his lips. The Gryffindor took it as an invitation, diving right back in, pulling him as close as he could.

----

Draco sighed, turning over for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t sleep, his slowly-sobering brain racing around the memory of their kiss. He’d left his school-boy crush behind him long ago, content with their friendship. But all his resolve had come crashing down the moment Harry’s lips touched his. How long had he yearned for this? To finally know what the darker man tasted like, how he felt pressed against him? He groaned into the pillow, his eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall. It was just past 4 in the morning. The kiss had probably meant absolutely nothing to Harry, just another drunken adventure. What was he talking about - probably? He was sure of it.

Draco sighed again, pushing away the covers. He stood up, glancing down at the pajamas that were doing nothing for his sanity. They smelt like Harry, like wood and spice and mint chocolate. He resolved himself to making a cup of tea, padding quietly down the hallway, and stopping just outside his friend’s door. Opening it slowly, he poked his head in.

The Gryffindor was sound asleep, or so Draco thought. Just as he was about to retreat, the other man let out a loud breath, followed by a word: “Draco.”

The blond’s heart stuttered. “Harry?” He whispered. He opened the door further, taking a couple of steps inside. “Harry?” He asked again, louder.

The other man groaned, opening his eyes blearily. “Draco?” He held his hand out and the blond walked forwards to take it. He pulled him in, lifting up the duvet with his other hand. Draco crawled in beside him. “Turn.” Harry grumbled, and he did as he was told, putting his back to him. Apparently, Harry wanted to be big spoon. “Better.” He mumbled, before his breaths quickly fell into a more rhythmic pace.

Draco’s heart was racing, Harry’s body heat behind him only making things worse. They’d never done this before. Never spooned, never even slept in the same bed. He knew it was only because Harry was half asleep, and still probably half drunk, but still his heart was in his throat. Draco listened to his breathing, trying to focus on anything but the growing warmth in his loins. Soon, Harry’s breaths lulled him into a shallow sleep.

-----

Harry woke with a start, letting out a small gasp. His arm was draped over Draco’s waist, his face nestled in his hair. Strangely, he felt almost content, warm and safe, surrounded by Draco’s scent.

What the fuck? Draco was one of his best friends. He hadn’t thought they’d crossed a boundary last night, but his racing heart begged to differ. Harry had never thought of the Slytherin as anything but his friend, though he wasn’t blind to his attributes. Draco was gorgeous, and kind, and made Harry laugh. He even enjoyed their bickering. But why had he pulled him in to bed? Why had he had dreams about them making out? Draco was his friend. Seeing him as something more? He’d never really thought about it.

He hadn’t moved, but he was flustered, and half-hard, and more than a little bit confused. He needed to calm down, cool down. He needed a cold shower. But how could he move? He didn’t want to wake Draco, deal with his questions. He could barely remember pulling him into bed, yet alone why he did it. Oh that’s right, he was too busy dreaming about kissing him. Fuck! What was he gonna do?

He tried to move away as gently and slowly as he could, worried his semi would be too obvious. Maybe Draco was still asleep.

“Harry?”

Maybe not. Harry scrambled away, and Draco turned to face him. He almost looked… hurt. The Gryffindor rubbed at his head, and nodded to the glass on his nightstand. “Can I have that?”

Draco passed it over, looking far too perfect in Harry’s bed. He appeared almost ethereal, the sunlight streaming in through the window illuminating his ruffled white locks, his silver eyes locked on Harry’s throat as he drank. Suddenly, all thoughts of a cold shower went out the window, and all Potter wanted to do was pull him in for a kiss, taste those sweet lips of his.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking.” The blond whispered, and Harry dragged his eyes from his lips up to his eyes to find them watching him sadly.

He looked away with a gulp. “Nothing good.”

Draco leaned towards him, and Harry watched as he put his hand over his. “Last night…”

“Was a mistake.” Harry said quietly, trying to convince himself more than anything else.

“Yes,” Draco agreed, shuffling closer on the bed and using his other hand to grip Harry’s chin, tilting it up towards him. “But I’d make it again,” he whispered, “If only to spend the night in your arms once more.”

Harry could’ve sworn his heart stopped for a moment. He didn’t know what would happen if he kissed Draco, what would happen to their friendship. Hell, he didn’t even know where all these new feelings had come from. All he knew was that it felt right. And if he wanted this, Draco was giving him the opportunity to take it.

He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Don’t be a sop.”

“Don’t make me a sop, then.” Draco replied lowly, leaning in closer.

This was it. This was the time to back out. But Harry had never been one to back down, and certainly not now, with his stomach full of butterflies for the first time in a long time.

He met Draco’s lips slowly, almost cautiously. He felt so right, and so warm, that Harry let out a little moan, and that’s all it took for Draco to crawl onto his lap, deepening the kiss. Harry wrapped his arms around his waist, their lips crashing together hotly. It felt so good.

As much as Harry could worry about what this would mean for their friendship, it didn’t mean that it had to end. After all, soulmates are best friends first.

[eruden-writes]

Carry On Redux

Series finale redone. Script format. 

I haven’t been part of the Supernatural fandom for a few years, but just hearing about that series finale chafed.

I literally wrote this in, like, 2 hours. Want better formatting? Find Carry On Redux by Eruden on AO3.

----

FADE IN

INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 Sunlight shines through sheer curtains on a large window. It’s a comfortable room with a mixture of modern and rustic decor. Family pictures hang on the walls and litter just about every flat surface. Most photos depict Sam Winchester and a blonde woman; then the two with a dog; then with children, growing older. Holidays, graduation, school photos, marriage, grandbaby photos.

YOUNG MAN sits on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He wears jeans, a green flannel shirt, and a jacket. His hazel eyes wide and attention rapt.

 YOUNG MAN

So, what happened after that?

 The question is posited to OLD SAM, sitting across a coffee table, in a recliner. He’s still relatively fit, but his hair has greyed and he now sports a bushy beard, reminiscent of Bobby’s. Laugh lines and crows’ feet crease his face. 

 OLD SAM

Well, once Cas sacrificed himself, Dean grieved for awhile. 

He didn’t eat or drink. Wouldn’t even come out of his room for pie!

 At that, Sam chuckles, half-sad and half-amused. 

 INT - MEN OF WORDS BUNKER - LIBRARY 

 Sam sits at a table, eyes on a book and brow furrowed. Beside him, a notebook is open to scrawled notes. Not much can be made out, but words such as The Empty, Angel, Retrieve can be made out. Strewn around him are empty cans and food containers.

Dean enters, slapping his phone onto the table with a loud CLATTER. Sam jumps, eyes snapping to Dean’s face.

 DEAN 

Found us a job.

 Sam looks down at the phone. A news article is splayed on the front about a trucker, found dead with his heart ripped out. 

Sam looks back up at Dean with worry and consternation.

Dean returns the look with unwavering seriousness.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

Just like that, we were back in the family business.

 MONTAGE - VARIOUS 

EXT - DARK FOREST

 Sam and Dean, back to back and holding guns. Trees ring around them, dark and shadowed.

Things seem to be moving between the trees.

One of the brothers shoots. An ungodly SHRIEK echoes. 

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover) 

Hunting things that went bump in the night.

 INT - ABANDONED PLACE

 Dean is stabbing stakes into vampires.

Sam aids a couple sobbing victims, wrapping wounds and ushering them out. 

Through boarded up windows, daylight can be seen streaming in. 

 OLD SAM

(voiceover)

Nothing as remarkable as stopping the apocalypse 

or reuniting God with his sister.

EXT - CEMETERY 

 Sam and Dean digging up a grave. They pour gasoline into the hole and toss in a match.

  OLD SAM

(voiceover) 

But we did whatever needed doing.

 INTERIOR - SUBURBAN LIVING ROOM 

 The Young Man is still sitting with rapt attention on the couch. 

 Old Sam sighs, shaking his head to and fro.

 OLD SAM

That went on for… oh, about five or so years.

 YOUNG MAN

And then?

 Old Sam sadly smiled. 

 OLD SAM

Then Dean died. 

 INT - PENTHOUSE SUITE

 Everything indicates wealth and luxury with rich mahogany wood and deep red palette. A plethora of worldly objects fill the abode: old looking vases, invaluable art, antique guns, a sword on a fireplace mantle. 

A nighttime cityscape can be seen through the large windows; the tops of other buildings can be seen from the vantage point, indicating a great height.

But there are indications of trouble. Broken pieces of furniture strewn about. One of the large windows is cracked. A broken aquarium, tropical fish flopping on the wet carpet. On a table, a corpse lays, stomach ripped out.

Sam and Dean each struggle against two black-eyed, sharp-toothed creatures that hiss and shriek. The creatures wear tattered clothing.

Dean gets thrown into a table, wood splintering and pricey knickknacks shattering. He’s dazed for a beat, before realizing his opponent is baring down on him, jaws inhumanly wide. His hand curls around a broken table leg, shoving it up and into the creature’s mouth. 

A sickening SQUISH is heard as the sharpened end of the legs skewers through the monster’s head. Black blood splashes across Dean and he gags. He quickly hefts the dead creature aside.

When he gets to his feet, he looks around wildly. 

The creature fighting Sam has gotten the upper hand. They cackle, before opening their jaws spread. Row after row of sharp teeth fill their maw. They jerk forward, intent on ripping out Sam’s throat. 

 DEAN

No!

 Suddenly, Dean is there, slamming into the creature’s side. The sword from the fireplace slicing through the creature’s chest.

Dean and the creature slam into the already cracked window. The sword pierces through the glass.

 SAM

Dean!

 The creature lies still. For half a beat, there’s silence. Then Dean’s shoulders ease and he laughs, half-turning to smile at his younger brother. 

Sam eases, too. Though he still looks worried.

Suddenly, the creature SHRIEKS, biting down on Dean’s shoulder. The window CREAKS. 

Dean and the creature fall through the shattered glass. Dean is still half-turned to Sam. They share a look. 

Sam rushes forward, hand outstretched.

 SAM 

No! 

 Time seems to slow. Dean smiles. The night sky is his backdrop.

 DEAN

It’s okay, Sammy.

 Sam stares, eyes wide. Almost disbelieving. 

The shatter window stands empty, framing the night and city. A distant IMPACT is heard, as glass continues to TINKLE.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

In the end, he got what he wanted. A hunter’s death.

 INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 QUIET settles over the room. The Young Man still leans on his knees, somber. 

 OLD SAM

Once Dean died, I did a few more hunts. 

Met Laura during one.

 Old Sam nods to a photo of himself and the blonde woman. 

 OLD SAM

Got a dog together. Had kids. Grew old. 

 He indicates more photos. One of himself and Laura with a dog. Multiple family photos. Photos of the family as they grew. 

 OLD SAM

Got just about everything I wanted. 

 Young Man tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. 

 YOUNG MAN

Just about?

Old Sam smiles fondly.

 OLD SAM

As much of an ass as he was, I still miss my brother. 

I wish he could’ve been here to share my happiness. 

To be my best man, an uncle, a great uncle.

 YOUNG MAN

I think he would’ve liked that. 

 Old Sam gives a sad laugh and looks to the large window. Through the curtains, an obscured view of his street is seen. It’s idyllic and peaceful. 

The front door’s lock CLICKS and the door is pushed open. LAURA enters, a bag in the crook of her arm. She’s older than her photos, with grey in her hair and laugh lines at the corners of her mouth.

 LAURA

Hey, hon. Mary couldn’t stay 

and visit, but she sends her love.

 She walks from the door to the adjoining dining room, crossing the living room right in front of Sam.

 INT - DINING ROOM 

 Laura puts her shopping bag and purse on the dining room table. 

 LAURA

While I was out, I ran into Debbie. She picked up

 some antique thingamajig and thinks it’s haunted.

 She turns to face the living room.

 LAURA

If you don’t mind, do you think you can-

 The easy smile on her face falters. 

 LAURA

Sam?

 She takes a step forward.

 INTERIOR -  LIVING ROOM 

 Laura traverses into the living room. Sam sits in his chair, head bowed and eyes closed. A photo album sits in his lap. Across the room from him, television QUIETLY PLAYS. The Young Man is nowhere to be seen.

 LAURA

Honey?

 She reaches a hand out to his.

Her hand slaps over her lips with a gasp. Her eyes are wide and teary.

Slightly translucent, Old Sam appears beside her. He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers quietly in her ear. Too quiet to be heard. Then, he presses his lips to her cheek.

Laura gasps, turning to face her dead husband. Her hand hovers on her cheek, where his lips touched her. Stunned, blinking back tears, Laura seems to know he’s there. 

 LAURA

(whispers)

Love you, too. 

 EXT - SAM’S HOME

 Old Sam and the Young Man stand on the sidewalk, in front of Sam’s home. The sun shines down, the street is quiet. In the distance, AMBULANCE SIRENS can be heard. 

 OLD SAM 

(staring at the house)

Thank you for waiting. 

 The Young Man scuffs his shoes on the sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets.

 YOUNG MAN

No worries. Got to honor my baby brother’s last wish, right?

 Sam’s attention suddenly snaps to the Young Man. Sam is no longer old.

In the Young Man’s place, Dean stands. He wears similar clothing as the Young Man and a halfcocked smile. 

 SAM

(stunned)

Dean? But… how?

 DEAN

Let’s say Death did me a solid, 

everything considered.

 SAM

I guess you two do have a past.

 Dean laughs and turns toward the street. The Impala is there, shiny and pristine. Dean motions for Sam to follow him with a jerk of his head. 

Behind Sam, the ambulance has arrived. 

 DEAN

I’ll tell you all about it along the way. 

 Sam starts forward as Dean opens the driver side door. In the background, a stretcher is being rolled out from his home, a white sheet around the body.

 SAM

Along the way?

 Sam skirts around the car and opens the passenger side door, settling in. 

 INT - THE IMPALA

 Sam briefly looks around. Inside, Baby looks as it always has. Nothing out of place, nothing rotting. 

Sam reaches for his seat belt.

 CAS

Good to see you, Sam. 

 Sam startles, turning to find the angel sitting in the back seat. 

 SAM

(shocked)

Cas? I thought you were in The Empty. Like forever.

 The angel gives a slight smile and nod.

Dean pats Cas on the hand, giving the angel an exasperated look. As if to say ‘you were supposed to let me handle this.’

Cas dips his head in apology.

Sam turns to Dean, eyebrows raised. He obviously has questions.

 DEAN

(sheepish grin)

I’ll tell you about that on the way, too. 

 Dean turns a key in the ignition, the engine purrs to life. He shifts into gear as they pull away from Sam’s home, where a curious crowd has gathered.

 DEAN

But right now, we’ve got hunting to do. 

 SAM

You can’t be serious. 

 The two brothers share a look. Sam obviously displeased and Dean straight-faced. 

Dean can’t hold the look for long and his expression melts into a smile. He turns his eyes to the road.

 DEAN

Nah, I’m pulling your leg. We got some friends waiting for us.

 SAM

Really? Who?

 DEAN

Ah, y’know, Bobby, Jack, Kevin, Charlie, Adam.

Some others. Heard Jess is gonna be there, too. 

 That causes Sam to sit up straighter.

 SAM

Jess? (eyebrows raise) Like,  my Jess? 

 DEAN

So she says. 

 Sam sits back in his chair, staring ahead. Conflicted expressions play across his face.

He stares outside his window. Outside, the road passes, but a white mist - or perhaps clouds - is slowly consuming the view. 

Dean glances at Sam, slightly concerned.

 DEAN

You okay, Sammy? 

 SAM Yeah. I just… This is a lot to take in. 

 DEAN

(laughs)

Yeah? Well, wait til you hear what I’ve been up to,

Mr. Two-And-A-Half-Kids-And-A-Picket-Fence.

 Sam turns to Dean, an amused smile on his lips. 

 SAM

Is this going to be a long story?

 DEAN

Nah. Not too long. If it was a show, 

I’d say… oh… about fifteen seasons. 

 Sam groans.

 EXT - THE IMPALA

 The Impala glides over a road, lined with a forest. The cloud-mist has just about obscured everything. 

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Hey, I listened to your boring ass life story!

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Which reminds me, why did you even disguise yourself?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

I had my reasons. 

 CAS 

(offscreen)

He wanted to hear what you said about him and if you missed him.

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Seriously, Dean?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Do you want to hear how I saved Cas from The Empty or not?

 RADIO STATIC buzzes on. “Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas” overtakes the static. 

 DEAN

(offscreen)

Oh, come on! 

 CUT TO SUPERNATURAL END CARD

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 36 - Redemption

~Hey guys! Chapter 36 is out today :) I hope everyone is doing well and excited for this one! Love y’all~

This was a time of healing and growth for everyone, including Negan. Molly had always known him to be a good man inside, but would he be able to show the others?

Two months later...

'You were right...' Rick said softly as he held my hand.

'I should have listened to you, I guess I just couldn't until now' he continued.

I just nodded and smiled, 'are you sure about this?' I asked nervously.

He let go of my hand as he placed both on my shoulders.

'Yes and you will lead them' he said proudly.

He started to walk away, back across the streets of Alexandria when I shouted after him, 'me?'

'The Sanctuary needs a strong leader Molly, if we're gonna do this right' he replied as he smiled softly and went towards the gates.

I just stood stock still and watched him as he walked away.

Was I ready for this?

I felt honoured that he trusted me in that way, especially considering that the majority of those moving to the Sanctuary would be ex-Saviours.

Yet, I was unsure, I hadn't been back there in years and I had no idea how it would feel.

I had suppressed old memories, the bad ones, for so long but when I go to the Sanctuary, I know I will be forced to face them.

But, I had to do this, for Rick, for Carl and his dream, for myself and even for Negan.

I thought about how he would feel about all this.

I knew he would heartbroken, to see another leader in his former home but I hoped that he would find some solace in the fact that he trusted me and knows how much I valued that place.

I told Rick that I would consider it, which upset him slightly knowing that I might not give him the answer that he wanted and needed for enacting Carl's vision.

But I had to be honest with him and myself about who I was.

I had always thought myself brave and confident but after everything these past years, I'm not sure that I'm the same person anymore and as much as I wanted to lead that place.

I knew in my heart that I just wasn't ready.

It wasn't about Negan or the Saviours that made me decline Rick's offer, it was about me and what happened to me there.

Still to this day, only Negan, Aaron and Tara knew and I wanted to tell Rick but I knew in my heart that if he found out, he would go straight for Negan and blame him.

So, I couldn't tell him but I knew he would want an explanation so I told him I would lead eventually, but right now we needed to focus on what we already have, not what will eventually come in a few years time.

Now, looking back, I wish I had told Rick everything...

The day of reckoning came.

There was a hoard of walkers, larger and more vast than we'd ever seen before.

They were heading straight for Alexandria and their sheer force and numbers alone would wipe out us all, so we had to create a diversion.

We all split up and tried different tactics, blasted music from our trucks, set off explosions, set up reflective objects.

None of them worked well enough.

We killed many of them and were heading back towards the bridge to recuperate when we saw him.

Rick was stumbling across the bridge, his hand on his gun and his other on a deep wound to his stomach that seemed to stain his entire shirt red.

Daryl spotted him first, he was only a few paces in front of the hoard now.

Once Daryl had alerted the rest of us, we sprinted towards him to help, Michonne screamed out for him.

Daryl and I shot arrows at the closest walkers to Rick to buy some time, Rick just looked at us pleadingly, asking us not to waste our time.

He knew he was going to die.

We all grouped up, shooting walkers that came too close.

The bridge wouldn't hold, we all knew that now.

Once all of the walkers were on the bridge, Rick pointed his gun at an explosives box on the bridge and blew it up.

A loud bang and a large cloud of fire and ash surrounded the place where Rick once stood.

Michonne tried to run towards it but Maggie and I held her back.

'Rick!' she screamed in pain.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the bridge was completely destroyed and rows upon rows of walkers lit by flames dropped into the river and floated down stream.

I whispered with deflation a soft 'no' as the smoke started to clear and Rick was gone.

Michonne couldn't bear to look and we just escorted her home while Daryl and I searched for Rick.

There was some comfort in not being able to find his body.

I don't know whether this was false hope but right now we needed any form of hope.

We searched for weeks on end, from dawn to dusk.

The only thing we found was Rick's gun, slightly buried in mud by the river.

We cleaned it off and brought it to Michonne to keep.

Some days were better than others but when the rest of us had to carry on, Daryl just couldn't.

'Daryl, we've looked, there's nothing out there' I said softly as I grabbed his arm.

'You don't know that' he growled as he walked towards the gates.

'No, I don't. But, what I do know is that Michonne needs both of us here right now' I replied sternly.

'Tell her I've gone out' he replied as he pulled open the gates and stormed out, crossbow slung over his shoulder.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

I chased after him, grabbing my bow from where it hung on the tree next to the gate and slung it over my shoulder.

'Daryl!' I shouted as he continued to storm out ahead.

I sighed as he didn't take any notice, 'Daryl!' I yelled again as I finally caught up to him and spun him around to face me.

We were now surrounded by trees, in the thick of the forest.

'What?' he retorted.

'I'm sorry, you were right. We can't give up, so I'm coming with you' I said softly, he just grunted.

I rolled my eyes.

'Don't do that okay? Talk to me, we've know each other for so long' I stated, he just stared at me.

'He ain't dead' he said hoarsely as he turned back around and marched through the grass.

'Daryl...' I said sadly.

'He ain't dead!' he yelled tearfully as he turned back around to face me.

His face now bunched up into a scowl as he marched back towards me, pointing and yelling, talking at me sideways like he used to.

'Why you even here, huh? You gave up! Just like the rest...not me! I mean, maybe I could've done somethin' he started yelling at me which turned into a soft cry.

There he stood in front of me, his tears flowed down his face as I just silently pulled my arms around him as he did the same.

Both of us, now holding each other just sobbed.

I didn't get it back then, but Daryl needed to keep looking for Rick for himself, he had to stay busy otherwise he would break down.

I stroked his hair away from his eyes, 'listen to me, we will find him...' I said softly as he wiped away my tears with his thumb.

I smiled weakly at his gesture and just held him once more.

I didn't know whether we would ever see Rick again, but I felt content in knowing that this was what he would've wanted, all of us together as a family, holding each other.

Six years later...

Alexandria was complete, or so it was in my eyes.

We had all come together to create Carl's dream and now it was also Rick's.

There were white washed houses with porches to match, a large armoury, fields of crops, hydroelectricity, watch towers for surveillance.

It was everything we desired, it was a self-sufficient dream land.

Michonne was doing well, she now led us at Alexandria, whether she knew that then or not.

She became pregnant after Rick's death and had her beautiful baby RJ (Rick Jr.) nine months later.

She was now a mother of two, Judith and RJ and I was their Auntie.

Daryl still went out searching for Rick, but a lot less frequently and I joined him on occasion.

Carol was still at the Kingdom where she also now had a family with Ezekiel and their adopted son Henry.

Gabriel, Aaron, Siddiq, Laura and Diane were all members of the council led by Michonne.

We were rebuilding civilisation and this would be a period of equality and fairness where our previous alignments didn't matter.

The Sanctuary remained a ruin. When Rick died, none of us felt like we could continue with that project, least of all me.

Tara was at Oceanside with Cindy where they now lived together, I was so proud of her.

In the past six years, Negan and I continued our talks in his cell as Michonne now allowed me to visit him whenever I liked.

I wasn't sure about it before but he had changed and for the better.

Every time I saw him, he seemed lighter than before like he was almost content with his situation.

I can't say that he was upset by Rick's death but he was saddened for our community and Michonne who he'd spoke to over the years.

Yet, even after these visits, Michonne still didn't believe he had changed and still pursued her opinion that I should keep my distance but also acknowledged that she couldn't stop me.

I wish I could say that we accidentally brushed hands on the bars of his cell or that he flirted with me endlessly but he didn't.

Every time we talked, it was deep and meaningful but nothing that screamed 'I love you'.

I know we had been getting to know each other again, so that we could start our relationship again but fuck it was hard just being in the same room as him and not doing anything.

I just wondered whether he still felt the same.

One night, once it was dark out and I was sufficiently drunk on homemade wine, I snuck across the street to the cell.

I tiptoed down the stairs and met Seth.

'Molly?' he asked tiredly.

'Hey Seth, I'm gonna need your keys' I said confidently and slightly stumbling on my words.

'I don't think I-' he started to say.

'Seth, Michonne granted me access at all times' I replied as I beckoned him to hand them over.

'A-Are you drunk?' he asked hesitantly.

'No' I said shaking my head for longer than necessary as I grabbed his keys and dismissed him.

I opened the door and locked it shut behind me, slightly stumbling over a brick that was concealed by the dark.

'Ooh' I shouted as I tripped which was followed by a alcohol infused giggle.

I heard Negan shift in his bed as he sat up suddenly and said, 'Molly?' as he stroked his beard.

God he looked so sexy when he did that.

I ignored his words and proceeded to his cell and fumbled through the keys to unlock the door.

He stood up and stretched.

'Molly?' he said hoarsely as he squinted in confusion.

It was only when he saw what I was doing that he said 'Wha?' which was all he managed before I swung open the door and pressed my lips to his.

I felt his hands drift to my waist as I pulled off my jacket and wrapped my hands around his neck.

At first he was taken aback by the kiss but within a split second I felt his lips move against mine hungrily like we'd been starved of each other for years.

His hands on my waist travelled up to cup my face in his hands as he deepened the kiss in between growls and moans.

He slipped his tongue between my lips to playfully graze my own as I pushed my body closer to his and ran my fingers through his hair.

He now pulled me in even closer till we were perfectly intertwined and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, keeping me there.

I pushed us forward till his ankles hit the side of the bed, forcing him to sit on its edge.

I pulled myself down onto him till I was straddling his thighs.

I heard him audibly moan and felt his eyebrows furrow as I started to grind on top of him.

His kiss abruptly ended when he pulled his face away from mine and gazed at me with his hands still cupping my face.

I just stared back at him questioningly, while his eyes darted between my own.

'Are you drunk?' he asked half amused.

'A little' I answered as my hands still roamed through his hair.

He rubbed my cheek, drawing circles with his thumb.

'You're inebriated. I'm not gonna take advantage of you Molly' he whispered softly.

'Why not?' I whined as I started to press light kisses against his neck.

He exhaled and chuckled, 'Molly, when you're sober I will gladly sleep with you' he said smirking as his hands drifted to my ass.

I seemed to sober up at his words and found myself coming to my senses.

I jumped up before he could touch me and stood before him, admiring my effect on him as I saw his straining bulge.

'Well, you'll be waiting a long time because you won't get this chance again' I said tauntingly as I placed a hand on my hip.

He looked up and chuckled, saying 'you wanna bet?'.

I turned on my heels, locked his door behind me as he called after me, 'you'll be practically begging me darlin'.

I smirked at his calling me 'darlin' again as I walked out of the cell and handed the keys back to Seth.

The following morning, I awoke feeling like shit. I had drunk so much wine which left me with a banging headache.

I took some aspirin with water when I ate my breakfast as I recalled the night before.

Fuck.

I had kissed him.

No, it was worse than that, I was practically grinding on him and begging him to sleep with me.

I slapped my forehead.

'I'm such an idiot' I said out loud as I sat in just a t-shirt.

When I went upstairs to have a shower and get dressed for the day, I spotted Judith sitting outside Negan's cell, she was reading and laughing.

I squinted in confusion as I realised she was talking to Negan.

Michonne would have killed me if she was here but she had gone to visit Maggie at Hilltop for the day.

I flung on new clothes and marched downstairs and over to where she was sat.

'Hi Auntie Molly' she greeted smiling widely at me, I waved and smiled at her as I plunked myself down onto the step she was sitting on.

'Whatcha up to?' I asked as she passed me the book she was reading, it read: Advanced Mathematics.

'Wow, you are one smart cookie, huh?', I said admiring some of the equations which I used to know so well.

'Could you help me with my homework, Negan didn't know some of these' she said softly as she pointed to the questions on the page.

I looked to the side to see Negan's window which was wide open.

I looked up from the book and shut it, placing it to one side as I shifted to focus on her.

She took off her sheriff's hat that had once been Rick's and then Carl's and swept her long brown hair out of her face.

'Judith, are you sure that your mom would be okay with you talking to Negan?' I asked softly.

She just looked at me questioningly and said 'uh huh'.

'You go down there all the time, why can't I?' she replied.

I hesitated and exhaled, saying 'well, because...'.

She stood up and grabbed her book and hat, 'he's not the monster you all think he is!' she shouted.

'Just ask your mom next time okay?' I pleaded.

Judith sighed and said 'this is bullshit' as she walked back to their house.

I just sat there watching her walk away in complete surprise.

Shit, I really had to watch what I said around her.

Michonne would have killed me if she heard that.

I sat on the steps, feeling the wind whip through my hair as I heard a faint chuckle coming from inside the cell.

I sighed and shot up, glided past Seth who automatically opened the door for me now and I stood in front of the bars where Negan was.

'What?' I barked as I folded my arms.

He smirked when he saw me, obviously still thinking about last night.

He rose his eyebrows and shook his head.

'Nothing, it's just that sometimes I think she takes after you more than ol' Ricky or Michonne' he taunted.

I rolled my eyes as he continued, 'she swears like a damn sailor! I love it'.

'Yeah well, guess I'm not cut out for this whole parenting thing' I said chuckling weakly.

'I don't know, I think you'd be a great mom' he answered as he came closer to the bars and brushed his hands over mine.

I was mesmerised for a second, thinking about having children with him when I snapped myself back to reality.

I scoffed and pulled away, saying teasingly 'i'm not gonna sleep with you, Negan'.

He chuckled, saying 'if memory serves, I think you've said that one before'.

I shot him a stern look when I realised that he was right and I walked back out of the cell, hearing his knowing chuckle echo all around me.

Little did I know that soon my Negan problem would take care of itself.

Maggie had met with a woman named Georgie who wanted to invest in Hilltop and said that she believed in the future and wanted Maggie to come to their community to help them rebuild theirs.

It was called the Commonwealth.

Maggie was sceptical at first, as was everyone but they had been so kind in granting us supplies and equipment that she felt she had to go.

She planned to take Herschel with her and be gone for about six months while Jesus ran Hilltop.

Little did I know that she had a question to ask me.

I went to Hilltop for a week to see Maggie and Jesus but when I got there Maggie asked me to stay permanently.

She told me that she had planned to ask me years ago but knew that I wasn't ready back then.

She wanted Jesus and I to lead Hilltop together as we worked really well together.

Jesus was like a brother to me and so it was a complete honour.

I knew in my heart that I had to accept and this wasn't like when Rick had asked me to lead the Sanctuary all those years ago because now I had a clear vision.

Being at Hilltop would mean that I could be closer to Tara at Oceanside, I could continue the agricultural development I had started years ago and I could still go back to Alexandria now and then when I was needed there or when I needed someone else.

Sometimes it felt like I made this choice because I knew that if I stayed in Alexandria any longer, I would have given in to Negan's allure and succumbed to his charms and as much as I wanted him, I couldn't let myself.

[firelxdykatara]

This is dedicated to @itspileofgoodthings - it’s an expansion on an idea I had that I wrote a bit of immediately after the season 6 finale, and while I lost the original post completely in the nuke (thanks tumblr) this has been kicking around my head recently, largely thanks to all Maria’s awesome meta. Also consider this an internet hug cause I know you’ve been having a rough time of it lately. <333

Anyway, this is basically how I envisioned Elena waking up from the coma, all those years ago when I was still angry and raw over tvd’s treatment of my girl but just wanted her to be happy in any way I could manage it.

This isn’t edited or anything so just. Bear that in mind. It’s four am so the quality probably suffered greatly as a result. >.> Anyway, enjoy.

---

It could have been minutes, or years—time had very little meaning, in this place. She supposed, on some level—and when she could suppose things at all—it made sense. A magical coma didn’t have a whole lot of precedent to follow, but when one was cursed to sleep for what could easily be decades, the ability to mark the passage of time was kind of immaterial.

Actually, it would probably have served as an even more brutal form of torture. Elena wondered why Kai hadn’t thought of that.

Then again, she’d never really had a whole lot of experience with the business end of magic. That had always been Bonnie’s department, and now, thanks to Kai, she would never be able to see her best friend alive again. The moments of clarity were thrown into sharper relief against the backdrop of the formless cloud of an existence she drifted through, her body and mind perfectly preserved by the curse—kept in a limbo of semi-reality. Perhaps that was the point, if anything Kai did ever really had one. (He was a psychopath with no real plan except power and how to gain more of it. It wasn’t all that surprising, in hindsight.)

Those moments when things did solidify, Elena never could quite tell what caused them. Sometimes, she almost thought she could hear Damon’s voice, whispering her name—a prayer, almost, or an oath. A promise. There was a giggle she thought could be Caroline, or her brother’s crooked smile, flashing like lightning across her mind’s eye.

Sometimes she saw Aunt Jenna, and her parents.

“It’s not time yet, sweetheart,” Miranda Gilbert said once, smiling sadly from the other end of Wickery Bridge, the petals of calla lilies cascading around her like rain.

Elena wanted to protest. To run across the bridge and hug her mother—but she stood rooted to the spot, and the scene shifted and vanished, and she was alone again.

When the loneliness became too much, the realization that she was completely alone in this place that tasted bitter on her tongue and cut like a knife, sometimes a memory would surface. Her first date with Matt, long before her parents died and Elena began her journey that started with the gloomy graveyard girl and ended in a coffin for who knew how long—and, really, how was that for irony?—or the first night she stayed up with Damon, curled up together and just… talking until the sun came up and Elena had the first real taste of forever.

A stray thought might make her wonder if she was reliving firsts because she was worried about all the lasts she was missing. But she tried not to think about that, and it was easy—thoughts ran like water, and slipped through her fingers just as quickly.

So, she had no idea how much time had passed, when something happened that hadn’t since right after she’d gone to sleep.

Someone else was here with her.

Her surroundings took form—familiar, achingly beautiful in its simplicity, and far more real than anything her own mind had been able to conjure up. And when she saw her visitor, she knew just what it meant.

“Oh, Bonnie. No.”

Tears welled up, part sadness, part sharp relief at suddenly being, part agony over that relief—because it could only mean one thing.

Bonnie Bennet looked as if she hadn’t aged a day, but when she was spoke it was with the voice of age and wisdom. “Elena.” It almost sounded as if she could hardly believe it, herself. “I’ve missed you.”

The tears fell as Elena ran forward, enveloping her friend in a hug. “Please tell me this isn’t happening,” she whispered, her voice thick as she pushed it out past the lump in her throat. “You found some other way. Right?”

Bonnie pulled back, saying nothing, but tracing Elena’s face with her eyes. She reached out with one hand, brushing the tears from her friend’s cheeks, shaking her head slowly. “It’s my time, Elena. It was going to happen some day—you know that. I just wanted to see you one last time before I died.”

“But you’re not… I mean, you’re still so-”

“Young?” Bonnie interrupted with a laugh. “This is a dream, Elena. I can look however I want.” Slowly, though, her appearance changed—wrinkles appeared, laugh lines and crow’s feet and hair shot through with grey and white. “Though I do look damn good for a hundred and twenty,” she added, and the look on her face was so unmistakably Bonnie that Elena couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“You’re ok with this?” Elena asked, her eyes earnestly searching Bonnie’s face. “Was your life everything you wanted?”

A smile spread across Bonnie’s wizened face, and the years melted away again. “You look out for my grandkids, and they can tell you all about my life.”

“Grandkids?!”

Bonnie’s eyes sparkled when she laughed. “I fell in love. I lived my life, and raised a family, and got to see the world. I was happy. I promise,” she added, pulling Elena back into a hug.

It felt more like a goodbye.

“Now it’s your turn, Elena Gilbert,” she whispered, and then everything went dark.

  For the first time in a century, Elena’s eyes opened.

She gasped at the sudden onslaught of sensation—there was sunlight streaming between the blinds, and everything felt fresh.

There had been a certain stale stillness to everything in the dream world after a while, but this, she knew with sudden and painful clarity, was real.

And the pain was because she hadn’t moved in a hundred years.

It felt as if a million hot little knives were poking at her feet and her hands and sending fire through her veins as every major muscle group screamed in protest. One hand was gripped in Bonnie’s—it was then Elena noticed her friend’s body, the aged version she’d seen briefly in her dream, lying next to her on the bed. She could so easily have been sleeping, and tears stung at the corners of Elena’s eyes. She pressed a gentle kiss to her friend’s cooling cheek, and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She only stumbled a step, a pained whimper escaping from her throat, before the door to the room burst open and in a rush of displaced air, he was at her side, catching her before she fell.

Damon. Damon Salvatore. And the sun seemed that much brighter.

“Damon?” she whispered, voice rough with disuse, as she looked up into his eyes—those startlingly green eyes that made her toes curl.

“You’re awake,” was all he said, sounding for all the world like a drowning man who’d finally remembered how to breathe.

Or, perhaps, remembered why he wanted to.

It all fell into place, after that. Stefan and Caroline were in the living room waiting, and one of Bonnie’s granddaughters, all of whom filled her in on the passage of time, everything that had happened while she was asleep.

The first thing she did was visit the family plot. “I’m sorry, Jer,” she whispered, kneeling in the grass in front of his tombstone. “I missed everything, didn’t I? My niece’s grandson is older than me!” She laughed, while tears rolled down her cheeks. “But you missed some things too.” She brushed the tears from her face. “Damon’s human, now. He took the cure from me after I woke up. I guess he spent the past century making sure the whole world thought the cure was destroyed—last thing we need are vampires coming around when we can’t defend ourselves, right? And Bonnie’s gone, but I hope you guys have plenty of company on the other side, now. Or whatever it is that happens after we die. It’s kind of nice not to know, actually. Feels weird, not having some immortal out for my blood anymore, knock on wood. But I wish I could’ve gotten to see you grow up. Better be saving a spot at the table for me, you hear?” She shook her head, running her fingers across the etchings in the stone that marked her brother’s name. “Wish you were still here, Jer. But I’ll be ok. I promise.”

  Later, Caroline was only too happy to help Elena settle into a new identity and get her back into medical school. This time, she managed to actually attend most of her classes. Damon had that bar he’d gotten for himself while still a vampire, and, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Damon is actually happy as a human,” Caroline said, months later.

Elena gasped in mock outrage, and her friend raised her hands placatingly. “I’m not saying it’s a surprise he’s happy with you—just, I always thought he’d feel some… regret, for giving it all up.”

“Damon’s forever was always Elena,” Stefan spoke up as he entered the kitchen.

“You know, it’s super not fair that you both still have superhuman eaves-dropping skills,” Elena remarked, then laughed, throwing a few more things into the chilli. “But… you’re not wrong. I was surprised, too. But I’m glad he is. I never wanted him to have to sit by and watch me wither away.”

“Now you can wither together,” Stefan quipped. Elena threw a celery stalk at him.

It was… perfect. An almost idyllic life. Of course, there were issues. There always would be—that was life, and perfect as it may have seemed, it was still real. But Elena and Damon had always been that. Real. Messy and imperfect, and they had their arguments, but somehow, a normal human life was so much more survivable without immortals trying to kill them.

Really, it wasn’t the end of their story—just the beginning. The beginning of another story, too, as Elena discovered not long after.

“What is it, baby?” Damon asked, in that way of his, the slight hitch in his voice when he thought Elena was in trouble or hurt and needed to be able to fix it. The way his eyes focused on hers, as compelling as ever, even human as he was. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing. Oh, god, for once, nothing at all, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Tears were filling her eyes, but they weren’t from sadness, nor anger. And, finally, she found her voice.

“I’m pregnant.” And the only word for the light in her eyes was joy.

[backtothestart02]

Can the line be "im in love with you iris"

Drabble 9 - The Flash Season 5 Countdown - 2 Days Left!

(There should be a part 2 to this, I just know it. It’s too angsty to be left hanging. But for now, it will have to be. Enjoy! lol.)

She thought things were good between them. She thought theyhad gotten past all of it. Him telling her he loved her on Christmas two yearsback, Eddie’s jealousy of her friendship with Barry, even the revelation thatBarry was the Flash and she was the only one that had been left in the dark.

Eddie had almost died. After that, she swore she’d neverleave him again. She loved him. She was in love with him. Whatever she felt forBarry was too little too late. As long as remained her best friend no matterwhat, she could pretend those months where he’d pressed that she felt the sameway were a distant memory.

But then he knocked lightly on her door in the dressing roomon the day of her wedding, decked out in a tuxedo as her best man – Linda washer maid of honor, so the two had to share duties for the big day – and she hadto quiet the heartbeat hammering away in her chest.

“Barry,” she said, grasping for air. “What…wh-what are youdoing here?”

He wasn’t listening. He was just looking at her, taking herin.

“You look beautiful, Iris,” he said, finally meeting hereyes.

“Thank you, Barry,” she said softly, feeling suddenly shy.She couldn’t tell him it’s bad to see the bride before the wedding, because…well,he wasn’t the groom.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, telling herself there’s noother reason he should be visiting her instead of getting ready for theceremony with Linda and the bridesmaids.

“What? Oh, yeah, Linda’s got it covered. I definitely don’tever want to get on her bad side.” He chuckled.

She smiled and nodded. “It’s not a fun place to be,” sheadmitted, having been there once or twice, albeit briefly.

He cleared his throat when the silence stretched outpainfully. Then he took a step forward, reaching for her and then pulling back,seemingly unsure of what he should be doing with his hands.

“Listen, Iris, I’m really grateful for how you put the pastbehind us.” Oh, no. “Eddie makes youreally happy, just like I knew he would.” Please,Barry, don’t. “Happier than I could have made you, I’m sure.”

“Barry,” she warned.

How could he do this? How could he make her feel conflictedon her wedding day?

“I just…I have to tell you. Just…one more time before I cannever say it again.”

“Barry,” she begged,desperation in her eyes.

She couldn’t take this kind of stress. As her best friend,it was ridiculous that he was adding even more pressure to her on a day as bigand stress-inducing as this.

“I’m in love with you, Iris.”

His eyes were so deep she could’ve drowned in them. In thatinstant the stress of what he was saying melted away, and all she could feelwas his love for her pouring over them, making her feel safe and loved. Despiteher determination to remain true to Eddie and never question their relationshipever again, if Barry had come to her with confession any day but today, shemight have reconsidered it entirely.

It was as if a dam had broken, and all she wanted in lifewas to let the floodgates pour unending water into a new precious, perfectrelationship for her and Barry, one not solely based in friendship.

But then she blinked, the reality of the big picturecementing firmly in her mind. Tears filled her eyes, and the most heartbreakingwords tumbled past her lips on a whispered breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His lips parted. “Iri-”

A knock on the door broken the tension between them, andBarry backed up when Joe walked in.

“Everybody decent?” he asked, chuckling.

Joe hardly had a moment to take in how beautiful hisdaughter looked when he registered Barry in the room and the pained look onboth of their faces.

“Am I…interrupting something?”

“No, Dad,” Iris said quickly, reaching for her father’shand. “Barry just came to wish me well on my wedding day.” She glanced over ather lanky best friend looking devilishly handsome in his sharp tuxedo. “Isn’tthat right, Barry?”

Joe was looking at him intently, and Barry knew this was atest. Tell a lie, and it would be the end of ever pursuing something with Iris.Tell the truth, and Iris would be furious. She might hate him. But Joe wouldtry his damndest to convince his baby girl that her best friend was who shereally wanted. That would devastate Iris, since her father had finally comearound to accepting Eddie as a son-in-law.

“That’s right,” Barry said, forcing a smile. He met Joe’seyes but only for a second. He knew he’d see right through him if he looked anylonger. “I always cry at weddings, and this is…she’s my best friend. I loveher.” He looked straight at Iris, and she sadly looked back at him. “Seeing hergiven away to Eddie is bittersweet, but there’s nothing I want more than herhappiness.”

Iris looked about to say something, but Barry excusedhimself before she could. Something about seeing if Linda needed any helpbefore the ceremony started.

“Iris,” he saidwarningly. She knew that tone. It meant business.

“It’s my wedding day, Dad.” She looked up at him, and a tearstreamed down the side of her face. “Aren’t you going to tell me I lookbeautiful?”

He sighed and brushed away the tear.

“The most beautiful in the world.”

[dis-easedfairy]

Pizza

Warnings!: Implications of torture | Dark Threats | Mentions of Blood

Genre: Mafia!au, One Shot

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 1,647

Mafia!au Mini-Series

A/N: I don’t agree with some of the things Y/n says in this short because I eat pineapple on pizza and I’ve very open-minded when it comes to anything really.

I sighed bitterly as I made my way to the location that Jungkook had sent me. A small house seemingly in the middle of nowhere by the water. It had been constantly raining since I got there and didn’t seem like it would stop. I walked up to the door and punched in the code and stepped in.

Jungkook sat on the couch, just spread out in a complete relaxation as he sipped on his soda while Taehyung cleaned Jungkook’s cut that was a slash across his collarbone. Jimin was in front of them on the floor, laptop in the coffee table as he tinkered with a bundle of wires and a handheld radio.  The laptop displayed security cameras that were set up in obscure places you wouldn’t think to look, but were very efficient in knowing everything that was happening in the area.

“You fucks knew I was coming and didn’t open the door!?” I complained, they saw me and let me freeze in my thin hoodie and cold rain!?

“I’m kinda busy, N/n.” Taehyung sassed back, pressing hard on Jungkook’s wound to emphasize his point.

“OW!! WHY!?” Jungkook swatted Taehyung and tried to pull away but Taehyung pulled him back, muttering, “Why are you moving?”

“I could get electrocuted if I do this wrong or stop. You don’t mean that much to me, N/n.” Jimin admitted honestly.

I moved closer to them, “Fair enough, did J-Hope eat?”

“Nope, he’s been in there for 4 hours straight now. You know him, no one is allowed in until he’s finished. Plus the guy hurt our Kookie,” Jungkook groaned at the name, “so he’s gonna be in there longer.” Jimin informed me, not looking up from his tinkering.

I sighed and walked over to the table where a takeout container with ‘HOPE’ was written on it was sitting.

“Tell the guys you’re okay. They’re on edge.” Jungkook called to me as I made my way down the hall.

I saw two men standing outside a room. I could hear muffled screams and Hoseok’s voice. One of the men raised their eyebrow at my entrance.

“I’m N/n. I’m okay. Let me in.” I stated simply, making it obvious how uninterested I was in their bullcrap fake-tough act.

“J-Hope made it clear no one was allowed in.” One said, making me sigh.

“Listen, I’m not just anyone. I came here because my boyfriend doesn’t know how to chill and eat like a proper human being. You can either step aside or I will force you aside. I’m really tired from the long ass drive here so I would really appreciate it if you cooperated. ” They only folded their arms in protest.

I groaned. I went to open the door but one shoved my shoulder. I really was tired and was not fond of having to hurt two ‘guards’. So I decided Hoseok was the reason I was tired, so I was going to be a brat and make HIM handle it.

“HOPE! IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR IN 5 SECONDS I WILL THROW THE BIGGEST TEMPER TANTRUM!” I shouted at the door.

I heard the lock click in 2 seconds and it swing open at 3. Hoseok gave me a small smile.

“Hurry up and come in, stop being a big baby.” He chuckled.

I stuck my tongue out at the guard who shoved me and walked in. There was a man tied to a chair, blindfold on, covered in cuts and blood. The room itself was empty but a tall lamp in the corner and a table to hold everything Hoseok was using.

I casually moved some blood covered weapons over and set the takeout box down.

“On the table.” Hoseok suddenly ordered.

“Listen, I don’t roll like that, you have a guy tied to a chair and I don’t know him. If someone like Jin for example watched, I might be cool with it, but not this.” I joked, earning an eyeroll.

“Table.” He repeated.

I pouted in defiance.

“3...2...” I quickly got on the table, for the first time fearing the number 1.

Hoseok’s hands slid up my shirt to the belt-like holder for a pack of needles that he made me carry for safety reasons. He detached the pack from the belt and pulled them out my shirt to view. He opened the back and looked confused.

“Why are three missing? You had 10?”

“...Well, you see...” Hoseok folded his arms.

“I’m listening.”

“A guy I talk to needed them.” Hoseok pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in irritation.

-“I swear if you gave them to Jungkook”

-“I gave them to Jungkook.” We said Jungkook’s name at the same time.

“He’s the worst one to give them to!”

“No, no, no, I could’ve given them to Jimin and Jimin could’ve killed someone.”

Those needles were full of a toxin that paralyzes someone for a short amount of time. Hoseok gave them to me as a defense. Just to make someone leave me alone long enough to get away. He regularly asks Taehyung for refills and makes sure they’re still potent enough for me to use. An overdose of this can, of course, lead to a victim being paralyzed and eventually death.

Even though Jimin hangs out a lot with Taehyung he doesn’t pay attention to this toxin because he’s more interested in inflicting pain or death. Jungkook only knows because he uses this toxin to occasionally fuck with everyone.

Last week he got Yoongi while they were trying to interrogate someone and Yoongi still beings it up even if it wasn’t that bad. He once got Jimin in the middle of a mission, it was dangerous but Jungkook made sure Jimin was safe the whole time...Jungkook even got Namjoon who is supposed to be our scary leader but is soft for all of us.

Taehyung makes sure to have a steady stream of this toxin’s antidote in his body just in case he’s next on Jungkook’s hit list. Seokjin threatened Jungkook that he wouldn’t take care of him next time he was injured. Which left Hoseok, who sadly didn’t have anything to hold over the younger’s head.

“Don’t worry it’s not that bad. You panic at first, but just know it will wear off in 6 minutes.” I shrugged.

“...N/n, please don’t tell me...”

“He really wanted to win that round of Mario Kart...The first time I’m doing good on Rainbow Road and he ruined it.”

“Aish! That boy.” Hoseok was on grabbing his phone out his pocket.

I grabbed his phone, slammed it on the table and scooted the container closer to him.

“I’m really tired, I have to be a work in 3 hours and you still have some things” I looked over at the tied man, “to take care of. Just eat please.”

Hoseok sighed and nodded his head. He climbed on the table with me and took the container. I handed him his utensils and he began to eat.

“How much longer until he talks?” I questioned Hoseok.

“AN ETERNITY!” The man shouted.

“I was talking to my boyfriend, rude ass! Stop eavesdropping!” I shot back to Hoseok’s amusement.

“It’s been 9 hours total. I’d give it 6 more hours and that’s because I’m busy today. I can’t be here forever.” Hoseok shrugged.

6 more hours!? Hell no. I got off the table and kicked the guy in the shin.

“Listen fucktruck, just give my boyfriend the information he needs, because if I have to take this long ass drive to come back because my boyfriend doesn’t take care of himself, I will make it my personal mission to take out every male in your family tree until the day I die. And believe me, I am that spiteful to make it a fucking family tradition!” I shoved my thumb in a deep cut in his thigh, making him howl in pain.

“Why males?” Hoseok asked, mouth full of food,

“No one to carry the family name and females can have kids. I don’t want to fuck with adopted kids though, they didn’t ask for that bullshit.” Hoseok only nodded, eyes trained on his food.

I stormed out the room and had Jungkook look up something for me. I came back and made sure to read the name off my hand.

“Devin, age 17, he gets up to go to school in 3 hours. How convenient that I’m on my way to work at the same time. It would be a shame to make him my personal speed bump, wouldn’t it?” The man squirmed, actively trying to get loose but saying nothing.

I really won’t kill a kid, but I did need to make it seem like I would. If talking and torture didn’t work, then I had to hope this would.

“I was also made aware that Devin has a little brother on the way back home from Paris? You lived the high life, didn’t you? Normally we don’t threaten children, but you sir raised yours to track us down. Now tell me, do you wish to speak or do I bring your kids here personally since they don’t know me yet?”

He spouted out an address to me.

“Bitch, that’s the address to Domino’s! I know because I order pizza a lot and I owe Jungkook several- Wait, that Domino’s location is right near the water AND and highway. You fuckers have the perfect cover with your weird pizza!”

“It’s not weird, N/n.” Hoseok laughed as he began to write down the address.

“They put a whole shrimp including the tail on their pizza. The potatoes I sort of get but shrimp? I knew y’all couldn’t be trusted.” I folded my arms, shaking my head.

“It’s good if you try it.”

“Sometimes I don’t trust you either! Pickles and pizza!? I can’t trust you guys to order sometimes because I take a bite of the crust and it has sweet potato. Just stop arguing with me and eat your non-shrimp pizza.”

“The pickles cut the richness! Why did the guys put this in a container and why did you give me chopsticks and a knife for pizza?”

[yuki7900archive]

TLNM Oneshot: It's Quiet Uptown

Oh geez, I wonder what inspired this 

Koko sat on the bench overlooking the clear blue ocean, a breeze blowing through her orange locks of hair. She wrapped her black cardigan tighter around her chest and crossed her arms for warmth, rubbing her arms slightly after she shivered. It was quite cold today, unlike the sunny days that Ninjago usually experienced. It was fairly quiet too, and the silence haunted her. She wasn't used to this quietude at all. Life had always been busy and go, go, go for her. Yet now? Everything had just come to a complete standstill.

The sky looked beautiful this evening, the woman thought to herself. The mix of oranges, pinks, reds, and yellows created a magnificent scene for anyone's eyes to behold. Koko felt blessed by the very sight before her eyes. She hadn't seen a sunset so pretty before. It was mesmerizing. She refused to take her pupils away from the perfectly painted canvas in front of her. It wasn't often that she got to sit down and take in her surroundings.

With a long and drawn out sigh, Misako shut her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. The waves lapping against the beach, the seagulls crying out to one another as they flapped their wings along with the wind. She heard the slow and cautious footsteps coming from behind. She heard the creak of the bench as the person sat down beside her. Then she heard his voice.

"Koko." His deep, irritating voice, filled with so much regret, so much guilt. She hated it, she despised it. How dare he have the audacity to show his face to her after everything he had done. What made him think she would ever want to talk to him again? Comfort him? Be by his side? No, he could leave her alone and she wouldn't give a damn.

"What do you want?" She hissed at him, showing her displeasure at his presence. It was more of a rhetorical question that she had given him, and Garmadon knew this, however, he still answered with sincerity anyway.

"I came to see you." Misako opened her eyes again, her eyebrows furrowed deeply. Her glare pierced through his soul and sent cold shivers down the tall man's spine. He swallowed nervously as he twiddled his fingers.

"I know I don't deserve it, Koko. But hear me out, that would be enough." She scoffed and shook her head. Unbelievable. Hear him out? For what? What could he possibly say to make this entire situation any better? Nothing, was the correct answer. He could preach or beg or reason all he pleased but not a single thing would change what he'd done. It was irreversible. She would never forgive him for this. However, she found the whole concept amusing. He tracked her down to tell her something that she was immediately going to shove to the side because, really, there was no excuse. She needed a laugh, she'd forgotten how to it had been that long, so she let him continue.

"Okay, so this whole situation is pretty tough. Not just for me but for you, especially. And...And I know there's no replacing what we've lost and you need time to come to terms with it all." He paused momentarily to clear his throat. Misako just sat there, motionless. She didn't even peer or glance in his direction. She simply kept her arms folded and slouched forward in her seat, focusing on the horizon in front of her. She thought about abandoning Ninjago for good, leaving it all behind and starting fresh. She imagined herself speeding along on a boat or down underwater in a submarine. Anything that would get her away from this place. It may have been her home but now? Now it housed nothing but bad memories.

"Please, Koko...you have to understand-."

"What is there to understand?" She spat angrily at him and he shut up immediately. He could sense the rage bubbling inside of her. "All of this is your fault, Garmadon. That's all there is to it."

Her voice wavered and her lip quivered but she maintained her glare of utter disgust and disapproval. To think she'd ever loved the pathetic excuse of a man sat beside her. He didn't even dare call him a father. No father would ever do what he had done.

- - -

Lloyd coughed and spluttered relentlessly, having only small gaps where his wheezing ceased and allowed himself to breathe. He hissed and gritted his teeth in pain as he pressed his hand against the wound cut into the side of his waist, a futile attempt the prevent any more of his blood to escape. Unfortunately, this was no tiny cut, it was a deep flesh wound, and the crimson liquid was coming out in thick streams, pouring out onto the floor and staining the pavement which he lay upon. The boy cried out in pain when his dad took away his hand and shoved a torn up piece of cloth to take its place. He was so desperate for the leaking to stop but it just kept going and going. He didn't mean to hurt him that badly. He didn't mean to shove his sword so deeply into his side. He didn't...

"Dad..." The young teen panted out, his eyelids beginning to droop a little as the blood loss rapidly drained all his energy and strength. Garmadon immediately hushed him.

"Shush. Don't speak a word, just, save your strength. You have to stay alive son, do you understand me?" Tears formed in the warlord's eyes as he looked into his sons emerald green hues. The boy didn't look frightened or upset, he just looked empty. The flame that made up Lloyd's heart was slowly dying out, and if medical professionals didn't arrive soon, that fire would soon be extinguished.

Garmadon twisted his top torso around to see his ex-wife sprinting towards them both. Her heels slammed into the ground as she made her way over, the clacking sound they made gradually getting louder and louder with each step she made against the pavement. The warlord gulped but kept his hand firmly against his son's bleeding flesh, focusing on trying to keep him alive.

The mother scrambled to her son's side and gripped his bloodied hand in hers, squeezing it with all her might. Lloyd squeezed back. She was holding back the tears that were ready to trail down her ghostly pale cheeks. She needed to be hopeful, positive! Yes! Everything would be just fine. It would all be okay. She would make sure of it.

"Lloyd! Look at me, okay? Don't take your eyes off of me." Her tone was a frantic one, worry and dread filled her thoughts at the scene laid out before her. Her other hand cupped the young boy's cheeks as she tilted his head to line up with her's. Lloyd's breathing was ragged and it was evident he was in unspeakable amounts of pain.

"M-Mom..." He whispered out, his voice broken and barely audible. He was losing a lot of his energy.

"Yes, Lloyd! I'm here. Your mom is right here. Everything is gonna be alright, okay? You just have to keep your eyes open. Can you do that for me?" Lloyd didn't respond, he gritted his teeth yet again as he tried to ignore how badly his body ached. He wasn't a quitter, so he'd stay awake as long as he could.

"What happened?!" She suddenly turned her attention to the guilty party of one that knelt to her left. The woman was infuriated and was losing control of her emotions. Garmadon could smell the fiery inferno that was burning away in her heart, however when peering into her eyes and hearing her scream at him, he saw and heard nothing but fear and a desperate cry for a miracle.

"It was an accident, I swear-."

"AN ACCIDENT?! WHAT KIND OF MORON STABS HIS OWN SON SO HORRIFICALLY AS AN ACCIDENT?!"  The man flinched slightly, afraid of his ex-wife and what she might end up doing to him. She looked ready to tear all four of his arms off and feed them to a pack of ravenous wolves. Probably the ones she had adopted when they were still married. Were they even still alive? She didn't take them with her. Perhaps she let them go? Ah well, he would never know now.

"Mom...I-" The ninja boy spluttered and coughed, regaining his mother's attention as she leaned closer to hear what he had to say. "I...I'm sorry I took you for granted. Everything you ever did was for me and-" He coughed yet again, this time, even more blood coming through. Misako tried her best to keep it together, but even Garmadon could tell she was slowly falling apart at the seams. She knew what was coming, and sadly so did he.

"...I never really...told you how much you mean to me."  Lloyd slowly reached his hand up to his mother's ginger locks and brushed a few stray strands out of her eyes. She felt his fingers gently press against her scalp as he gripped onto her hair. He tugged a little as he let the rest of his arm relax, but Koko didn't mind. It told her that her son was alive, that he was fighting.

"I love your dumplings, they're the best I've ever had. And...And those days where I was really sick and you'd give me soup that always instantly made me feel better. I kinda wish I had it now." Both of them laughed half-heartedly, trying to make light of the situation. Misako was ignoring the fact that's her son's clutch was becoming sluggish with each passing second. "You always do so much for me. I never returned the favour..."

"Your smile was enough, Lloyd."  The woman murmured to her son, shortly followed by a smile of her own. Sure enough, the boy beamed back at her with the same smile she was talking about. Even in this very moment, he could still muster the strength to give her what she loved and treasured. He was the greatest son she ever could've asked for. The day he was born was the happiest day of her life. She didn't care that she was the offspring of one of the most feared warlords in all of Ninjago because he was still her son.

She pressed her head against his, shutting her eyes tightly, and took a quivering breath as she uttered these few words to him.

"I love you, Lloyd." That's the moment his hand slid away from her hair, pulling out a few strands from the bun and making them fall down by the side of her face. Misako opened her eyes yet again and pulled away.

"Lloyd?" She choked. His eyes were closed.

"Lloyd?" She repeated his name, hoping, praying that he would respond. When he didn't, the emotions began to spill out. A river exploded out of her eyes and streamed down her face as she hiccuped and wrapped her arms around her son, pulling Garmadon's hand away from his wound so she could hold him close to her.

"LLOYD." Yet again she cried out his name, and again, no response was heard. That was when it was decided. His flame was officially gone.

Garmadon could only sit there and watch as his ex fell apart in front of him. She was hunched over the young teen's body as she protectively held him to her chest. She was howling his name by this point, in complete and utter despair and anguish. The man didn't know what to do. What could he do? How could he ever live with himself, knowing that his son's death was all his fault? Ninjago was his now but what use was it? He'd lost any hope of ever getting Koko back. Not just that though...he'd lost his son.

"MY BABY." The warrior screamed to the grey clouds above as the water just kept flowing. Her tears splattered against the ground. "MY BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY."  

Garmadon decided to say nothing. Instead, he left Misako to mourn her loss on her own. He would be doing the same.

---

"Koko, I..." The warlord sighed and shook his head. His shoulders sagged as he focused on the floor beneath his feet. "You're right. It is all my fault. Our son is gone because of my carelessness."

Misako blinked in slight surprise. He wasn't finding excuses or shoving the blame onto something/someone else. He was admitting he was wrong. Garmadon, the evil warlord, was admitting he was wrong.

"If I could trade his life for mine, I would. Truly, Koko, I would do anything to get him back. Because at least then...at least then you'd smile again. And that's all I want. For you to be happy." He didn't expect any response from her. He didn't force her to say anything either. He had accomplished what he'd come for, and now he would leave her alone forever. So he stood up and began to walk away.

"Wait." She spoke up. Garmadon halted and turned his head back to see Koko stood up from her seat. She was fully facing him, her hands down by her side with her fists clenched nervously. Instead of the angry glare he was expecting, he was instead greeted with a sympathetic frown. It wasn't pity, it wasn't disappointment or upset, it was understanding. Understanding of the pain he was feeling. Because she too, was feeling that same pain.

"I was going to walk in the park, the cherry blossoms have bloomed and Lloyd loved them so much...Would you like to join me?"

The man wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to spend time with him, even after...well, everything?

"I don't know, I mean, I got a lot of evil, warlording business to take care of."

"Ah..." Koko's frown deepened. "I understand."

"But...I suppose I can spare some time." The warrior slowly peered back up at him. "For Lloyd."

That's when he saw it. The old, familiar smile of hers. A smile he hadn't seen in a very long time. And you know what? It was just as beautiful, maybe even more so than the one she'd given him the very day they'd met.

---

"Lloyd came here after school sometimes. He used to love lying in the grass and just kind of...feeling it. He told me he could feel the life of the entire city through his fingers." Koko explained as both she and Garmadon sat on a bench in the park. The pink petals on the trees ran up the path endlessly, the occasional bunch falling from the branches and fluttering down to the gravel path below.

"Mhm," Garmadon hummed. "What else did he love to do?"

"All sorts." She muttered. "But I think what he loved most of all was saving Ninjago. He wasn't getting hate from anybody, only praise. He was proving to himself and others that he wasn't what they said he was. I think it also gave him the chance to try and get to know you better, although it led to a lot of hurt at the end of every battle."

Again, the warlord could only hum a single sound, unsure of what to say. He felt guilty, there was no denying it. He'd killed countless before, but he would never forget murdering his own son. To think, all those years he'd spent pretending he didn't exist, acting like he was some pathetic baby, simply to try and move on from Koko. Even then it didn't work; he still loved her dearly. He was hurt, he supposed. He never expected their marriage to end, and yet it had. Would it still have if Lloyd wasn't born? Not that it mattered, because he loved his son. He would do anything for him...except he didn't. Now it was too late.

"How is Wu?" The ginger-haired woman shrugged.

"I am not sure. Last I saw him was at the funeral. He took off in the bounty in the night and hasn't returned since. I asked his students if they knew where'd he gone, but all they said was that he told them he would be gone for some time. I'm not shocked though, your brother was very fond of Lloyd, he only ever did what was best for him."

"Yeah, sound's like my little brother." Koko let out a singular laugh at the man's tone of voice. He sounded annoyed, jealous even. How typical of him, she thought.

"How are his students?"

"They are okay. Still struggling to come to terms with it all but they're getting there. I think it hit Kai the hardest, those two were like siblings. They visit me every now and then and we all have dinner together. It's nice." Silence shortly follows as they both quietly think to themselves. Lloyd's death had caused devastation for everyone. The ninja, Wu, Misako and Garmadon. All of them missed him dearly, and none of them expected him to die as young as he had done. But really, all they could do during this difficult time was be there for one another. Despite Wu being away somewhere, they all hoped he was okay. Lloyd's friends looked out for one another and Misako. But...Garmadon? He had no one. And really, he needed company just as much as the rest of them.

Without realizing it, both Koko and Garmadon's free hand's had slid closer towards one another's. Their fingers overlapped and slotted perfectly together. They remained quiet even after that because sometimes no words were needed. They knew they were there for each other from that moment on. They would put their differences aside for the first time in sixteen years, all for their son.

They would get through this as a team.

[everlastingcaptainswan]

Seven Encounters (Modern Royalty AU)

Summary: It took seven times for Emma Nolan to realize she loved His Royal Highness Prince Killian, but it only took him two times to realize he would chase her to the ends of this earth.

AO3 

FF

The Fourth Encounter

After a long night of research and missing a certain Prince, Emma flops down on her bed and falls asleep immediately not even bothering to take her clothes off.

A few short hours later she is shaken awake by none other than August with Graham and about five other agents in her room.

“What the fuck are all of you doing here?” she asks when she realizes she isn’t alone or asleep anymore. She sits up and blinks several times before fully waking.

“Emma, get up and change. You’ve got fifteen minutes until we leave. Pack an overnight bag as well,” August instructs her.

“Swan is secure, I repeat, Swan is secure,” Emma barely heard Graham say into his phone. This grabs Emma’s attention and she rises from her bed coming eye to eye with August.

“August, what the hell happened? Who needs to know that I am safe? Are mom and dad alright?” Emma asks quickly, her volume raising with each question.

“We have to leave get ready now,” August tells her.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck happened,” Emma demands stubborn as ever. She crosses her arms demanding an answer.

“Emma, you need to calm down. There was an attempt made on your mother’s life. One shot hit her that’s all we know,” August says in a calm, even tone. This whole time he hasn’t been able to meet Emma’s eyes. It’s unsettling, it’s the worst news she could hear and he can’t even look her in the eye. Her mother’s been shot and she’s a whole ocean away from her. Her mother could be dead and she doesn’t know.

Some grabs her arm and turns her towards him. When she looks up Graham’s gaze meets hers.

“Emma, I know this is tough and scary, but I am going to need you to pull yourself together here. Now you got ten minutes get together whatever you can and we’re leaving,” graham demands and she nods. All of the agents file out of her room and door shuts.

Emma’s still in her outfit from yesterday, so she doesn’t bother changing. She grabs a small duffle throwing in some clothes and toothbrush. Emma grabs her purse and throws in in the duffle along with her phone and charger, her hands shaking the whole time. She just wants to know if her mother is alive. She needs more than her mother’s been hit by one shot. Her ten minutes are up. Emma puts on her shoes and her agents practically drag her out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind them.

“I need more than she was hit. August, I need to know she’s alive,” she demands as the take her down to the car.

“Emma, this happened an hour ago, I know she’s not dead, but all I know about what happened is that she was hit,” he explains as the put her in the car.

“Dammit, that’s not good enough!” she yells at him, “This is my mother we’re talking about. She isn’t some protectee to me she’s my goddamn mother and I need to know she’s going to be alright.”

“I am sorry that’s all I know,” he says sternly as the car speeds away, where to well just like everything else Emma doesn’t have a goddamn clue. She leans back in her seat hoping her mother is alive.

About fifteen minutes later they are waved into a royal airstrip and Emma is even more confused and angry than she was before. She needs to be with her mother. What the hell is going on? Why are they here? The car pulls to a stop in front of a jet and Graham gets out and opens the door for her.

She climbs out of the black SUV and sees Killian climbing down the jet’s staircase. She launches herself out of the car and towards him.

“Killian, what the hell is going on? All I’ve gotten out of these people is that is that my mom was shot! August won’t even fucking look at me,” she practically screams, tears pooling in her jade green eyes. Killian reaches out and takes her hand. She doesn’t push him away, but tears start to stream down her face. He gently takes her into his arms holding her until she stops crying.  

“Emma, I am sorry about your mother. She’s a strong women. She’ll pull through. Now, she and I had a conversation when you moved here about a contingency plan if something were to happen back in the states. The plan was exactly what happened tonight your agents brought you here and I have my jet prepared to take you home,” he announces.

The two of them share a look and he gives her hand a squeeze. Emma turns towards the jet, but doesn’t let go of his hand quite yet. He is letting her use his jet. He’s always here for her; steadfast and strong and when she needs to be alone he actually listens. He gives the space she needs it. They have only been together a couple of months and here he is willing to do anything for her. He would do anything for her and she cannot bear the thought of being on that plane alone. Her grip tightens on his hand and her head snaps backs to him.

“Come with me,” she says quickly.

“What?” he asks her, shocked and not entirely sure what she just said.

“Please come with me. I am going to lose my mind stuck on a plane for eight hours with the seven agents on my detail, who can’t and probably wouldn’t tell me anything about my mother’s condition. Please come with me,” she pleads with him. He places a hand on her cheek and she gives him the smallest smile. It’s all she can manage at the moment.

He can’t leave her, not when she’s like this. This is the most vulnerable he’s ever seen her. Although she would never in a million years admit that. She has walls and he’s been attempting to take them down, but it’s a slow process. Despite the walls he’s been able to read her like an open book. She’s scared out of her mind and he understand her fear all too well. He doesn’t want to leave her. He had no idea how he thought he could’ve watched her get on a plane and fly away from him.

“Let’s go,” he says as he leads her towards the plane.

“You can actually go? There’s nothing more pressing here?” she asks as she tries to keep up with him shocked that he actually agreed to leave with her. She asked him on a whim. She hoped he would say yes, but didn’t think he would.

“There isn’t anything more important than this, I assure you. I had a  function, but it’s nothing a donation to the charity won’t fix,” he smiles.  

“Are you sure?” she asks as they board the plane. All her agents file in behind them.

“Positive, love. Now sit down, that chair reclines. Get comfortable I have to go talk to the pilot,” he tells her and presses a kiss into her forehead. Emma tries to stay awake, but sadly she’s running on a couple hours of sleep and honestly they won’t get any information until they land. No matter how much she fights it her eyelids close and she falls asleep.

When Killian comes back to their seats he finds Emma sound asleep. He’s glad she’s resting she probably won’t get any rest when they land. He was afraid she wouldn’t sleep, but the last of her adrenalin must’ve worn off. He settles into the seat next to her and tries to get some rest as well.

A couple of hours later his phone rings and Killian jolts awake. He answers it without looking at the caller ID.

“You know when you’re going to another country it is customary to let your family know you’re leaving,” Liam chides him. Killian groans.

“I am sorry. It was very last minute I didn’t even bring a change of clothes,” he grumbles, still trying to wake up.

“I understand, just please call next time. How’s Emma holding up?” Liam asks.

“About as well as can be expected. She’s sleeping now I can’t imagine there will be much of that when we get there,” he comments.

“No, I wouldn’t think so. Give her family our best wishes. Just wanted to check in,” Liam says.

“I’ll pass it on. I’ll call back when we land,” Killian says. They exchange goodbyes and hang up. A loud ringing comes from Emma’s bag on the floor. Killian leans forward and pulls her phone out of her bag, seeing that the ringing hasn’t woken her up. He looks down at her phone and her father’s caller ID is flashing on the screen.

“Mr. Nolan,” Killian answers the phone.

“Prince Killian?” David says shocked, “Is Emma alright?” his voice filled with concern.

“Emma’s fine. She was busy with studying tonight and didn’t get much sleep, so I think she was exhausted when we got on the plane and she passed out. How’s the President?” KIllian asks, sure Emma will want the information as soon as she wakes.

“Still in surgery, but they were hopeful it was a clean shot. I’ll have more information by the time you guys get here. Tell Emma I love her,” he says.

“Of course, we will see you soon,” Killian says and David hangs up. Killian doesn’t envy his position. Waiting to hear what will become of the women you love is a cruel fate. He looks over at Emma, even in sleep she is beautiful he can’t imagine anything happening to her. For a while now he’s known he loves her, but he knows saying that will scare her off, freak her out. He’ll wait until she’s ready; she’s got walls for a reason. He cannot imagine what David is going through right now nor does he ever want to. He manages to drift to back to sleep.

A couple hours later Emma gently wakes Killian, although it takes him a few seconds to really wake up.

“Come on sleeping beauty,” she says softly.

“I’m awake I promise,” he claims as he slowly sits up, “Your father called and you were sleeping and you didn’t wake up so I answered. I hope that’s alright. He told me that she was still in surgery, but they were hopeful it was a clean shot. He said to tell you he loves you,” he recounts the phone call.  

“Thank you. I didn’t even hear it ringing. I’m glad we know more, even though it isn’t much,” her voice gets all choked up and the tears threatening to fall down her face. He pulls her into his arms and holds her close.

“He seemed very hopeful, love. Your mother will be fine. I promise it will be okay,” he whispers into her ear. She pulls herself together and looks up at him.

“I really hope what you’re saying is true.” All he can do is hold her closer.

The plane lands and the Secret Service Agents whisk them away to the hospital. David is pacing in the waiting room and when he sees them approaching there is a smile for a brief moment. Emma collides into her father and he wraps his arms around her, tears in his eyes.

“She’s out of surgery, but is under from anesthesia. We’ll be able to see her soon they had to move her to a different room,” her father explains as Emma releases him.

“What happened, dad? All I know is she was shot. No one will tell me anything,” Emma says frustration evident.

“I don’t know all the details exactly, everything just happened so fast. One minute we were leaving an event and everything was fine then seconds later shots were fired, people were screaming, and then suddenly we were surrounded by agents. They pushed us into the car and drove straight to the hospital. Most of it is a blur,” he sighs. A doctor approaches the group, ending their conversation.

“Come this way, she’s all settled in. She should wake up any moment now,” he says reassuringly. They reach her room and Killian pauses at the door.

“Love, I’m going to wait out here. Give you two a moment,” he says abruptly. Emma looks back at him and grabs his hand.

“No, you should come in. Mom likes you; she won’t mind,” she says with a soft smile and he smirks. He nods and she leads him into the room. When they enter David is holding Mary’s hand, who’s still unconscious.

“The surgery was very successful, no complications. It was a very clean shot, really it’s a miracle. One more inch to the right and it would’ve tore through her liver,” the doctor comments. The whole room just nods, not really feeling that anything in this situation had anything to do with miracles. The doctor leaves and Emma lets go of Killian’s hand and moves to her mother’s side. Not wanting to disturb any of the wires and tubes connected to her Emma lightly holds her mother’s hand.

All the stress of the last few hits her in a wave and she pulls a chair to her mother’s bedside, her father sitting on the other side of the bed. Killian settles in one of the chairs on the wall. Her head slowly lulls off to the side and she slips into slumber never letting go of her mother’s hand. Her mother is safe and out of surgery. Everything will be okay.

With a jerk Emma wakes up and realizes her mother has too. She feels a smiles spread across her face. Mary is propped up on some pillows and looks a little disappointed. Emma sits up in her chair, wondering how long she was out for.

“Charming, I told you that would wake her up,” her mother scolds her father, using his nickname. It brings up childhood memories and it makes Emma smile.

“You wanted to sit up, you can’t have both things,” he points out.

“Mom, I am glad you’re alright. I was so worried about you,” Emma says grabbing her mother’s hand again.

“I know, so was I. It was the most terrifying moment of my life. They got me here fast and everything is okay. The doctors did their job,” Mary reassures her daughter.  

“Good. I’m glad you’re okay,” Emma smiles and Mary just squeezes her daughter’s hand. Emma looks around the room and notices Killian’s absence.

“He had to take a call from the King,” Mary says before Emma could even ask, “Speaking of, it was never the plan for him to come with.”

“I thought you liked him? Now you disapprove?” Emma says confused.

“Emma, I like Killian you know I do. I was surprised is all. I didn’t know he planned to come with,” Mary says quickly.

“He didn’t I asked him to come,” Emma blushes, not looking at either one of her parents.

“You’re serious about him,” David comments.

“Can we not talk about this now,” Emma says flustered. Mary just nods giving David a knowing look. Killian enters the room and Emma smiles at him.

“The King wishes you a speedy recovery,” Killian says with a tight smile. Emma can tell something is wrong. The phone call couldn’t have gone well.

“Thank His Majesty for me,” Mary says and Killian nods. In usual Mary style she gives her husband the least subtle look and he sighs.

“Emma, you need some rest. Your mother is suggesting we all go home get some rest and come back later,” her father says with a look that says that it’s not a suggestion.

“Secret Service will drive you home. I want all of you out and only come back when you’ve had a few hours sleep,” Mary orders them. Emma sighs, but gently hugs her mother, knowing there is no sense in fighting her. David smiles and gives his wife a kiss. Killian nods and waves goodbye. The three of them file out of them room and Mary lies back in her bed closes her eyes. Rest, what The President needs now is rest.

The car ride back to The White House is silent. All the adrenaline has worn off and the three of them are exhausted. Emma’s hand rests in Killian’s, both of them not needing to say anything. David notices this behavior and it warms his heart. Emma isn’t one to show affection, especially in front of him and Mary. He won’t press the issue, but he knows that Killian means more than she lets on, or perhaps she hasn’t realized it yet.

Once they arrive the trio makes their way to the Residence, not speaking to anyone due to sheer exhaustion. Killian and Emma slip into her room and Emma thinks her father will say something at this, but he doesn’t. He quietly goes into her parent’s room.

Emma’s door closes and she sits on the end of her bed. The room is fairly bare due to the fact that most of her possessions are in London. Killian plops down next to her on the bed.

“Are you alright?” she turns to him and he laughs.

“I’m fairly certain I should be asking you that,” he says and she smiles.

“Well you should be and I’m offended you haven’t,” she jokes, “No, seriously I know when something is wrong with you,” she says with an all knowing look. Killian runs his hand through his hair.

“My father, the dear king, is not pleased with me I’m afraid,” he cringes.

“Because you came here?” she asks.

“Yes, all about abandoning responsibilities. I told him that was ridiculous that I wasn’t running off and partying. It was an emergency and you needed me by your side, it’s where I wanted to be,” he shakes his head. Emma breath catches slightly at this statement. There’s moments where it’s too much and she knows he’s in deeper than she is. She likes to ignore those moments and pretend they don’t exist. Sometimes they are very hard to ignore.

“Maybe you should go. I don’t want you fighting with your father over me,” she says never quite looking him in the eye. He reaches out and brushes her cheek, she moves away from him. It’s something she’s never done before and Killian won’t lie the action stings.

“Emma, he would’ve found something else to fight about. If you truly wish for me to go I will, but I don’t want to,” he says, knowing she’s trying to shut him out, trying to protect herself. He finally catches her gaze and she pulls him close. He kisses her fiercely, he wants her to know that he isn’t going anywhere. She loses herself in the kiss she doesn’t want to think about what any of this means, about what they’re becoming. Tonight she’ll get lost in him.

--&--

The next morning after much needed sleep Emma, Killian, and David return to the hospital. Ruby joins them, claiming that there is urgent business that needs the President’s attention. Emma suspects that Ruby just wants to check on her. Mary is feeling much better and has improved significantly.

“You all look much better and rest. Well except you Ruby have you gotten any sleep?” Mary asks, worried about one of her oldest friends.

“Wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway, too much work to be done,” all Ruby does is smile.

“Emma, you and Killian should head back. I’m fine and you have your program,” Mary says and Emma grabs her hand.

“You’re ridiculous I’m not going back until you’re out of this hospital bed. I exchanged emails with my professors before we came here they understand. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she reassures her mother.

“Fine, but you’re on a plane the minute I’m back in the White House. Education is important, young lady. Now, Ruby what do you have for me,” Mary turns her attention toward her chief of staff.

“Director of the Secret Service, Agent Lance will be by shortly for a briefing on the young man they arrested early this morning,” Ruby says calmly.

“Do they know anything else?” David asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Just that this brotherhood group was not happy about the new gun control bill we just passed. It was the reason for this attack. I got a quick update from Agent Lance after the arrest,” Ruby says quickly. David looks like he’s about to burst. Mary and Emma share a look.

“Dad, come on we’re getting coffee,” Emma says practically dragging him out of the room.

“I just- I mean- how?” David sputters, “No, I’m going to get Agent Lance to take me to this boy. I’ll show him a thing or two.” Emma grabs his arm and pushes him into an empty room.

“You’ll do no such thing. I want him dead just as much as you do, but this isn’t how this is handled. He deserves proper justice, not trial by a family member. We’re all angry, but don’t lash out. Don’t let them get the best of you, that’s what they want,” Emma scolds him. He’s angry and has every right to be, but her mother needs to heal and he needs to be there with her. After a couple minutes he calms down.

“You’re right. I know all that, it’s just difficult. I feel useless,” he sighs.

“We all do,” she responds and pulls him into a hug. They break apart and leave the room. Outside Mary’s room Killian is waiting.

“What are you doing out here?” she asks.

“Agent Lance is here. Just giving them some privacy,” Killian explains. David heads into the room, giving the couple some privacy.

“Your mother tried to send you away,” Killian states.

“I know I can’t believe her. I was serious I am not leaving until she’s out here. My program can wait; My professors will understand,” Emma just shakes her head, frustrated.

“She just wants you to do well,” he says, “She seems to be recovering quickly they’ll send her home soon.” He pulls her into his arms and holds her.

They do release her mother three days later, but she doesn’t return to work for another two days. That’s what truly drives Mary crazy; being in the White House, but not being able to work. Finally her Vice President steps down and Mary Margaret Nolan is reenacted as President of the United States of America. Emma watches her ceremony from London only because her mother forced her and Killian back on his plane about two hours after being home from the hospital. Emma calls everyday just to check in on her mother. Emma just needs to know she’s okay.

[briangroth27]

Iron Fist Season 1 Review

I went into Iron Fist knowing next to nothing of the character: only his reputation as Luke Cage’s best friend/fellow Hero for Hire and his “zen surfer” portrayal on Ultimate Spider-man. Unfortunately, I didn’t leave the character’s first live action showcase, currently streaming on Netflix, a fan. It’s gotten a lot of bad reviews, and sadly I think they’re largely deserved. The show is low-stakes and repetitive from the get-go, never really has a grasp of who Danny (Finn Jones) is or what the main threat should be, and (though this doesn’t seem to be entirely their fault) boasts a mythology behind its central character that makes little to no sense.

Full spoilers…

First off, I don’t understand the Iron Fist mythology. Iron Fist is supposed to be a great warrior who guards the path to the mystical K’un-Lun (which only appears in our reality every 15 years), meaning he has to stay there. But he’s also the sworn enemy of The Hand…so how can he destroy them if he’s not supposed to leave his monastic Brigadoon? Was the plan to just wipe out any Hand who happened to try to take the village whenever the path appeared, hoping they’d never stop trying until their ranks had been completely destroyed? To the show’s credit, Danny does realize this contradiction…eleven episodes in (and even then, it comes off as an excuse for why he won’t go back rather than a mission-altering epiphany). It would’ve been a stronger character motivation had he left K’un-Lun to destroy The Hand to complete that portion of his duties instead of completely abandoning them, choosing a proactive approach rather than sitting and doing nothing. That’s another issue: since K’un-Lun only appears in our plane of existence every 15 years, their information is outdated, but even that doesn’t excuse the idea that The Hand are talked about as if they’re mythical enemies who haven’t existed for a very long time. Danny has no idea The Hand are currently active in modern-day New York when he gets there; who did he think he was training to fight all these years if he didn’t believe The Hand were still real? Why is the Iron Fist necessary to protect the gateway to a magical training camp that didn't even know its sworn enemy was still around? Is Danny Rand anything more than a mystical doorman? I don’t know if any of this is the case in the comics, but if it is, the show should’ve either updated it, better explained it, or used it to spin the characters into interesting directions.

K’un-Lun itself should’ve been much more explored. We got maybe five minutes of screentime spent there, all of it very vague and barren. There's not much context to anything Danny felt there because we barely even saw snippets of his stay; it's all secondhand for us. These were the 15 most transformative years of Danny’s life and we saw next to nothing. We never see him struggle (except for one random scene of the monks beating him as a child). We never see him as an outsider. What we did see was entirely unimpressive. I didn’t need the entire series to be about his training (nor would I want it to be), but I definitely needed a better idea of what it was like and how being there changed him (since we have no information about the kid he was before he went missing either). Maybe the show should’ve started off with the first two-three episodes detailing his training or the rules of magic in Danny’s world. Much like Dr. Strange, I wish they'd gone FAR weirder and more outlandish with the supernatural elements. A season later, I’m not even sure what's so great about K'un-Lun that makes them so much more important than the rest of the world. And who were the masters of the Iron Fist mysticism, who thought it unnecessary to teach Danny how to use his focused Chi to heal others, or even to recharge his powers? Even if his “training went a little sideways,” as he claims, shouldn’t recharging his abilities have been lesson #2?

My first impression of Danny Rand from the trailers was that he’d be yet another rich guy who got lost/traveled abroad and came back to save his city with new powers and/or skills. Having seen this from Green Arrow, Batman, Iron Man, and Dr. Strange, I wasn’t sure what new twists Iron Fist could bring to the table. Turns out, not many. Not every character has to reinvent the wheel—there are only so many origin story tropes—but they should all find some fresh angle. Iron Fist didn’t. He doesn’t seem to come home with a concrete goal at all, beyond convincing people he’s really Danny Rand. His attempt to get back into his family’s company feels half-hearted (unfortunately so, since I liked him best when he was insisting on better business practices and on using their resources to help people) and is quickly forgotten. It barely even feels like getting in is what he wants (he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to do there once he’s in); it’s just something to kill time. He later centers on trying to figure out who killed his parents, eventually giving us the season’s main villain, but even that felt completely routine; the only trope more well-trodden than dead parents inspiring heroes and guys coming back home with skills/talents is evil businessmen. I didn’t find Danny compelling, but the unfocused writing and direction may take some blame off Jones. They asked him to show several seemingly conflicting facets of Danny’s personality that never had a strong connective tissue (more on that in a bit). 

Rand was surrounded by controversy from the show’s first announcement: some saw him as a white savior figure who’d appropriated Asian culture; a relic of the 70s that didn’t belong in the modern day. Many argued Marvel should change his character to be Asian-American. Others said they should remain faithful to his Caucasian comic book appearance, claiming an Asian character who’s good at martial arts would be racist in and of itself. It seemed Marvel was damned either way. I don't necessarily mind Danny being white and an expert at martial arts—there's no reason someone from any background can't become an expert in any field with enough practice and training (assuming we're not looking at a story where the white guy is just automatically special and better for no reason beyond the idea that he naturally is; a magical chosen white savior)—and the way he talked about wanting to be Iron Fist more than anything and fighting against impossible odds to attain the title and responsibilities associated with it felt respectable and earned. However, the way he's better at every aspect of Colleen Wing’s life and culture (fight skills, speaking Mandarin, knowing where the best food is served, dojo etiquette, meditation and Tai Chi techniques, capturing the attention of students (until he’s too violent), etc.) than she is does grate on me and crosses the line. His apology for correcting Colleen after informing her about challenging a dojo’s master also came off as condescending. Nothing said K’un-Lun culture had to be exactly hers—not every Asian culture is the same, obviously, especially not made-up mystical ones—but the show chose to have them correlate almost exactly, and it’s in his complete domination of her culture that he comes off as appropriating it. Iron Fist had a golden opportunity by going with Danny’s comic book whiteness to discuss cultural appropriation—what it is and isn’t, why it’s wrong, etc.—in the same way that Daredevil did gentrification, Jessica Jones did sexism and misogyny, and Luke Cage did racism. Danny's talk about feeling empty and thinking the Iron Fist would solve all his problems could’ve been a perfect metaphor for cultural appropriation if the show were at all interested in exploring that. But it isn’t. Had they gone with an Asian-American actor instead, Danny fighting so hard to claim the Iron Fist title could’ve been a great parallel to an Asian-American kid (who would already feel out of place in both American and Asian culture, by the way) fighting to reclaim his culture, as Lewis Tan (a potential Danny Rand) said. It was also frustrating that, even though Danny says he worked hard and earned the Iron Fist mantle, the show teases out an idea that he is some mystical Chosen One who was meant to be Iron Fist all along. That plays even further into the White Savior trope, and that’s not something I’m down to explore in future seasons.

One of the most common arguments I read about why Danny “had to be white” was that he had to feel like an outsider in the Asian-cultured K’un-Lun. If that’s an essential part of Danny’s background, the show completely dropped the ball. It feels like they paid lip service at most to Danny feeling like a fish out of water in both K'un L'un and New York. He commented on being called an outsider back in his mystical land and said there were some unhappy memories, but also mentioned a best friend and fun times sneaking wine. Episode 6 reveals that he might actually be a mighty prophesied savior and was trained to believe as such...some outsider. It does seem like the requirements of being Iron Fist are colder than I’d anticipated, but assuming the beatings he received as a child were part of his training (and we have no reason to think they weren’t), that seems like the rigors everyone else was going through too, not something specifically aimed at him because he was white. And there’s no “Man out of Time” element to his journey back to New York after 15 years; the only times he feels out of place amount to people questioning his lack of footwear, him being friendly with the homeless, not sleeping in a bed, and his lack of "business acumen"…which is really just him having the most basic compassion about clean emissions and the price of pharmaceuticals. He doesn't seem to struggle to connect with anyone he really wants to, unless the other party has dubious interests (the Meachums, mainly) and are intentionally working against him or have the common sense not to invite total strangers into their lives after being semi-stalked by them (Colleen). Nothing about his situation feels very different from any other superhero, much less any other rich guy who returns home with powers/tech to be a hero.

Danny's clear PTSD that he ignored to focus on his training feels like something that could’ve been explored more to add dimension to his character. His fear of flying and near-freakout during turbulence (that’s how his parents died) was a great eample of this, but it was never explored beyond his fits. Along the lines of another trope—the dead parents—why is it necessary that Danny's folks be murdered? Batman’s parents’ murders made him vow not to let that happen to anyone else. Uncle Ben was killed to show Spider-man he could and should be doing more to help people with his powers. What does Danny get out of the fact that his parents were murdered? Wouldn't a random accident providing no enemy to take out his frustrations on be a bigger challenge for his survivor's guilt and his (completely inadequate) attempts to re-center himself? Furthermore, his childlike sensibility upon returning to New York would’ve played better had it been the result of his training to suppress his emotions, rather than just existing completely independent of his PTSD, as if one or the other state of his being didn’t exist at various times. The other problem is we don’t really ever see his training work. It appears the best he can manage is seizure-esque outbursts of shouting and hitting things when he gets overwhelmed. These fits seem like they’re trying to show us a character who could break but for the sake of his training, but they only come off as making it seem like he’s wasted the last 15 years. Along those same lines, he says he took a vow of celibacy, but only a few episodes later sleeps with Colleen. Challenging his resolve, vows, and training would’ve been one thing, but it doesn't feel like he trained for 15 years to be the best anything (despite showing up Colleen at nearly every turn), much less a mystical warrior who's supposed to be in total control of his emotions (he is absolutely not). The show could’ve mined that for an interesting character development—and it almost does, with Claire calling out how unhealthy suppressing his emotions is—but Danny’s answer is to go back to K’un-Lun for even more training at the end of the season (completely reversing his epiphany from the final battle). Ultimately, Danny doesn't feel like he has an arc at all because he's just flitting from one situation to the next as the plot demands. It’s as if they regressed him from where he should’ve been at the start for the sake of drama to watch him kinda-sorta regain all of his skill again, only to have him set off for even more training at the end. He has the nuts and bolts of a complex personality, but they aren’t assembled or explored at all.

The series’ best attributes are without a doubt Claire Temple (Rosario Dawson), Colleen Wing (Jessica Henwick), and Madame Gao (Wai Ching Ho). Carrie Ann Moss is another very strong Netflix-verse asset, though she doesn’t get as much screentime as the others. I'm glad Claire's here to talk sense into these heroes (she’s the wisest person on these Netfilx shows). I love her as a helper to heroes and I’m glad she’s adding self-defense to her skills (her insisting on going to collect Gao was great!). Claire's talks with Danny about dealing with his issues and letting his emotions out instead of running back to K'un-Lun were really solid. Dawson’s no-nonsense presence and sarcasm ground and humanize these shows so well I don’t know why they’re so afraid to go more fantastical. Galactus could show up and she’d still make it feel like we were tethered to the real world. And she got to say “Sweet Christmas,” which was great! Madame Gao was still the stoic and imposing Hand operative from Daredevil. I’ll always be glad to have her reappear. Since she’s apparently been around since the 17th century, it seems there are many more tales to tell about her!

Colleen was the best new addition to the Netflix-verse and I liked her a lot! Of the characters on the show, she’s the one I want to read more about in the comics. Her struggle with adhering to the Bushido code and keeping her students invested in training and off the streets was far more interesting than Danny stumbling his way through pretrial proceedings that ultimately went nowhere and his other issues. The things she was up against felt real—right down to just paying the rent—and Henwick brought a sense that Colleen really was tested by the forces against her, like with her comments about issues with control in the fight club. Danny’s approach to “dealing” with frustrations served to throw Colleen’s into a much more sympathetic light too. While his dating style—bringing a restaurant to her—felt just like any other billionaire, Danny being impressed with her sword and nunchuck skills—and her glee at showing him she was his equal for once—was cute. I didn’t need them to be together, but I was fine with their relationship. When she was poisoned, I was more concerned about Colleen dying than I was about anyone else at any point on the show, even though I figured she probably wouldn’t die. I absolutely did not see the reveal that she was proudly a member of The Hand coming! That was the one place the show truly shocked me—the one point where it took the more interesting option—and I loved it. I didn’t understand why a martial arts instructor would be training her students to hunt people on the streets, but then it all made sense. Colleen struggling to justify her Hand allegiance and having a good argument that certain segments do help people was good, solid stuff. Claire's retort that they should've chosen another name was perfect...I've had the same thought about SHIELD after they were outted as half-Hydra. It didn’t quite make sense that she wouldn’t know more about the Iron Fist if she were a member of The Hand, but I suppose she could’ve been playing dumb with Danny. I also thought her turn from true believer to betrayer was a little quick, but The Hand attacking Danny was a justifiable motivator and a strong reason to believe him. I’m glad we didn’t get anyone trying to convince her that Danny had struck first. I also felt sorry for her when she realized The Hand would kill her for her doubts, which would’ve been a great parallel to Danny's doubts in the Iron Fist's mission had his side been explored more. Although, him telling her that he knows what it's like to believe in something only to have it pulled away falls totally flat when he's the one who left K'un-Lun.

Iron Fist’s writing definitely has some holes (what psychiatric hospital would let their completely unknown new patient wander around unsupervised with a "tour guide" who was caught trying to convince him to kill himself???), but the biggest problem is that it’s nothing new or inventive. The dialogue isn’t the most original and the show’s pacing is way off. This has been a problem with previous Netflix shows too—I really wish they’d be a little less serialized instead of trying to be 13-hour movies with a single plot—but it was especially apparent here. Two episodes in, Danny was still mostly walking around going “I’m Danny Rand. No, really,” someone disbelieves him, and then he goes on to the next person to start it all over again. There’s also a recurring thing where everyone comments on Danny’s lack of shoes like it’s the funniest running gag ever (it’s not); as if that’s the only thing weird about this guy. There’s also a bit in episode two where Danny’s thought insane because he has a stolen passport with a different name on it, but Danny had no reason to believe his company and his best friends Joy and Ward Meachum (Jessica Stroup and Tom Pelphrey) are no longer friendly, so why didn’t he just call his company? Why all the subterfuge? The later reveal that he knows Jeri Hogarth (Carrie Ann Moss) and that she’s gung-ho about helping him confirms he could’ve just gotten her to bend the rules and let him in the country, making those early plot developments pointless. Even better, why not use his super-ninja skills to sneak in? Unnecessary speed-bumps like these slowed the plot down right off the bat and it never really recovers, thanks to wishy-washy writing around its lead character.

That the Netflix shows keep referring to the Avengers Chitauri invasion as "The Incident" and largely ignoring it has gotten annoying (at least Daredevil used it to regress Hell’s Kitchen and Luke Cage featured bootleg video of it as a plot point). I do not understand the desire to keep halfway pretending that they’re in some separate, mostly grounded universe; they are not. They don't need to talk about it as incessantly as SHIELD did in season 1, but coyly vague references draw more attention to the lack of Avengers than the simple fact that these heroes don't world-savers’ help does. On a show like this with magic, this is especially apparent. I’m not sure why Clarie wouldn’t think dragons might be real in this world. I mean, sure, just because one crazy thing is real doesn't mean they all are, but given everything that's happened to New York alone (not to mention the existence of Thor), a little less skepticism would be believable. Even more baffling, why doesn't Claire call Daredevil (or even refer to him by his superhero name)? He might be absolutely helpful in fighting the Hand! Just use an excuse that he’s out of town or something if they don’t want to bring Matt in.

This unwillingness to venture into a bigger universe extends to the opponents Danny faces. Madame Gao and The Hand are great villains, but The Hand aren't anything like what they were in Daredevil and don't come off as a threat here at all. They seem decidedly toned down and it feels like they could’ve been any generic mercenaries. Where are the badass, creepy, somewhat undead ninjas Daredevil fought? If you're going to start your show with Danny as a superhero (and for all intents and purposes, he was—this is 15 years into his training!), you have to give him opponents who are more threatening than random gangsters (Luke Cage had this issue too) and martial arts-trained street kids. If the street kids are supposed to undergo some kind of process to become the heartbeat-less assassins of Daredevil, where is that happening? And what happened to them after Danny busted out of their training compound? The Hand’s leader, Bakuto (Ramon Rodriguez) was just an OK villain, which wasn’t enough on a season this long when he was supposed to be second only to Meachum in terms of villainy (according to the season’s structure, at least). He seemed to have no real plan beyond the continued existence of the Hand via Rand Corp’s assets, making him seem pretty weak. Lewis Tan's drunken guard had more character and charisma than 90% of the characters on this show and also provided the best fight of the series up to episode 8. If they aren’t going to go creepy, they at least need to go distinct. The karaoke-loving assassin from episode 6 felt a little cliché, but at least he and the other three Hand champions Danny faced had personalities and unique fighting styles. Across the board on Netflix series, I want more powered supervillains and far fewer gangsters and businessmen. I don’t know who Danny has in his Rogues Gallery, but he’s gotta have a few mystical enemies he could’ve fought here, if for no other reason than to vary the fights and Danny’s tactics therein. On that note, Danny is the third Defender whose power is super strength. Obviously superheroes are more than their powers, but I’d like to see more variation of them (a super-punch is not that impressive anymore).

Davos (Sacha Dhawan), Danny’s former best friend in K’un-Lun, was another good opponent, and I would’ve liked his arc expanded a lot. There was a lot that could’ve been mined from his well-crafted belief that Danny wasn’t the right choice for the Iron Fist, which never came off as petty jealousy to me. He seemed legitimately hurt that Danny abandoned his duties and sided with a member of the Hand. The one area where Danny’s seeming failure in most of his training worked perfectly was in Davos’ assessment of him; Danny being so unbalanced fueled and justified Davos’ hate quite effectively. I absolutely believe Davos should’ve been the primary antagonist, if not secondary only to The Hand. Imagine how much more complex the show would’ve been had Danny left to defeat The Hand, with Davos following him to stand up for (and represent K’un-Lun and its teachings) and bring him back from the start. Davos chasing Danny for leaving his duties would’ve completed the parallel to Colleen being chased by The Hand for doubting their mission too.

The season’s actual main antagonists, the Meachums, were not compelling to me at all. Danny’s attempts to save Ward and Joy from themselves seemed to fall rapidly to the wayside as the siblings took turns going morally black before bouncing back to gray, then back again, over the course of the season. I understood their desire to keep the company they’d built and didn’t really harbor them any ill will over it—again, Danny never seemed to truly want it—but I never really cared about who controlled it. Ward’s drug problem didn’t interest me at all, nor did Harold’s (David Wenham) attempts to get the company back from his children and The Hand. I didn’t see Ward killing Harold or Harold’s resurrection coming, but I suppose I should’ve, given Nobu’s repeated resurrections on Daredevil. I wasn’t a fan of Harold’s confused undead state and apparently he’ll start becoming a crazed murderer, so a member of the Daredevil cast has that to look forward to… Harold was at least a little interesting to me when it seemed like he really was on Danny’s side, but the reveal of his true evil intentions fell flat because nothing about him stood out in the first place. I didn’t guess that he was behind the Rands’ murders, but it also didn’t shock me. That Harold’s entire goal was to be running Rand (he’s immortal and that’s all he wants? Really?) was so small compared to everything else going on that he felt like a minor villain who should’ve been dealt with by mid-season if not sooner. By no means did he deserve to be the embodiment of Danny’s cave dragon, which felt entirely anticlimactic. I don’t think my lack of interest in the Meachums was the fault of any of these three actors; they were just stuck in a mediocre plot that carried on far longer than it should have.

Speaking of the fights, outside of Bakuto vs. Colleen and Davos vs. Danny (and the massive battle leading into them), none of them have any emotional component to them. Maybe that’s just because most of them involve thugs, but even Danny vs. Harold—the climactic battle of the season—left me cold and just waiting for it to end. If the show doesn’t get me invested in the conflicts between characters, the fights will feel empty. Even though Harold killed Danny’s parents, I wasn’t feeling it. The choreography to Danny’s fights wasn’t the most polished either, but this wasn’t Jones’ fault, as he apparently only had 15 minutes of training before each fight was filmed.

I wish they’d done what the other Netflix shows have done: showcase the hero’s city in the opening credits to make it as much a character as anything else. Here, the credits only showed a CGI Danny doing kung-fu. They should’ve shown off K’un-Lun and juxtaposed it with New York City. The score also felt repetitive.

I didn’t want this to be disappointing (why would anyone want anything they’re watching to be bad?), but unfortunately it was. There are kernels of a good, maybe even great, show here (Colleen, Claire, Gao, Davos), but Danny’s character arc, the villain aspects, and the rest of the show never coalesce around them. It almost always takes the least interesting option, so it comes off as bland and repetitive. If Danny’s character can be redeemed in Defenders, then cool, but it will take a great deal of boldness and precise direction/writing/acting choices to right this ship.