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#actually I’ve thought of the something something.
f0point5 · 2 days
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I think I have sent this same request some time ago but I still would like you to write something about Emilia and Max hanging out with Victoria’s children and maybe thinking about their own future kids. But really anything with Max and Emilia would be great!
I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, but tumblr eats asks sometimes 🤷‍♀️ but it’s too cute so here you go! I am keeping these short but I hope you still enjoy it!
✨Set during summer break 2024✨
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I’m having his baby (…) no, I’m not
You take a sip of your rosé as Victoria comes to stand beside you. You’re lurking in the doorway of the lounge, watching Max sitting on the couch with his baby niece in his arms. He’s bobbing her in a gentle motion, his hands looking huge around her tiny, swaddled body.
“God, I remember when we used to say our kids would get married,” Vic says beside you, and you laugh.
You did say that. As little kids you would wish to be sisters, and somehow the only way you could think to make that happen would be for your children to marry each other. Like in that Flintstones movie you used to love. You’d draw pictures of the two of you sitting on the porch of a large house, watching your children get married.
Now you wonder if your mums thought the same, during those summers in Italy, as they watched you all play. They swear now that they did, that the mother’s intuition told them you and Max were tied together by some invisible chord that chafed on both your wrists. “A mother always knows,” Sophie said to you when she saw you last, “you will know, too”.
“And now that would be illegal and dangerous for our grandkids,” you say, shaking your head. “Crazy,”
“I like it better this way,” Victoria says, putting her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a hug.
“Me, too,” you agree, your eyes fixed on Max and Hailey. He’s whispering to her in Dutch, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she yawns in his face, which only makes him smile. He’s utterly mesmerised by her. And you’re mesmerised by him.
I swear I can actually feel my ovaries right now.
“He’s so good with kids,” Vic says. “Even with Jaye I remember he was so gentle,”
“Yeah,” you agree, only half hearing her as you take another sip.
“Gives you baby fever, huh?”
You choke on your wine. Was that Victoria or your subconscious talking?
Vic, are you in here? No, of course she’s not in here. She’s just being nosey. Act natural.
“Are you okay?” Max asks from the couch. You look over at him as you wipe your mouth, coughing once as you nod. Even as he looks at you in concern, he never stops the gentle bouncing motion of the baby in his arms.
You go to answer, but Vic beats you to it, blunt as ever. “I was just saying, you will be having one of your own soon, yeah?” She smiles, nodding at Hailey.
If Max is panicking as much as you, he doesn’t show it, just shrugging. “I mean, ye-“ You can feel your eyes widen, and he stops when he sees your face. He tries again. “May-“ he frowns at you, silently begging for help. “No?” You nod gently, and Max turns to Victoria. “No.”
She looks at you in mild disbelief. “No?”
“No,” you emphasise to both Verstappens.
You love them dearly but genetics are a crazy thing - they both share a chronic disregard for timing. They want it all, and they want it now, in any order, all order be damned.
“You’re not getting any younger,” Victoria says, nudging you.
“That is just rude,” you tell her, and she just smiles unapologetically.
“Oh, come on,” she implores, reaching up to wind her finger around a lock of your hair, “a little baby with Max’s eyes and your hair?”
“And both of our tempers,” you say with a chuckle. “Can you imagine that? Besides, we can barely make cereal, and you want us to raise a baby?”
You look at Max for support, but he’s no longer paying attention. He’s looking down at his niece like he’s holding water.
Maybe a baby can live on cereal, if her dad looks at her like that.
“I’m going to go put Hailey down for her nap,” Vic says, jerking you from your thoughts.
She goes over to take a sleepy Hailey from Max’s arms, and he looks loathe to let her go. She looks so much bigger when held by her mother, and her so much more fragile.
“When I get back, we can start on dinner. I’m going to make cereal,” Vic teases in a whisper, winking at you as she passes.
Max snorts with laughter, and you shoot Vic a glare as she starts to hum, shuffling her way out of the lounge towards the bedroom.
You join Max on the couch, falling onto it beside him with a heavy sigh.
“So glad I’m an only child,” you say, rolling your eyes. When Max doesn’t respond, you glance over at him to find him staring at his hands. You nudge him gently. “What?”
“You do,” he starts, leaning back as he turns to you. “Want kids, someday, don’t you?With me. I mean…you don’t think I’ll be, like…”
“No,” you answer quickly, when you understand what he’s getting at.
You silently curse yourself for that joke about tempers. For ever making him think that’s something you worry about. You know there’s a heaviness in Max, in both of you. You know that he is so much more than his father’s son. But you also know that the weight on his shoulders will keep him crooked until he can see that for himself. You hope knowing you see it will be enough for now.
“I want your baby, Max. Someday. There’s no one else I would ever do this with besides you and not just because I love you, but because I know you’ll be an amazing dad,” you tell him honestly, and even that small platitude seems to relax his shoulders. “But can we at least get to one year of baby making activities before we start painting a nursery?”
Max nods, letting out a husk of a laugh. “I’m shit at painting anyway,” he says, looking at you from under those eyelashes that you secretly envy.
Maybe she’ll inherit those, too.
“Free practice?” You offer with a smirk, holding your hand for his.
Max looks at your outstretched palm for a moment before taking your hand in his. “Free practice,” he agrees, using his grip on your hand to pull you forward so that your chest is pressed against his. “I’m looking forward to FP2 later,”
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tkwrites · 3 days
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Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC
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gif from gabelandeskog
Title: Can I Come See You?
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts
Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 
Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.
Word count: 4,600
Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 
Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  
If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.
Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?
Can I come see you? 
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 
Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.
There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 
It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.
It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.
Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 
Can I come see you? 
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  
He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 
Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 
Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.
He asked for her address. 
She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 
My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 
He reacted with a thumbs up. 
Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 
When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 
“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 
Her heart fluttered.
“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 
Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 
They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 
“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 
Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 
“And this is Jane.” 
She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.
Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 
Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 
Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. Leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch, she said, “tough break tonight.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. 
“Here, we can go in my room.” 
When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 
He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 
Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 
She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  
“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.
His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?
“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.
“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 
She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 
Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 
Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  
Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 
She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 
“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 
Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 
Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 
He shook his head.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.
Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 
“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”
Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 
“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.
Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  
“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 
As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 
He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”
Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 
A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 
“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 
Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.
“Can you just talk?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”
“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 
He let out a low whistle. 
“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”
He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 
“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”
“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”
“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”
A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.
“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”
“Really?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”
“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 
He hmm’d.
Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.
“How did you meet them?” 
“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 
“Just like that?” 
“I guess?”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“What?” 
“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”
“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”
He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 
They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.
“Do you need anything?” she asked. 
“Hmm?” 
“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 
“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 
As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale. I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 
“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 
She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 
“That sounds nice.”
“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 
“Almond, please.” 
“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 
Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 
“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 
She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.
She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 
“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 
“You’re sure?” 
“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 
“Okay.” 
As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.
Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 
Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 
Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 
He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 
She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.
“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 
“Yeah.”
Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 
“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 
“For what?” 
“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 
“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.
He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 
His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 
“I really like you, Sarah.” 
“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 
Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 
When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.
This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 
She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.
The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.
Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 
A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.
 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 
He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”
When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 
Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 
“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”
“Mini sticks?”
“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”
“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 
A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 
She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 
“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”
She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 
“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 
“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 
Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 
An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 
“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 
“That’s just…really?” 
He nodded.
“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 
“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 
The kettle whistled. 
As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 
A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 
As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 
“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 
“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 
“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 
He shrugged. 
The machine whirred to life.
“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 
When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 
“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 
“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 
Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 
Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 
“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”
“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”
She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”
He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”
“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”
“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.
Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”
While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 
Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”
Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”
Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 
“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 
He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 
Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 
Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 
Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.
“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 
“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 
Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”
“And it took you two trips to do it?” 
“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 
“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 
“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”
“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”
“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 
“You too?” 
“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”
“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 
“Why were you touching his nose?” 
“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”
Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 
Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”
All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 
“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 
“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”
“Will you just fuck him already?” 
Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”
“I think I knew that from the start.”
“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 
“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”
“Yes you will.” 
“No. I won't.” 
“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”
“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 
“That’s why you love me.”
Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
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spencerxalvez · 3 days
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spencer reid x fem!reader microfic; 600 words; fluff, athletic reader, slice of life
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His chest heaves; every breath tears from his lungs in soft, desperate pants for air. There’s a thin sheen of warm sweat that’s forming over his body: at his hairline, catching in his curls; in the crevices of soft skin at his knees and elbows; along the dip at the center of his back, dripping over his spine. The muscles in his legs tremble delicately, quivering with exertion and threatening to give out.
But there’s her.
He closes his eyes briefly and the image of her remains— all unexpected strength in lithe muscles; soft skin; breath that comes easy and a voice that drifts like summer.
“Need to—” he gasps.
He can tell she’s watching him as he stops moving and the world tilts around him.
“What do you need, Spence?” she asks.
He puts his hands on his knees and looks up into the sunlight, squinting at her. The world rights itself; she’s standing at the center of the path, her hands on her hips and her ponytail caught in the breeze that chills the sweat on his back and makes him shiver unpleasantly. She’s dressed in a matching athletic set and her favorite worn-in running shoes, the hem of the top in line with her just-visible abdominal muscles.
She’s smiling at him, barely out of breath at all.
“Water?” she asks, too sweetly. Spencer swallows hard and shakes his head; he sort of thinks if he tries to drink right now, he might throw up. Instead, he moves toward the grass and tumbles onto it. He hates sitting on the ground, but at the moment anything is preferable to being on his legs. She laughs as he collapses to the earth, and gamely takes a seat next to him.
“How do you do this every day?” he groans eventually.
“I don’t run every day,” she answers reasonably. “Sometimes I take barre.”
Spencer does his best to glare at her. It’s hard, when she’s smiling like that.
“I might be dying,” Spencer croaks, flopping down onto his back and flinging his arm over his eyes.
“You know,” she says thoughtfully, “when I asked you to go running with me, I thought you’d be a little more in shape.”
Spencer peers out at her from beneath his arm, incredulous.
“What ever gave you that impression?” he asks.
She shrugs. “You’re an FBI agent,” she says. “Don’t you have like, physical mandates and stuff?”
Spencer covers his eyes again. “I’ve been avoiding them every year since the one time that Morgan tried to help Garcia and I train,” he says.
“Spencer Reid,” she gasps. “Are you admitting to being a cheater? Deceiving the Federal Bureau of Investigation? In broad daylight?”
“Stop,” Spencer groans, half-laughing. “Actually, there’s only a twelve-point minimum score required to pass the FBI’s physical fitness test. Mathematically, I can afford to score only—”
She has been running for a mile. Miraculously, when she kisses him, she still tastes like the strawberry jam she ate in her kitchen this morning.
When she pulls away, she’s smiling.
“We should do this more often,” she says. “So that maybe you can actually pass it next time. Oh, and you should definitely try something like—”
This time, it’s his kiss that cuts her off. She smiles into it like she’d wanted him to do it all along, and when they pull apart she’s still beaming.
“Race you,” she says.
And then she’s gone. And Spencer— well, like always, Spencer follows.
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Text
Last, Last Time
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~7.3k
TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.
a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!
Spencer Masterlist
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“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 
“Y/n…”
“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”
The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 
“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 
“Wait for the potential of us?” 
Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.
“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 
“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”
“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”
“I’m sorry.”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 
Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 
“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 
“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 
The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.
“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 
The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 
“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 
Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 
Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 
About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 
He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 
And it stuck. 
Now? It stung. 
All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.
“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 
“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 
Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 
You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 
You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 
Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 
Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 
You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—
Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 
Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 
Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—
The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 
This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 
You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 
Emily Prentiss
______________________________________________________________
The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 
Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”
The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 
Spencer just stared at the photo. 
Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”
He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”
“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”
______________________________________________________________
Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 
You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“
“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 
Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 
“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 
“What?” 
“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 
“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 
Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 
You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 
Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 
You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 
It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 
You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 
As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 
Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 
Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 
“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 
“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.
“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.
“Let’s head inside?” 
The three of you moved inside. 
Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 
As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 
“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 
That bitch. 
______________________________________________________________
“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 
Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”
“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”
Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”
Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.
“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”
Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”
“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”
Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”
His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 
And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.
______________________________________________________________
Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 
They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 
“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 
Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 
Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 
She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”
“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 
Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 
“What is the last thing you know about her?” 
You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 
They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 
“What? What happened?” 
“Y/n..”
“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 
Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—
“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”
“We didn’t think you’d–”��
“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 
Both of them went silent. 
“So is he out?” 
They nodded slowly, silently. 
“How long was he in there.”
Nothing. 
“I asked. How. Long.”
Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 
“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 
Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 
“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 
“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 
Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 
They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 
You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 
Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.
“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.
At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 
______________________________________________________________
“Victimology is off.”
“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 
“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 
Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 
Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 
“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 
Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.
While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 
Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 
Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 
“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 
______________________________________________________________
After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 
Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.
There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 
Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 
Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 
“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”
You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 
“She took your father and sister.” 
Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 
His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 
“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 
“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 
You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 
Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 
The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 
It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 
The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 
“Don’t even start.” 
He shrugged and stayed silent. 
Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 
Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 
You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 
Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 
Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 
______________________________________________________________
“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”
Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “
“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 
“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 
Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 
“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 
“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 
“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 
Emily sighed in agreement. 
Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 
Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 
Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 
JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.
Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”
“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”
Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”
Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 
______________________________________________________________
Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 
And there he was. 
This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 
And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 
The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 
After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 
It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 
You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 
His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 
You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…
“What are you doing here?” 
You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 
Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 
“You know why I’m here.” 
Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 
Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 
Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 
She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 
You shook your head. “No.”
Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.
“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”
Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 
“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”
Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”
You scoffed. “What does that mean?”
Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 
“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 
Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 
You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 
Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 
Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 
“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 
Spencer spoke up. “With you?”
“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 
“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 
“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 
Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”
Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”
Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 
You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.
Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”
Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 
“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 
“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 
“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 
“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 
Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”
“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 
“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.
“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 
Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”
Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 
Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”
Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 
Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 
“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”
Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 
“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 
“That doesn't mean I-I would…”
Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”
Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 
After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 
It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 
Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 
Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”
You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”
Spencer just looked over at you. 
Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 
Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”
And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 
Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 
You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 
“Stop.”
Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 
You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”
That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 
Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 
“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”
You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 
“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”
You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”
She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”
“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 
Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”
“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”
“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”
You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”
Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 
“Last year.” 
“Was he good in bed?” 
Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 
Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”
“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”
There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 
Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 
You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  
“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 
“ I planned and I... I waited.”
Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “
“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”
Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."
You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 
Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”
Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”
“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 
Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 
Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 
“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 
The phone in your hand buzzed.
“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 
Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 
She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 
Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 
______________________________________________________________
The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 
“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 
Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”
“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”
Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 
“Would you have written me back?” 
When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 
“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 
______________________________________________________________
The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 
Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 
He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.
You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 
Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 
“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”
She nodded at him and walked away. 
Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 
“I should explain all of this.” 
Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 
You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 
He just nodded, staring at you really. 
You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 
“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 
Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 
Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 
“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 
Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 
He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 
“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 
Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 
You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 
Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”
“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 
You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 
She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 
He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 
Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 
You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 
You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 
As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 
Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 
It was Spencer who spoke first. 
“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 
You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 
“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 
The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 
It’s not the way it used to be. 
“I need to go Spencer.” 
He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 
You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 
“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 
“Y/n…”
You took another step away from him and shook your head. 
“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 
You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 
“Y/n please.” 
“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 
Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 
Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 
You didn’t. 
His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 
But it had to end. 
You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 
Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 
Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 
You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 
The doors shut. 
You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 
Your heart was aching, burning. 
But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 
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idontevenknowwhatt · 2 days
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Surprise
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Summary: Y/n has been keeping a secret from Emily and hasn’t had the opportunity to tell her wife. The secret is revealed not in the way you had hoped but sometimes the unexpected can be perfect.
Warnings: Talks about miscarriages, fertility struggles and pregnancy in general. Small allusion to smut but no actual smut.
Word Count: 1721
A/N: Hello again, it’s been a bit since I’ve posted anything but this is my first Emily Prentiss x reader. This is set when Emily is Unit Chief and won’t follow any specific episode. I hope you all enjoy it :))
—--------------------------------------------
You loved your wife. More than anything else in the world. But since becoming the BAU’s Unit Chief a couple months ago she was a lot busier. Whether it was paperwork or meetings, she had a lot on her plate.
You weren’t mad or upset, if anything you were incredibly proud. But you still missed your wife, even though you worked with her everyday.
You had both adjusted pretty quickly to her new workload and always made sure to spend with one another as much as possible. But this week had been particularly bad. She would mostly be out of the house before you even woke up or leaving as you started to get ready. Then she’d be in her office hours after the team went home.
You knew it was just going to be one of those weeks and you just had be there to support you wife if she needed anything.
You’d been feeling sick all week and at first you had put it down to something you’d ate. But as the week went on, so did the nausea and the body aches.
If it had been a normal week Emily would have noticed immediately. But with how busy she was, she really only saw you when you were in bed or in passing at work.
You hadn’t thought much else about the sickness you had been feeling until yesterday morning. Emily had just left the house when you got up. As you walked towards the kitchen the smell of coffee had set you off and caused you to sprint into the bathroom and empty the contents of your stomach.
That’s when it hit you. You had wrapped a case the week before in Idaho and hadn’t even noticed that your period was late. And not just a little, by almost 2 months. It all started to make sense.
You and Emily have been married for four years and decided that you were both ready to expand your family. You’d both picked out a sperm donor that had similar looks to Emily and had been trying for a baby for months now.
You were lucky to have a positive test come back fairly fast and Emily was ecstatic. The idea of you growing her child inside you made her so happy.
So when you had a doctors appointment to confirm everything, you were both heartbroken to find out that it was a false positive.
That night you had sobbed in Emily’s arms while she too cried and held you tightly to her chest, whispering reassuring words into your ear. You knew that it was only the first try and that it was unlikely to happen anyway. But it still hurt, you were so close.
Since then you had tried multiple times but the test kept coming back negative. It was soul destroying to both of you. You had blamed yourself and thought that there was something wrong with your body. Emily made sure to reassure you that it wasn’t but it was still hard.
So you tried not to get too excited while waiting for the pregnancy tests that sat on the counter. The happiness that flooded your body when all three came up positive was overwhelming and the tears started running.
But there’s was still something in the back of your mind that told you that it wasn’t real and it was just more false positives.
Luckily you didn’t start until 10am and had plenty of time to book a last minute blood test. The joy you felt when it confirmed what you and Emily had been hoping for was one of the greatest feelings.
Now you just had to figure out the best way to tell your wife. As it was now Friday and finally the end of the week, you thought that it was the perfect night to tell her. And frankly you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.
You had sneaked out and bought a cute little onesie and planned on leaving it on your bed with the positive pregnancy tests. It was a simple idea but that’s all you wanted.
You were barely able to focus on your work all day and swore the day couldn’t have gone any slower. As the team slowly started filtering out and wishing you a good weekend you started to get anxious.
Emily was still in her office doing paperwork and was so focused she didn’t even realise the team had left.
Making your way up to her office you knocked and slipped in without waiting for an answer. Emily’s head shot up ready to reprimand someone for entering her office without permission. But the moment her eyes me yours her entire face softened.
“Hey baby” she said as you made your way around her desk to stand in front of her. “Everything okay?”
“Yea, I just miss my wife” you smiled leaning down to peck her lips.
Emily smiled into the kiss and you could feel tension start to leave her body at the small contact.
“Well I miss you more” she pulled you down to straddle her lap. Her arms snake around your waist pulling you closer and her hands start to rub soothing circles on your lower back. Instinctively your arms found there way around her neck and you fingers gently played with the hair at the back of her neck.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been home much this week.”
“It’s okay” you cut in before she can apologise any more. “I get it, you’ve got a job to do and not every week is like this week. It will get better. Plus I know you’ll make it up to me later”
She sees the smirk on your face and her hands move to squeeze your hips.
“Oh I promise I will, you can count on it” she smirks back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m pretty much done here if you’re ready to head home?”
“That sounds amazing” you smile tightly getting a rush of nerves at the thought of the onesie laying on your bed at home.
“Hey, you okay baby?” Emily of course notices your body language change immediately. Concern laces her face and her brows furrow. “Did something happen?”
“No of course not” your too quick to reassure her. “Well, sort of but nothing for you to worry about”
You really should have just left the last part off but you’re practically bursting wanting to tell her.
“What do you mean? Did someone say something to you?”
“Babe, no one said anything”
“Well something happened, I’m not gonna stop worrying until you tell me what it is” her hand moves to caress your cheek and you can’t help but lean into her touch. God she was your weakness. “Talk to me baby”
“Em…”
“Is this about my workload, cause I meant what I said. I’m sorry about this week, I just-”
“Emily, it’s not about this week. I told you I get it”
“Well then what is it? I can tell somethings off”
“Em it’s about us”
“The two of us?” Her face is full of confusion which quickly turns to concern for your relationship.
“The three of us” you place her hand on top of your stomach and cover it with your own. “I’m pregnant baby”
“You’re pregnant?” You swear you can feel her heart stop for a brief moment.
“I’m pregnant” you confirm tears forming in your eyes.
For a moment you’re unsure of her reaction, she just sits there stunned. It definitely wasn’t the news she was expecting.
Before you can think much more about it here lips are on yours as she gives you a loving and passionate kiss. She pulls your body impossibly closer as tears start to stream down her face.
She pulls back to look at you, her hand and yours still resting against your stomach.
“I love you so much” she kisses you again.
“I love you too”
“When did you find out? Please tell me you haven’t been holding out on me for too long because of work”
“I only found out yesterday morning, I was feeling sick all week but I didn’t think much of it” her smile never disappears as you talk. “I didn’t even realise I was late until yesterday too. So I took a bunch of tests and they all came back positive.”
“And they’re not-”
“No” you interrupt her before any more doubt can flood her mind. “I got a last minute blood test yesterday too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first but I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it was another false positive”
“Oh honey, you could have told me anyway” her face softens. “We’re in this together, remember?”
“I know, I just wanted it to be perfect when I told you” you gesture with your hand “this is not the way I planned on telling you. There’s a onesie sitting on our bed at home”
“This was perfect” she reassures you leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.
“I’m almost seven weeks” you see her smile grow. “You know I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet, my boobs are already getting bigger.”
Her eyes flick down to your breasts and her lips twitch into a smirk.
“You know considering how much you love to touch them” you giggle.
“Well they are magnificent” she defends reaching to give them a gentle squeeze making you moan lightly. “God I love you, thank you for carrying our child and making us moms”
“I’d do it twenty times if it made you happy” you smile. “Okay maybe not twenty but you know what I mean”
“I know baby” she laughs. “You wanna head home now? Show me that onesie you bought?”
“That sounds perfect” you hop off her lap and intertwine your hand with hers as she stands. “You know I’m a little sore, I could do with a bubble bath with my wife”
“I think that can be arranged” she smiles leaning in to captures your lips.
—--------------------------------------------
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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 days
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Love strategy p.6
Hi guyss, here's the new part and part 5 if you've missed it. Let me know what you think about Lando's secret, revealed in this part.
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You had thought—hoped, really—that it would take a few days for the rumors to spread. After all, the video from yesterday still needed to be edited and published. Surely, you had some time before the media circus descended on you and Lando. But by the time Friday rolled around and you walked into the paddock with your colleagues, you were proven very, very wrong.
The moment you stepped foot inside, the air seemed to shift. Journalists’ heads turned, their eyes locking onto you like you were fresh prey. You barely had a second to register the shift in energy before you were surrounded. A sea of reporters, cameras flashing, and questions being hurled in your direction from all sides.
"Is it true about you and Lando?" "How long have you been seeing each other?" "Was it love at first sight?" "Is this a paddock romance?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to navigate the sudden onslaught, feeling trapped by the sheer number of people crowding you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. Panic surged through you as the cameras pressed closer, the barrage of voices overwhelming.
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Hey! Back off!"
Carlos.
Before you knew it, he was by your side, his tall frame creating a protective barrier between you and the journalists. His presence was like a lifeline, grounding you as he expertly guided you through the crowd, waving off the reporters with a sharp glare.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Carlos muttered under his breath, keeping a firm hand on your shoulder as he steered you toward a quieter area behind the paddock.
Once you were finally out of the media's reach, Carlos turned to face you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?”
You exhaled shakily, still trying to process what had just happened. “I didn’t expect this to blow up so fast,” you admitted, your voice small and slightly breathless. “I thought we had more time.”
Carlos’s eyes softened further as he nodded, his usual calm confidence still present but tinged with concern. “Yeah, well, things in this world don’t stay quiet for long,” he said, offering a small smile. “But if you need anything, or if it gets too much, you can always count on me. I’ve got your back.”
You looked up at him, grateful for his protectiveness. There was something so reassuring about Carlos in moments like these—the way he didn’t make you feel weak for being overwhelmed, but rather like he understood the pressure and was ready to shield you from it when needed.
“Thanks, Carlos,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I really appreciate it.”
He shrugged, a faint grin tugging at his lips, though his eyes remained serious. “You don’t need to thank me. Just… don’t be afraid to ask for help, alright? I know Lando’s involved now, but this place—it can be intense. You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone.”
His protectiveness was palpable, a comforting presence in the whirlwind of everything that had happened. You nodded, feeling the weight of his support.
“I won’t,” you promised.
As you walk back to your team’s section of the paddock, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Carlos’s protectiveness, the way he stepped in and shielded you from the press—it had caught you off guard in the best way. You weren’t used to him being so attentive, so present. It felt… nice. Almost like the plan was working.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you pull out your phone and quickly type a message to Lando.
You: So, guess what? You: I think the plan’s working—Carlos totally noticed me more today.
A moment later, Lando’s reply comes in, and you can practically picture his smirk on the other side of the screen.
Lando: Oh yeah? Told you it would work. Carlos can’t help but pay attention now. Lando: How was he?
You: He was great, actually. He helped me get away from the press—really protective. It felt like he actually cared.
You pause, biting your lip as you type the next part.
You: What about your mysterious girl? Has she reacted to the news about us?
For a few moments, Lando doesn’t reply. You wonder if maybe you’ve hit a sore spot, given that this whole fake relationship plan was also meant to get his crush to notice him. You know how much he cares about her, how he’s been pining for her, waiting for her to finally see him the way he sees her.
When his response finally comes through, it’s a bit more subdued.
Lando: Yeah, she’s noticed. Lando: Since we started this, she’s been paying more attention to me. But… she still doesn’t see me like that.
You frown at the screen, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. Lando’s always been so easygoing and lighthearted, but you know how much this mysterious girl means to him, even though he’s never revealed who she is.
You: I’m sorry, Lando. That sucks. You: But maybe she just needs more time? I mean, this whole thing with us is still new, right? Maybe she’ll come around.
You mean every word, wanting to comfort him, to give him hope. He’s been nothing but supportive through this whole fake relationship ordeal, and the last thing you want is for him to feel disheartened.
What you don’t know, what Lando hasn’t told you, is that the girl he’s talking about—the one he’s been trying to get to notice him—is you.
From the beginning, this plan wasn’t just about helping you with Carlos or boosting his public image. It was about spending more time with you, being close to you, and seeing if, maybe, just maybe, you’d start to see him as more than just your partner in this scheme. But for now, Lando keeps that secret to himself, his heart heavy with the irony of his situation.
His next message comes through, lightening the mood once again.
Lando: Yeah, maybe. Who knows? At least we’re both getting what we want out of this, right? You: Right. Partners in crime! Lando: Always ;)
You smile at his response, completely unaware of the deeper feelings hidden behind his words. To you, this is all just part of the plan. But to Lando, it’s something so much more.
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i-starcreamed · 1 day
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Hi I heard you make transformers one oneshot umm I hope you won't mind, this actually a D-16 oneshot " what if his s/o get shoted instead of Orion" or " D - 16 meeting s/o for the first time"
D-16 / MEGATRON X READER
I combined both requests :3
cybertronian!reader SPOILERS FOR TF ONE Puree angst, character death, sadness :(
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You were also a miner, like Orion and D-16. You met in a similar way they did.
You grunted, your limbs aching from pushing around the minecart around all day. It was filled with raw energon rock at this point, so it was a lot heavier. Last night, you hadn’t recharged well, and now you felt like you were running on your last drop of consciousness... Your optics widened when you unexpectedly bumped into something in front of you, sending your minecart toppling over and spilling its contents.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—“ You hissed, watching all the progress of the day come crashing down onto the floor. You pursed your mouth in frustration; this really sucked.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me help you out, here.” A calm voice came from in front of you, prompting you to avert your optics toward the bot you had bumped into. You paused--hmmm, he was a handsome bot. You eyed his armor for a moment before realizing you were staring.
“Sorry! Uh, I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, kneeling down to pick up your rocks, him beside you. He let out a small spurt of a gruff chuckle.
“No worries. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here. I’m D-16.” He introduced himself, you still remember the way he smiled at you. You nervously smiled back
“I’m Y/N. I was actually uh...promoted just recently. I’ve never mined energon before. It’s harder than I thought.”
“Oh, well, it gets easier. You get better at it too.” He said, tossing the last bit of rock back into your cart and helping you turn it upright.
“So where were you headed off to?” He asked, walking beside you now.
You took a deep breath. “To the trains? I was told to report to Elita-1 afterward.”
“Psh, really? That’s a coincidence, so am I.” He said lightly, grinning at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle.
It started as a friendship—you, Orion and D-16. You were a little trio. Despite this, Orion always noticed the particular… attention you paid specifically to D. When the three of you joked around, you would always look toward him to watch his reaction—or rather, his smile. You became bashful when he helped you with something, he, in turn, softened up around you. It didn’t take long for Orion to see right through you—meanwhile, D remained completely oblivious!! History says you were just friends
Eventually, you two started dating! You made a sweet couple, with Orion constantly third-wheeling. You can imagine everything you went through after kind of illegally participating in the race, getting thrown to Level 50 as a punishment, and uncovering the location of the Primes.
You watched as your lover changed, and it pained you. You saw his anger slowly shift and shift, first towards his best friend, then at everyone else. You watched as he became feverishly focused on killing Sentinel.
“D, don’t!”
Your yell went silent as you ran in front of sentinel, the blast from D’s cannon hitting you instead of him. The impact blasted through your chest, ripping through armor, your casing, and your wiring—until it struck your spark. This was the turning point when D-16 became.. Megatron. His optics widened, he stopped seeing red for a split second.
He watch as your body fell, the whole world seemed to come to a halt.
“Y/N!” He yelled and dived after your body, momentarily forgetting about his anger. Before you could fall into the depths of Iacon, he caught your arm. He didn’t waste a second as he desperately tried to pull you up. You had no strength left to help yourself--your body hung limp.
“Why! Why did you do that!?” He yelled at you, his voice shaking. As you slipped between consciousness, you realized you’d never heard your lover so emotional. Not like this.
“You can’t go, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—“
“D…”
Your arm started slipping from his digits. “I’m so sorry…you have to.. stop this. Please,” you whispered out, the light in your optics flickering.
Megatron stared at you, partly in disbelief at you and himself. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, I-I promise,” He hissed, his servo desperately holding on. You knew you didn’t have much time left.
“D, please don’t this. I love you. I always will. No matter what I’ll always remember you as my D-16.” You whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, roaring in anguish as your body slipped from his grip. He watched as you descended into the depths of your planet. You were going to become a part of Cybertron again, just as they all started out as. He’s so sorry.
He’s sorry he’s not the D-16 you knew.
Despite this loss, he still became Megatron. Afterall, he had nothing to lose now.
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samandcolbyownme · 1 day
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POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)
I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤
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DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth
Word Count: 1.3k | unedited
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“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”
Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.
“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.
You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”
He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“
The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“
You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”
Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”
Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“
“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”
“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.
Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”
You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.
You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.
“Need some help?”
Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”
“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”
You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”
He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“
“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”
Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”
He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“
“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.
“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”
He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.
His lips are on yours.
Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.
His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.
“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.
“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”
He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.
You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.
“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.
“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”
You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.
“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”
You swallow, “You can be my better.”
“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”
You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”
Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”
“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.
“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”
You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”
Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.
You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”
Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“
“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“
“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”
He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”
You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”
“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”
Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”
You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”
Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”
He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”
You laugh, “Colby.”
“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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blackmoonoracle · 22 hours
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BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...
PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS
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P I L E O N E
Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:
“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”
There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.
Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.
The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.
I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.
I literally heard “reactive abuse”.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.
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P I L E T W O
You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.
I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.
I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.
This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.
Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.
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P I L E T H R E E
I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.
I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram
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mossyeyeballs · 2 days
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TW: mentions of pretty much everything terrible. 🍇, trafficking, all of the above.
CLASS OF 09 RANT, FLIP SIDE SPOILERS
Ok not my usual post (I’ve posted twice ik but shush) but what the freak was the flip side??….. I was a huge fan of class of 09 + the re up but this game was so.. what’s the word….. dog shit? Even if we ignore half of the game being about the creators weird foot fetish, the sl@ve ending was so unnecessary. I feel like the only thing in that route that was worth writing was the issue in retail work and that wasn’t even the star focus, let alone side focus. The main plot of that route was the counselor having some weird illegal 🌽 warehouse, jecka finding it, and then him blackmailing her into human 🚙 🚙 ing?
The only ending I thought was necessary IF THAT was when Jecka found Nicole after the sue a side ending from re up. I thought it did a decent job at talking about sue a side victims, and how nobody really cares about them until it’s too late, And even then they only care for a week or so and then move on.
But the Jeffery dying one was the most out of place in my opinion (unfortunately it beats the foot ending.) For starters, Nicole was really out of character imo, like yeah she’s talked about wishing Jeffery was dead before, but her actually killing him just out of boredom is so odd. Her entire character is “I don’t put effort into anything unless it benefits me.” Killing Jeffrey was not only ALOT of effort, but she gained absolutely nothing. On top of that, saying it’s different than doing. Like how she talked about wishing her mom was dead, but then when she had a heart attack, she panicked. Plus, she PLANNED on making Jecka take some of the blame on his death, which she stated in past games she wouldn’t do. She literally never put Jecka in harms way, let alone jail if it didn’t also benefit them both. But this didn’t, she just did it to do it.
While we’re talking about Nicole being out of character, I feel it valid to mention her and Jeckas dad. For obvious (and gross) reasons, I won’t be detailing this, but her doing that to Jecka wasn’t fully out of character, but still odd. Like I mentioned earlier, Nicole never really did anything to spite Nicole, so I find it odd that she did in this game. You could blame it on “oh she’s a sociopath she doesn’t care.” But I don’t think that’s inherently true. Yeah, I guess it’s canon she’s a sociopath, but in that case they do a bad job at consistency. She’s shown in both games 1 and 2 caring about people she’s close with, whether it’s Jecka, her mom, or even Emily in one segment. So I find it completely random that she did this to Jecka over something as small as not sharing how she got into foot work. Jeckas done much worse stuff to Nicole, and Nicole just didn’t care because they were friends, or didn’t feel the need to put effort into doing something if she did care. So yeah, Nicole basically screwing Jeckas dad over something so little felt out of character.
One of the few things that bothered me the least, but I feel the need to mention was the foot work stuff. Not because it was out of character, i fear I’ve seen worse stuff mentioned in that game. But I guess the way it was portrayed as less of a story plot and more of the creator trying to live out his fantasies. He himself has stated Jeffrey is basically a self insert, so the whole being sexually obsessed with Jecka and her feet felt REALLY weird. Compared to Nicole’s my space favor thing, this just felt dirty. For comparison. Both Jecka and Nicole took up sex work to keep a home life or lackthereof, they both got money from strangers to do sexual things, and they both hated doing it. But why did Jeckas feel so much more personal and gross? Because the actual sex work was shown. In graphic detail. And all of Jeffrey’s (the creators) personal thoughts were stated with no backlash. Jeffery literally asked Jecka if she would 🍒feed him, and he was excused. When Nicole was asked the same hing from the same guy, he was insulted, yelled at, even told to leave.
So, creepy creator who’s obsessed with his barely legal characters, Jecka being sold to 🚙 🚙ing agaisnt her will, Jeffrey being murdered for no reason other than a giggle or two from his haters, Jecka accidentally killing Ari cause she was drunk driving, feet fan service, and fan service in general aside, the game is left only with the regular drug and alcohol abusage we always see. which in the game that was advertised as a new experience felt really stale and honestly left me bored. The ONE SINGULAR time during this game that I giggled was when the hat man appeared in the Ari route.
If you’ve fully ignored everything I said in this, maybe didn’t care, or didn’t even read it. Id just like to mention for everyone that the creator of this game said that anybody who disliked him, his games, his writing, or his humor were kid diddlers. In full seriousness. So yeah, no shock this game was bad, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected better from someone who thinks his haters are all child likers. All this being said, I enjoyed class of 09, and the re up. I’m hoping the anime episode that comes out soon with be a decent save. all of THAT being said, I don’t support this creator. I don’t support his actions, I think he’s a shitty person who’s made some shitty jokes, but made some not so shitty games that I decently enjoyed. I also haven’t bought them, so none of my money has gone towards him or his projects. I in NO WAY support him. Thanks for reading.
Feel free to comment down some of your own opinions if you feel so inclined, I’m interested in what everyone else thought of this game :))
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signanothername · 2 days
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Do you think that your take on nightmare could become a better person without becoming at least fully uncorrupted?
I like your take on uncorrupted nm but I was curious to ask because there’s not really much of Nightmare becoming a better person *whilst* still being corrupted?
Asking the real questions here >:)
Before I start this ramble however, I think it’s important to keep in mind that even while uncorrupted, Nightmare’s still a bitch, cause as I mentioned before, Nightmare wouldn’t suddenly get back to becoming a kind angel with a big heart, and it’s also important to keep in mind that if uncorrupted Nightmare got back to being powerful (even without the corruption in the mix) he’s extremely prone to (and would probably) get back to his old ways
Cause while the corruption has a great impact on Nightmare’s behavior and how he deals with his emotions, the corruption is less of the root cause and more of a participant in Nightmare’s awful behavior
The root cause of Nightmare’s awful behavior is extreme fear born out of trauma
The corruption already did its job a long time ago and shaped Nightmare as a person, it’s still Nightmare himself that’s in full control of his actions, he could at any point in time, make the right or wrong decision
With that in mind, could Nightmare be a better person whilst corrupted?
I’d say it’s kinda complicated, it’s both yes and no at the same time
Could he become a better person whilst corrupted?
Yes
Would he overall become a better person with better behavior? And with everyone?
No, unless there’s an actual driving force to motivate Nightmare to be a better person somewhat (which is absolutely possible ;) ), Nightmare would continue to be a bitch
Could he still get better at treating specific people that he deems worth his time? And only deems worth his time after specific interactions that made him believe so?
Yes
Corrupted or not, Nightmare isn’t incapable of becoming a better person, however there needs to be a reason for Nightmare to be so
Nightmare is a very “treat people how they treat you” kinda person, and while Nightmare is extremely toxic, abusive, and cruel, he’s also someone who stays true to his word and would treat who treats him with kindness the same, and Nightmare doesn’t easily believe in genuine kindness without a goal behind it, and so he’d insist on giving something back instead of accepting kindness for what it is
So if someone shows him genuine kindness, he’d also show genuine kindness (in his own twisted way) in “this is me paying my debt back” way, like, he’d “pay it back” by keeping the AU of the person who showed him kindness under his protection for a period of time, or let go of a debt they owe him, etc
I’ve mentioned before that Nightmare is capable of kindness, and I don’t mean in “paying someone’s kindness back” kinda way, but he can actually be kind in an active way where he thinks of doing something kind to someone else without it being a payback of sorts, and so Nightmare can still make a good decision and actually show it without any strings attached, and the truth is he does show it, very rarely, but he does (in the “a little life update” comic, Killer mentions how Nightmare managed to do one “good thing” at least ;) )
Nightmare just has a mindset that’s like “nobody was ever kind to me when i was the one who’s helpless/ defenseless, so why should I ever show anyone kindness now that I’m in power?” It’s an irrational mindset, but the thing is, no one can debate him on it considering it’s something he keeps to himself
For the outside world, Nightmare does what he does cause he’s a bitch and that’s it, not taking into consideration the fact he acts the way he does as a result of a harmful mindset he developed due to a life changing traumatic experience (obviously cause they don’t know)
And while his kindness is still pretty much apart of him, whenever he has certain thoughts of doing something good/ kind for someone, he just immediately stomps on it and tells himself that he’s being “irrational”, and yes, Nightmare thinks that being kind in a cruel world is “irrational”, he’s the opposite to Dream, who thinks that being kind in a cruel world is what true strength is
And y’know I kinda always talk about how much of a bitch Nightmare can be, but I never talk about the fact that, despite how bitchy he is, Nightmare can actually be sensible
In the right circumstances at the right times, Nightmare can actually be talked to without him being an absolute bitch
And that goes for almost everyone, MTT included
like Killer, Murder and Horror can actually talk to him without Nightmare immediately taking it as a chance to abuse them
But Nightmare is the kinda person that you need to tiptoe around sometimes, cause he has insane mood swings, so MTT have to check whether he’s in a good mood or a bad mood and based on that decide whether it’s a good idea to approach and talk to him or leave him alone and sometimes even go as far as make themselves as small and as unseen as possible as to not catch his attention
Building a good rapport with Nightmare is.. complicated, but possible
But the thing is, even if Nightmare became a better person, it’s better to keep your expectations a bit low, cause even if Nightmare took genuine steps towards becoming a better person i think his capacity for that is limited, like don’t expect him to become like Dream where he’d jump to saving someone in need, but he’d cut back on his abusive and toxic behavior
Basically, Nightmare would become a better person but in a passive rather than an active way where he’d stop hurting people himself, but would let other people do the hurting for him (and i mean in a natural way with how positivity and negativity works and not send someone to hurt another)
For example, let’s say the twins see an innocent someone get beaten in front of them, Dream would immediately jump in to save them, Nightmare wouldn’t, he’d watch with sadistic glee and it would even get a chuckle or two outta him as the poor soul is getting beaten all while he feeds on their misery and once he’d fed himself he’ll just leave (and that’s regardless whether he’s corrupted or not)
It’s cause Nightmare also has the mindset of “the strong devours the weak”, it’s the natural order of things to him, it’s not his fault that the world around him settles for the minimum is it? That’s why he’s obsessed with power and would do anything to obtain it, if Nightmare can ensure that he keeps that power by torturing innocent people then he’ll do it, all cause he’s paralyzed by the terror of the mere thought of becoming weak again
To Nightmare, weakness means a death sentence, and we all know how irrationally afraid Nightmare is of death
Despite his power, knowledge, and 500 year long experiences, Nightmare was and will always be a fearful child who claws at the world around him first so it wouldn’t have the courage to claw back at him (completely dismissing the fact that the world would claw back regardless >:) )
For Nightmare to become a better person he needs to face his greatest enemy, and that enemy was always his own self
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ok since we’re discussing harry’s appearance and you’ve already clarified what you think he looks like from the neck down, now i’m wondering about his face. obviously, the books provide quite a generous description of him — green eyes, black, messy hair, etc — but i’m more curious about whether you envision him as having delicate features? is his face longer and more masculine or a bit more rounded and doll-like? would he be described as being attractive? handsome? beautiful?
since he’s a carbon copy of james, i’d assume that he genuinely is an attractive boy/man, but since we, as readers, see things so much more from his obviously subjective perspective, we also can’t get a very good feel of these things because harry himself isn’t interested in them. and, well, he is quite oblivious to other’s attentions in general.
i’m just curious what your perception of him is from canon, since i’ve seen so so many variations of his character in fanfictions.
Hi 👋,
(Anon is referring to this post regarding Harry's height and physique)
So, we actually have a ton of little details about Harry's facial features in the books. And, contrary to what many characters say, he isn't really a carbon copy of James, especially if he removes his glasses because some of his prominent facial features are described to be Lily's.
Harry is a kid who has his father’s hair, height, and glasses, so when people look at him from afar he looks like his dad. But if you look at him closely, or he removes his glasses, their faces share similarities, sure, but they are nowhere near as similar as you thought they were a moment ago when he had his glasses on. Like, that's how I see it, and the books support this:
It was as though he was looking at himself but with deliberate mistakes.
(OotP)
Harry is one of these kids who's a pretty equal mix of both their parents in his face. So, if he stood next to James, anyone looking would say they look really similar. If he stood next to Lily, they'd say he looked really similar to her (especially without his glasses).
Harry is mentioned to have his mother’s eyes, not just in color, but also in shape:
it was one of the girls from the lake edge. She had thick, dark red hair that fell to her shoulders and startlingly green almond-shaped eyes — Harry’s eyes.
(OotP)
So, Harry has green almond-shaped eyes like Lily. Almond-shaped eyes look something like this, apparently:
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We also have details regarding Harry's nose. Since his nose is more similar to Lily's than James', at least, I think so:
his [James] nose was slightly longer than Harry’s
(OotP)
I imagine Harry to have a more button-shaped nose since it's what I imagine for Lily (James has a straighter nose in my mind). I don't have any quotes for the nose shape though, so it's just my headcanon.
What is canon is that Harry's nose is smaller than James' and Ron's.
As for other features of his face:
but they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows. James’s hair stuck up at the back exactly as Harry’s did, his hands could have been Harry’s
(OotP)
And Harry is consistently described with a thin face:
Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes
(PS)
So, from these two quotes, we can compose the rest of Harry's face shape (sorta). So Harry has a thin face, thin faces usually look more elongated. I assume his jaw is sharper than Lily's since he takes after James there.
We know his mouth and eyebrows are shaped like James', but I couldn't locate other quotes that were more specific, I take it to state his lips are on the thinner side, and his eyebrows are more masculine in shape since it's what I assume about James' appearance.
Now, I know some of the fandom headcanons Harry as not white, but I personally don't think it's the case in the books. JKR mentions very clearly when a character isn't white, with the expectation that any character that isn't given an ethnicity would be assumed white. It's how she writes, and you can say what you will about that, but it's not what I'm talking about. Additionally, contrary to popular belief, Harry's skin color is mentioned in the books to be white and pale (so is Hermione's actually).
I found a few quotes that outright mention Harry being pale, and therefore, white (this isn't an exhaustive list):
“Harry, dear, are you sure you’re all right?” said Mrs. Weasley in a worried voice, as they walked around the unkempt patch of grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place. “You look ever so pale... Are you sure you slept this morning? You go upstairs to bed right now, and you can have a couple of hours’ sleep before dinner, all right?”
(OotP)
“Are — are you sure you’re okay, Harry? You’re still very pale...”
(OotP)
Their eyes met over the basin, each pale face lit with that strange, green light. Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along — so that he could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain? “You remember,” said Dumbledore, “the condition on which I brought you with me?”
(HBP)
Both Harry and Dumbledore are mentioned to be pale-skinned.
The word "pale" is used by JKR to describe skin quite often, and even when someone is "pale" when they are scared or stressed, it's because their skin is pale. I haven't seen her use the word for any of the dark-skinned characters (Like Dean Thomas, who was shown to be scared on occasion, but never described as "pale"). Besides being described as "pale", Harry's face is described as white on occasion as well:
Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, “Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!”
(PS)
Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking
(PS)
And considering Tom, who is repeatedly described as very pale and white, says:
We even look something alike ...
(CoS)
It's clear Harry looks very English, and therefore, very white. I'd go further and say he's likely quite pale considering how often he is mentioned to be pale + his resemblance to Tom. You can obviously headcanon whatever you want, I'm not stopping you, I'm just saying what the canon is.
I'd note that in general, Harry is pretty handsome and good-looking. In books 5 and 6, he's mentioned to be of interest to many girls, among them the good-looking and popular ones (even if he doesn't realize they are good-looking). Being the Boy Who Lived, rich, and famous gets some of this attention too, yes, but Hermione tells him the fact he is hot helps. Which it does:
“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.” [...] “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.
(HBP)
I know she just mentions he's tall (Ron is there, after all), but the implication is that he's hot and has no idea.
Besides, both James and Lily are described as good-looking by various characters, JKR said of James: "James was reasonably good looking, though not as good looking as Sirius" and considering Sirius is one of the most attractive characters in the series, this is one hell of a compliment. As Harry is a decent mix of both their features, he is likely good-looking. He probably looks pretty cute as a tiny, scrawny kid with bright eyes, and he grows to be more handsome and attractive as he grows. Like, I don't think that many girls would be interested in him in 6th year if he wasn't also handsome, so Hermione is right. Harry isn't as smoking hot as Sirius or Tom Riddle, but he is still very good-looking.
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razrbladekiss · 3 days
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TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller
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SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.
PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)
WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.
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Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.
Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“
“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”
He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.
“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“
“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”
“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“
“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”
“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“
I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.
BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.
“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“
“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.
Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.
“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”
He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.
But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.
Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.
He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”
Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.
Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.
Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.
But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.
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Crash Course
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
word count: 822
pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader
summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings
______________________________________________________________
The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.
But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.
A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.
As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.
“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.
Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.
“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.
Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”
Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”
“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.
Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”
“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”
Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?
Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”
“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”
Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”
Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.
Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”
Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.
“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.
Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”
Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.
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Hello!
I have a question- is it normal for pokemon that resemble objects to make connections with actual objects? For example, my Chandelure follows the roomba around like it’s another pokemon, and my Klinklang beeps whenever the microwave does. It’s kinda sweet, and I’ve been wondering if other object pokemon do something like that too.
i don't think this is really an "objectmon" thing so much as it's a result of the natural curiosity pokemon often have. cognitively, it's unlikely that either of those pokemon would look at a random object and recognize it as being "like them," because that's such a complicated thought process that requires them to first recognize themselves as being objectlike. as humans, we're great at coming up with abstract categories to group things in! but most pokemon aren't. this sounds like your pokemon are reacting to novel experiences in their environment.
what we do know is certain pokemon that resemble nonliving objects will sometimes be particularly curious about those specific objects- klinklang is a good example of this, since it actually has to find an extra gear in order to evolve- but their interest generally fades once they notice it isn't another pokemon.
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Fons vitae caritas - Love is the fountain of life
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Summary : What if Ethan Landry survived the theater attack at the shrine ? You didn’t know he was one of the Ghostfaces and when you found him all bloody and whimpering on the floor, of course you helped him. Or in other words, you tend to the wounds of Ethan Landry, a killer but also the boy you always loved… and maybe it wasn’t an unrequited love after all. In all honesty, Ethan was enamored with you and never wanted you to be involved in all of this…
Pairing : Ethan Landry x Gn! Reader.
Word Count : 3.900 words.
Warnings : Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mention of blood, wounds and stitches.
Author’s Note : This was entirely written based on this lovely anon’s request. Tell me if I’ve missed anything and please don’t hesitate to give me feedback, it’s always greatly appreciated to know if I did good ! I also had a blast with this request (and writing for my lovely Ethan) so if you have requests for him, I’ll be excited to hear about your ideas.
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You had been separated from the group at the subway station. There were way too many people at this time in the subway and you had been stuck in the middle of people walking in and out of the subway. However, what disconcerted you was the fact that Ethan, your dearest « friend », if you could really call him that with how much the two of you were close, let go of your hand in the middle of running to the subway. Maybe it was just a coincidence, you thought, without really believing it. Ethan always held your hand when you were outside, always, and he never let go of you, especially when there were that many people around, and with a killer on the loose on top of that. Ethan knew that you could get a bit scared outdoors when he wasn’t there to hold your hand and reassure you that everything was okay. He always looked back to see exactly where you were to look after you, but strangely… this time, when Ethan let go of your hand, he didn’t even make an attempt to walk back to get you, as he continued walking straight ahead like nothing happened… and it definitely wasn’t like him to do something like that. 
Everyone was ahead of you as you made your best to catch up on them after you had finally reached your stop. Luckily you knew the city by heart and it was easy for you to quickly arrive at the theater, where everyone had planned to trap the Ghostface killer inside his own shrine. Unfortunately, because you got to the theater way after the others, it was hard for you to find them as you walked inside the giant building. At some time, you heard screams of pain, you believed it was Chad as you started to walk faster in order to help him but when you thought you had finally reached him, you got further separated from your friends as not one but two Ghostfaces cornered you in a small room during the attack.
The hooded killers laughed as they closed the door behind them before removing their masks. You gasped in shock as you realized with widened eyes that the Ghostfaces were Detective Wayne Bailey and his - actually alive - daughter, Quinn. You tried to run past them but that was just futile as they laughed even louder at you, mocking you as Wayne didn’t even bother to make useless moves, barely lifting his arm up to shoot you in the right shoulder as he ordered his daughter to finish you off. Quinn stabbed you in the stomach as you groaned in pain and coughed a bit of blood when she harshly removed the knife from you, making you almost instantly fall to the ground in a silent cry, your vision slowly becoming dark and blurry as they both thought they had you dead and closed the door behind them like nothing happened.
Honestly, you should have been dead with all the blood that you lost but it seemed that fate had been by your side this time. When you woke up from your loss of consciousness, you got up with excruciating pain in your right side and shoulder. When you clenched your hand over your wounds, you could feel the blood staining your clothes and decided to tear a part of your long skirt to make rudimentary bandages that you wrapped around your shoulder and waist in hope that it will stop the bleeding at least until you get home. When you started walking to find the exit where you came from, it almost seemed that everything was over with how silent the theater had become. Moving your body was making your head dizzy as you winced in pain but you kept walking while avoiding the debris that were now obstructing some part of the silent shrine. Among them, two bodies particularly caught your attention… Quinn and her father were laying on the ground with fresh blood surrounding them… they had what they deserved, you thought without remorse as you quickly averted your gaze from them. After a few minutes, you finally found the exit that wasn’t too far away from you, making a smile appear on your face with the promise of safety that you could almost grasp. 
But when you were about to finally escape, you heard silent whimpers of pain coming from a corner. As you got closer, you could see Ethan laying on the ground on his stomach, almost covered in blood as a TV was crushing his right side : the edge of his face and a whole part of his shoulder. You gasped in shock and ran over to him, quickly removing the TV from him by pushing on it with your foot, gathering all the strength you could gather to rescue him. His safety being the only thing on your mind right now. 
Once you could finally see Ethan better, the state he was in was more than alarming : the right side of his face was all bruised, both of his shoulders seemed to have bigger opened wounds as blood was gushing out and he had small cuts all around his mouth as Ethan coughed up blood, making you panic even more as you carefully lifted Ethan in your arms, making his head rest on your lap as you gently caressed his hair. Your eyes watered when you had to imagine the pain he was in at the moment as your heart started to pound violently against your chest, anxiety controlling you as it was almost impossible for you to breathe.
You always had a soft spot for Ethan… or even more than that if you were honest with yourself and it broke your heart to see your poor Ethan that way. You tried ever so gently to caress the left side of his face in a way to reassure Ethan with your presence, miraculously making him stir awake little by little. Ethan only succeeded in fluttering his eyes open as his breath was ragged. When his eyes spotted your face looking down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks just to fall on his eyelashes, Ethan almost thought he was in heaven. He immediately wanted to talk to you but because he was stabbed in the mouth, Ethan struggled to talk and articulate his words at first but after a moment he managed to whisper your name in a silent weep. It was hard for him to even look at you, let alone breathe properly as his eyes watered at the sight of you all bloody in front of him. But what made his heart really flutter was the way you were looking at him, with such gentle eyes as you were holding his broken body in your arms.
Ethan didn’t want all of this to happen that way as his eyes briefly noticed that you were wounded somewhere, anger and frustration submerging him as he realized that his plan didn’t work the way he expected. 
Ethan had made sure you would not come here today. You couldn't be hurt in any way, he had repeated in his head a hundred times after his father had explained his plan to him a few days ago… the slaughter that will happen. 
You had to stay stuck in the subway, Ethan had planned on his own… and that’s exactly what he did earlier as he had let go of your hand on purpose, exactly when a lot of people gathered around, to be sure that you had no chance to go with them, even though it broke his heart to imagine how anxious this situation would be for you. But Ethan had to make sure you were the only one safe, far away from all this violence. Yet, fate had played with him and you apparently were still able to get here anyway…
When you noticed the way Ethan’s eyes started to get foggy with tears, you were half happy to see that his body and mind were reacting, meaning that he had a chance to live. However, you also tried your best to contain your sobs at his distress… even though you actually didn’t know the real reason behind it… Ethan couldn’t care less about his own injuries, his mind was plagued with one thing only… you.
Ethan needed to get his hands on his father and sister to make them pay for what they did to you. They didn’t have the right to touch you, let alone harm you in any shape or form whatsoever, he had been very clear with them, but he also painfully knew that he could never make any decisions in his father’s plan. 
When Ethan bit his bottom lip with a frown on his face, your hand drew more soothing circles on his unharmed cheek as you spoke to him with such a soft and gentle voice, smiling to Ethan to reassure him, though your voice betrayed your emotions.
« It’s a-alright Ethan… the Ghostfaces are all dead… all of them… you’re s-safe now… I promise, no one will ever h-hurt you again… I’m here, w-with y-you… »
When you remembered that Detective Bailey was Ghostface, you didn’t want to stay here any longer in case he had accomplices in the police when they would get here. Who knows ? Maybe they will finish the job he couldn’t and kill the both of you… you and Ethan are currently easy targets, you realize as your heart quickened in fear.
Hurriedly, you helped Ethan on his feet with difficulties as your own shoulder was starting to bleed again with the force you were applying on it. You maneuvered his left arm around your shoulder to support his weight. Ethan whimpered in pain as you helped him walk, due to the pressure applied on his stabbing wounds, even though he tried his hardest to stay strong for you. You blurt out excuses with an anxious voice as you quicken your pace to go back to your place. 
« We c-can’t stay here Ethan… I’m sorry but we’ll have to be quick. I’ll take care of you when we're safe. »
Some tears escaped Ethan’s eyes in silence with all the emotions he was going through. He couldn’t care less that his father died. After all, the man never cared for him nor even loved him as a son. He was just a tool for him. Nevertheless, Ethan could not deny the thrill he always felt when he acted as Ghostface, it was more than true and he accepted it without feeling even an ounce of remorse at those he had killed… but not you. Ethan couldn’t even envision hurting you… never. 
Ethan had tried at the last moment to avert the attention of his father and sister from you, almost begging them to kill someone else in your place… that you were the only one innocent in his eyes, but it didn’t work. Just like his plan to save you from any harm. And now you were the one helping him… a killer… He was right all along, Ethan thought with a smile, as the two of you were almost home… you were definitely an angel. 
When you were finally both safe, you let out a sigh of relief as you made Ethan sit down on the floor of your room with his head resting against the edge of your bed to keep his back straight. You ran over to your bathroom where you had everything you needed to take care of Ethan : disinfectant, needle, thread, bandages…etc. Luckily, you had some notions in medicine and had the right equipment for today’s case. When you come back into your room, you notice how Ethan struggles to keep his eyes open, his mind dizzy from the blood loss as he rests his head on the side of your bed. You hurriedly sit on his lap without fully putting your weight on his legs and set down all your medical tools on the bed beside you. You worriedly look at Ethan’s face as you gently yet firmly hold his cheeks in your palms, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheekbones as you call his name to make him regain consciousness.
« Hey, Hey, Ethan, look at me… Stay with me please… I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. » 
When Ethan’s eyes flutter open to look at you, a sigh of relief comes out of your mouth, smiling at him as your fingers now move in a softer way over his cheekbones, soothing his senses with your loving gestures. After a small tender moment between the two of you where Ethan looked up at you with puppy eyes while your hands were holding his face with so much love, one of his hand coming to cover your right one as Ethan leaned into your touch, you reluctantly removed your hand from him in order to begin taking care of him. When Ethan took note of that, his hand immediately stopped yours by softly grabbing your wrist as his gaze locked with yours. 
« No way you’re taking care of me first. », Ethan stated with difficulty. 
Ethan almost fought against the fact that you would heal him before yourself, your wounds were also gushing too much blood for his liking, as he explained to you with a worried gaze, yet you refused to let Ethan wait for your care. He would be the first one to be treated and that was your final word, you affirmed to him with a kiss on his forehead. 
Perhaps giving Ethan a kiss worked as a magic trick on him because it effectively hushed him, making Ethan’s cheeks turn slightly red at the gesture as he looked the other way and lightly bit the inside of his cheek nervously. 
Still straddling Ethan’s lap, you started taking care of him by firstly removing the black robe that Ethan was wearing, it was easy enough with how loose it had gotten. When you put the black material aside, letting your eyes linger on it for a bit, all the thoughts that you kept buried since you discovered Ethan at the theater came rushing back to you. You had to ignore these thoughts once again as you didn’t have time to think about such things nor didn’t you want to. Yes he was wearing this very particular costume but… Ethan couldn’t be… No he’s not, you convinced yourself even when you perfectly knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. But still, you trusted Ethan more than anyone else and knew that he would never hurt you, ever. And that’s all that mattered to you right now, when taking care of his wounds was the only thing your whole mind was focused on, him and only him. 
Afterwards, your hands came back on him as you held the hem of his shirt between your fingers, looking back at Ethan to silently ask for permission to also remove his shirt in order to give you better access to his wounds. Ethan shyly nodded before you slowly removed his shirt, being careful not to be too rough with your movements as to prevent aggravating his injuries. 
Your cold hands started to search for any patch of skin that seemed wounded and needed care as you let your fingers gently slide along his body, making Ethan slightly tremble under your touch as he felt way too exposed in front of you. After checking his body, your gaze saddened when you realized that Ethan had way more injuries than you would have thought, it was even surprising that he was still alive at this point or that he wasn’t complaining about the excruciating pain that he was without a doubt experiencing right now.
Ethan must have been hit on the back of the head as a bit of blood was making his hair stick there, you also noticed that he was stabbed in the mouth and that’s why it was hard for him to talk even though he managed, as small cuts could also be seen around his mouth. But the worst injuries were on his shoulders. Ethan was stabbed in the front left shoulder 5 times as blood was still gushing a bit out of the open wounds, while the TV that you saw earlier had crushed a part of his right shoulder and side of his face, where you could see lots of bruises and cuts covering his poor skin.
You sigh shakily when you feel the stress you’re putting on yourself at the amount of stitches you’re gonna have to do on Ethan, surely more stitches than you ever did in your entire life combined. When Ethan noticed the way your hands started shaking a bit, he instinctively intertwined his fingers with yours, knowing full well how it always appeased your mind. And he’s right, Ethan always is when it’s about you, as your racing mind slows down at the feeling of Ethan’s hand, helping you decide to only treat his most urgent wounds first as you make priorities in your mind.
You’ll disinfect all his wounds but clean even more the cuts around his mouth to prevent any infections, do stitches on all of his open wounds of his left and right shoulder but also on the deeper cuts Ethan got on the right side of his face that worries you a little, and cover his shoulders with bandages to help them heal faster. 
Ethan tried his best to be strong while you took care of him, he wanted to act tough in front of you, to make you feel proud of him that he wasn’t complaining, but he still couldn’t control everything as the little grunts and whimpers of pain Ethan let out were breaking your heart in little pieces. His jaw was tightly clenched as his eyes were filled with tears of pain that rolled over his face from time to time.
You were the only thing that was helping him get through this as Ethan noticed how gentle you were with him, while he tried his best to keep his eyes open in order to engrave all the little details in his memory. Like your face that was focusing on your task, a frown appearing on it when you were putting all your attention on a particular stitch. Or the way your hands controlled themselves from trembling even though it was hard for you at this moment, Ethan noticed with dreamy eyes. He also remarked the way your chest was heaving up and down at a fast pace, as Ethan’s hands were grabbing your thighs during the entire time. His fingers ever so gently danced across your skin as his thumbs occasionally rubbed over your thighs with soothing circles absentmindedly. His hands never left you as your position on his lap was making it easy for him to access your thighs, the comforting and loving caresses soothing you and Ethan at the same time.
When it was your turn to take care of your own wounds in front of Ethan, still in the same comfortable position, he was now the one to bring you the reassurance and love you desperately craved, in order to make this painful moment go by as quickly as he could. Ethan held your hand when he could and when it wasn’t possible with your movements, he gently let his hand rest on the unharmed side of your waist, drawing reassuring and affectionate caresses on your skin as Ethan looked at you with saddened but soft eyes, reminding you that he was here for you even though he couldn’t do much at the moment.
After you were both patched up, your hands naturally returned to cup Ethan’s face lovingly, caressing the bruised and stitched side of his skin softly as you covered his entire face in kisses. Ethan automatically did the exact same thing to you as his bigger hands went to cup your jaw protectively, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks tenderly as he made you bend down a little to press kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks and corner of your mouth. You were both bringing the other one the reassuring presence you needed from each other and the love that you both should have fully shared much earlier if you two weren’t the most bashful people on earth. 
Now fully sitting on Ethan’s lap as exhaustion took over you, Ethan caressed in a feather light touch your now stitched up wounds, a touch that you almost could not feel with how gentle and careful he was. Ethan looked at your injuries with anger, sadness and frustration that he wasn’t there to protect you and prevent them from happening.
Ethan quietly sobbed at that as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, careful not to touch your stitches as he hoarsely muttered excuses with a muffled and trembling voice, « I’m s-sorry… so s-sorry, baby… »
You didn’t understand why he would say that… well not completely. He didn’t have anything to do with your wounds and he would never hurt you in any shape or form. Seeing your sweet Ethan sob in your arms was shattering your soul as you just wanted to hold him closer to your heart, softly enough as to not aggravate his injuries. 
You both hugged each other during a moment that felt out of time, Ethan firmly clinging to your body, as you calmly caressed his hair while massaging his scalp soothingly. Ethan’s figure being much larger than you, it was like you were hiding in a cocoon where nothing could harm you anymore, as you felt at peace in his protective arms.
Ethan broke the hug at one point to look at you and got closer to your face as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips that you mirrored almost instantly. Ethan giggled between kisses as you were both eagerly pressing as many kisses as possible to the other’s mouth. 
With your mouth still lingering on his, you reassured him with a beautiful smile that Ethan cherished, as he peacefully listened to the words that you whispered against his lips.
« Together, everything will be okay… I know I’ll be safe with you Ethan. And… you’ll always have me, b-because… I care for you more than you could ever imagine. »
Ethan’s gaze widened with affection at your honest declaration as his eyes looked down at your lips, pressing his mouth to yours as he deepened the kiss by cupping your cheeks, not wanting to let you go too far from him. After breaking the kiss, Ethan bashfully intertwined his fingers with yours as he looked down to observe with attention the way he was fidgeting with your hand.
« Can I say that I love you ? », he asked while looking back into your eyes. Ethan felt awkward while saying that, it was the first time for him after all. Though, the pretty boy quickly changed his mind when he felt your lips whisper close to his ear how much you loved him back, making Ethan smile in the most adorable way possible. 
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💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗
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